#probably go out to dinner with roommate and another friend

[joostcafe]

an innocent favor / dbf! joel miller x fem! reader

summary: you promised your dad you’d keep his friend company.

content warnings: age gap ( reader is in her mid 20s and Joel is in his early 40s, mutual masturbation, penetration, no outbreak, multiple orgasms, long one shot.

— now playing! ♫ like a tattoo by sade —

It was a cold Autumn morning, with the kind of weather that made you wake up earlier than you should. The reason why you stood out on your porch, watching the leaves fall. Definitely not looking across to your neighbor’s house and watching the lights shine through a particular room. The shadow of your dad’s friend in the window.

The same man who came over for dinner every once in a while, gave you a ride when you needed it— the tall, handsome, brooding old man.

Joel Miller.

Your dad and him go way back. There’s hundred stories you’ve heard of him through your father, but it wasn’t until your first year of college when you officially met him; the day you moved across the street from him and his daughter Sarah.

The same day your dad made you bring them something homemade to make a good impression, and so you did. Cinnamon cookies to be exact, which earned you your first smile from Joel.

Now you were done with school. Back in your hometown, sitting outside your house contemplating giving him the pumpkin bread you made for him. The one sitting on your counter, with a note carefully placed on the top on the box, saying Happy Halloween.

You’d bake every dessert in the world if it meant seeing him smile.

You were nervous to see him, or perhaps you were nervous about being back home. It was a surprise, even to yourself. You didn’t know why you came back. No one expected you to return so soon. Especially since you had a job with a beautiful apartment and friends you called family. You had a different life in another city.

Your impulsiveness made you feel crazy and all you could do was think. You had been in town for two days and you hadn’t been out of the house. All you could fixate on was Joel. No matter where your thoughts went it would always come to him. You wondered how the years treated him, probably really fucking good. Would he be excited to know you were back home? Is he still single? It was all you could think about.

Although you couldn’t blame your stress baking on just that. It was the unforeseen day planned by your father. He told you to help Joel give candy away to the neighboring kids. You and him, in his house — alone together.

He said Sarah was gone for the night, at a party or something. And It was his second Halloween being alone, not doing anything. No pumpkins being carved, no candy, no costume. Your dad said it would be good for him to have company for once.

That meant a night with him talking to you with that southern drawl, probably about some movie — making your fucking head spin.

You let out a soft breath into the cold air, hugging your arms tight. Forcing yourself to stop looking and head back inside your house.

The smell of coffee made your body relax. You thank god you’re home alone today, usually the opportunity doesn’t come to you this early in the morning. Your roommate doesn’t appreciate cooking at 6 am.

So breakfast is loud today. The usual silence now filled with soft jazz and the sounds of your dad’s old coffee maker. You make something quick and stupidly festive: scrambled eggs, a cinnamon bagel with cream cheese and, a pumpkin cold brew.

The moment’s quaint, as you sit down and eat. Practically melting into the seat when the food hits your mouth.

About two minutes into your bliss you hear a small knock on your door. You swallow slow and get up to carefully check the window.

It’s Joel.

A curse slips from your mouth and suddenly you’re wiping your mouth clean and running a hand over your hair. He definitely saw you on the porch looking for him like a total weirdo. Now he’d come to tell you off or something.

Fuck, this was the first time you’d talk to him since you left.

When you open the door he quips his head up, a sharp smile lining his face. His hair is disheveled from sleep, he’s still in his pajamas, a gray shirt with plaid baggy sweatpants. If you weren’t so embarrassed you’d probably stare at him longer.

“Mornin’” he says and your knees threaten to buckle, his voice is deeper than you remember.

“Hey.” You blink, “Good morning.”

His eyes follow behind you with curiosity. “Smells good.”

“Just breakfast.” You say, standing awkwardly.

There’s a beat.

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. You stare at him waiting for a response. Realization creeps in your mind and you quickly wave him in.

“Sorry, come on in.”

He smiles again, walking inside your home. “Been awhile. How’s everything? How are you?”

You turn to him, straightening up, “I’m great, I’m good. Just been busy looking for jobs, you know.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just nods.

“How’s Sarah?”

“She’s fine—started college this year. Makes me feel fuckin’ old.” He grumbles.

You laugh softly, “Who says that’s not a good thing?”

“Me.” He says, walking forward.

You follow, stifling back a remark.

“Festive.” He points around and you cringe with a smile.

There’s decorations lining your living room: jack-o’-lantern’s, paper witches, mini ghosts. Your dad’s old stuff from when you were a kid. A welcome present to you.

“No, it’s nice.” He drawls, “Your dad’s idea?”

You nod, “It was his surprise for me.” You say, “He’s a little too excited i’m back home.”

“You got that right.” He sits down on a kitchen chair, “How long you stayin’?”

“Just a week or two for now, i’m not sure yet.” You reply watching him cross his arms. That was a lie.

“Not sure?” He asks and you nod.

There’s hesitation when you answer, “It’s a long story, I just don’t think I really can. With my current job and shit, you know.”

“Right.” For a moment you think he looks disappointed.

You walk around, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. Joel follows you with his eyes, you can feel it. And once you place it in front of him he takes a breath, speaking again, “Sorry for botherin’ you this early in the mornin’.”

You shake your head, “No, it’s fine.”

“I just saw you were up.” He pointed towards your porch, “Figured I come to talk to you about tonight.”

“Oh. Tonight.” You repeat.

He grunts as a response.

“Your dad offered, I told him you’d be better off having’ fun...” He says, “Somewhere else.”

You begin to say something but he cuts you off almost immediately.

“You don’t have to come over.”

You laugh, nervously, “I want to.”

He sighs, a low and steady sigh before asking, “You want to?”

“Yeah, It’ll be fun.” You say now with confidence, “We can watch movies, eat a shit load of candy.”

He shakes his head with a grin.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re uninviting me Joel Miller?” You say lowly, sarcasm eating at your words. “Thought you were a gentleman.”

“Jesus, I’m not uninviting you.” He groans, smiling up at you. “Just askin’ that’s all.”

“Good.” You reply.

You reach over and take a bite of your bagel, staring back at him. Then you get up and look at the pumpkin bread on the counter.

“Oh. I almost forgot.”

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat.

“I made you something.” You say, carefully sliding the container over to him. “It’s pumpkin. Didn’t know if you liked it. Just took a guess.”

And then he smiles, that same smile you remember from years ago.

He mumbles your name before picking up the note stuck to the side. Reading it out loud.

“You’re too nice for me.” He says.

God that sounds good coming from him.

“Just being neighborly that’s all.” You reply.

He gets up with the container in his hands. “Your boyfriend— he must have a sweet tooth.”

You swallow hard; the question catching you off guard.

“don’t have one.”

He nods slowly, walking towards your door. “See you at five? My place.”

—

When your dad gets home from work it’s around three. Kids are already ringing your door demanding candy. You’ve showered, done your hair, cleaned up a bit.

He’s teasing you, trying to get you in a costume but you refuse. Especially since his options are three dusty ones from the attic. No way you’re showing up to Joel’s with a lady bug costume from when you were sixteen.

You’re not that bold.

If you were, you’d be laying in his bed the moment you got home. But you’re not, you’re his best friend’s daughter. Doing him a simple and innocent favor.

“No funny shit tonight.” Your dad says and it snaps you from your thoughts.

What.

You stare at him stupidly.

“Be nice to him. Talk to him. Don’t y’know—” He mimics texting with his hands.

“What am I fifteen?” You ask.

“No.” He replies, grabbing a pirate hat, one matching his costume. “But I’m serious…”

“I will be very nice.” You cross your arms. “You look ridiculous by the way.”

He spins a bit and you laugh.

“Alright, you look great. Go, you’ll be late.”

Your dad gives you a look of— I told you, and quickly grabs his keys.

“Have fun and be safe.” You say and his eyebrows furrow.

“You sound like my dad.” He points.

“Might as well be.”

He gives you a quick hug before he leaves. You know he won’t be home until midnight, or later.

You grab your phone from your pocket, checking the time. Three-thirty. Your palms begin to sweat. You could lie to yourself and pretend you don’t know why you’re nervous but you do know. A part of you wishes you were meeting Joel under different circumstances.

But you shake the idea out of your head, instead you go upstairs to change. There’s plenty of clothes already in your suitcase but you curiously move to your closet.

It’s the same from what you remember. Like a time capsule. Clothes you wore to parties from high school and dinners with your family. You smile a bit, nostalgia hitting you like a brick. You run a hand through the hangers— a light dust cloud painting the air.

You stop on a certain piece. It’s a summer dress. Your favorite one. Cream, relatively short with lace trimmings on the bust. Little purple flowers and green vines all over.

If it weren’t so cold you’d wear it. Probably with some boots. You wonder if Joel would like it.

Instead you pick out a cute denim skirt from a drawer. Some black stockings, black boots, and a flowy orange shirt.

You do your makeup, simple but effective. You put a clip in your hair and stare at yourself in the mirror. You try and sigh the pit in your stomach away. It doesn’t budge. It grows and your fate doesn’t change. You check your phone again, four-thirty. You’re early but maybe he needs help setting things up?

You hadn’t been in his house in awhile, It’s no different from the other times you suppose but this time it certain feels different.

So, you grab your bag and sprit as much perfume on yourself as you can before you choke. Do one last mirror check and walk downstairs.

There’s a bag full of candy on the counter, placed by your dad just in case you run out. You stuff it in your bag, shut off the lights and leave your house.

It’s cold— there’s kids yelling and running. You’re whispering fuck a million times under your breath as you make the walk up to his place.

You knock.

After a minute, the porch light comes on and he opens the door.

He’s there. He’s handsome, wearing a green plaid button up with jeans that almost make your eyes wander. His hair is kept and you can smell his cologne almost immediately. It mixes well with his usual scent of wood and whiskey.

“Hi.” You say sweetly.

“Hello there.”

His voice is velvety, deep and soft. He lets you in.

“Sorry i’m a bit early.” You say, watching him walk to the kitchen.

“Eager to see me?” He jokes.

Yes.

“Ha, funny.” You say, following him. He grabs a bowl, next to a big bag of candy.

“Jokin’ it’s fine.”

You study the room, it’s not messy but also not clean. A kind of rowdiness you expect from a man his age with a teenage daughter. A couple mugs in the sink with coffee residue, envelopes filling the dining table, looks like some bills and newspapers. There’s some bracelets and earrings spread out too, definitely Sarah’s… Hopefully Sarah’s

He grunts in embarrassment, “Sorry for the mess.”

You shake your head, “No I like it, it’s homey.”

“Homey.” He repeats. “You’re weird.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah.”

A muttered laugh escapes his lips. He dumps the bag in the orange bowl and looks up at you again.

“You look pretty by the way.” He says.

Fuck. FUCK.

“Thank you.”

You avoid making eye contact and turn towards the hallway. You take a few curious steps and look at the frames hung on the walls. Most of them are pictures of Sarah but one is of him and Tommy— his brother.

A low hum comes out from your mouth and you run a hand on the frame. You have to squint but, Joel looks younger, he smiling real big and you can tell the picture hasn’t been dusted in years.

You hear footsteps behind you. You don’t look away though. Instead you’re prepared to ask him a million questions.

He knows this. So he answers first.

“I think I was about twenty three, maybe twenty four.” He says, “It was right after Tommy graduated high school.”

They look so content, with an arm over each other’s shoulders and a young Sarah wrapped around her father’s leg.

You smile watching his face light up as he stares at the picture.

“You were happy.” You whisper, putting an unknowing emphasis on were.

He grunts a bit before putting a hand on his hip. His mind tries reaching for the right words. He looks over to you and gives you a small nudge with his shoulder.

“I’m not always grumpy you know.” He jokes.

You laugh, “You’re lucky you have proof.”

You walk down the hallway and into his living room, you look at it like it’s a memory, like it’s ripped straight out from your head. You look at the couch, one side is dipped down, almost melted into the shape of Joel. The table right in front of it is covered in rings of coffee stains and worn down from years of kicking his feet back onto it. The space is so him, it drives you crazy.

“You said movies.” He begins, “Problem is, dunno what you like.”

He points to a shelf on the wall and scratches his head nervously, “Sarah told me you’d like those.”

You wander over and look through the stack of scary movies. It’s got all the ones you and her watched when you would babysit: Halloween, The Ring, Scream. The list goes on.

“I hope you’ve seen at least one of these Joel.”

He shrugs, “There’s that killer guy in one of them right? And the girl comes out alive.”

You nod, “Basically yeah, that happens in most of them.”

He grunts, “See, my old ass knows.”

“Only because they’re all predictable.”

“Whatever.”

He walks to turn the dvd player on and watches as you run your fingers through each movie.

“What are you thinkin’?”

You look over to him as his back is rested on the wall.

“I’m debating whether Final Destination or Saw will give you nightmares.”

He playfully scoffs.

There’s a small pause before you make up your mind, “Fuck it, I’m picking Final Destination.”

You pop the disc out and put it in the player. You move to the couch with a sigh and sink right into it.

Joel lingers, with his eyes stuck on the screen as the previews begin to play.

“Quit being a dad, sit down.” You say.

“Can’t, gotta get the popcorn.”

“Okay well hurry up.”

You can hear him softly laugh as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

It such a domestic feeling, being with Joel like this. It’s so simple but, you like seeing him laugh at your stupid jokes. The coziness of his place, and how relaxed he looks.

He comes back a couple minutes later just as the disc menu comes on. He sets the bowl down with two beers next to it. He sits down and it’s in his usual spot, you can practically feel him relax his whole body.

It’s mostly quiet throughout the movie, occasionally Joel asks a question or two but the rest is silence. You’ve both gotten up to give out candy a couple times. By the end of the movie you’ve eaten all the popcorn and made your way through three beers.

Suddenly, Joel says something and it makes your body tense up.

“Do you like it over there?”

The question lingers in the air, it’s so sudden and his voice is quiet.

You pause, looking at him. “California? Yeah, It’s nice.”

He nods, trying his best to keep his eyes on the movie and not on you.

“Your dad said you’d be stayin’ for a while.” He confesses.

You wished the volume of the tv wasn’t so quiet. You could hear every part of his deep voice seeping through the silence.

“He told me you were movin’ back home.”

He knew you were lying earlier.

“Yeah, that’s what he wants.” You reply to him, your words coming out burdened. You didn’t want to talk about being homesick, or about your life away from Texas. You didn’t know why.

Finally, he turns to you.

“What do you want?” He asks, his words are gentle.

“I don’t know.” You answer slowly.

You want him. You can’t tell him that, but it’s the underlying reason why you’re begging yourself to stay. You miss home, you miss your dad and part of you can deny it but, you miss Joel.

It’s wrong but in the moment you wonder what his lips feel like. You find yourself staring and hope he doesn’t notice. But he does and suddenly you’re too close to him.

Your movements are aren’t calculated, just needy. You drink up his scent, it makes you want to sink into his chest. You don’t know what comes over you, maybe it’s the raw tension or the beers in your system but you do it. You kiss him.

His lips are surprisingly soft and you’re scared to move. You wish you could run your fingers through his curls or feel his rough hands on your face. You’re scared he’ll realize who he’s kissing, that you’re messing everything up. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead he pulls you in. You can feel his grip and it’s rough as he grabs at your waist and back.

You feel bold so you slip your tongue into his mouth and he groans, pulling you into his lap. You whine, feeling him. You can feel him growing and it makes you want to rip your clothes off.

He pulls away for what you think is air but the look in his eyes makes you hesitate.

“I— fuck.. sorry.” He pants.

He grabs your arms, pulling them away and he tries to get up.

You shake your head, “Don’t be.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You repeat.

A sigh comes out from his mouth and you can see him clench his jaw.

“I’ll stop if you tell me to.” You say, “Fuck. I swear, I will Joel.”

You’re desperate, you can’t even hide it. You grab his hand and place it on your chest.

“I can’t keep pretending.” You breathe out. “I can’t.”

His eyes furrow in confusion.

You bring his hand down, trailing it along your stomach.

“Tell me to stop.”

Joel lets out a pained grunt and lets his free hand grab onto your ass. Your next sentence catches in your throat and he whispers something under his breath.

He moves his hand onto your face and fixes a strand of your hair back in its place.

“You want this?” His accent is thick.

You nod. He does the opposite.

“Need you to say it baby.”

Your head spins, you can’t even remember your own name with the way he’s holding you. The way his voice drawls and calls to you.

“Yes.” You reply, “So fuckin’ bad.”

His eyes follow your every move, exploring how your mouth opens slightly when he traces his fingers down your neck.

He doesn’t say anything. He just waits.

He waits until you move his hand down into your unbuttoned skirt. And when his fingers touch you, you squirm. You’re far too wet than usual.

You moan into the air and your eyes threaten to shut. For a second you’re confused, and to be honest you’re angry. He’s still not moving.

“Joel.” You huff out, gripping onto his arm.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, “Move for me.”

You swallow, hard. But you obey. You buckle under him.

This time it’s him who moans. A soft but guttural noise that sends chills down your spine.

“So fuckin’ wet.” He groans. “So perfect.”

Joel looks drunk on you, watching as you grind desperately for his fingers. It’s intoxicating, you beg for some sort of indication that this is real. That it’s not just another dream, the ones you hide embarrassingly deep into your mind.

Except it’s real. You know it because it feels too good.

“Don’t hold back, S’ okay.” He says.

It’s almost too much, you can barely grip onto him anymore. You can’t control your body.

“Can’t— fuck. Need you.” You whine, incoherently. “Too good.”

He looks pained, your noises are piercing enough for him to speak up.

“Feels good?” He asks.

You nod, fighting the urge to beg him to fuck you.

“So sensitive,” His hand grabs your head, making you look at him. “Fuck, you’re dripping.”

“Never, usually— this wet.” You manage to reply.

You wonder if you should’ve kept that to yourself because his eyes turn dark. His fingers twitch and slip in you and you moan.

“Fuck— they, don’t feel like you.”

He grunts again.

“They don’t treat me right.”

Joel hums, he’s pissed. You’re not even trying to tease him, you’re just telling the truth. The guys you’ve slept with back in California couldn’t compare, and all you know is his fingers.

“What a fuckin’ shame.” He says, curving his fingers deep inside you.

He hasn’t even started to properly move and you’re already on the edge. You’re a little embarrassed because you know he can tell.

“How many times have you touched yourself, thinkin’ of me?”

Your cheeks flush. It’s a filthy question. You’re a little ashamed to answer, but there’s a pit of arousal deep in your core. You can’t lie to him, even if you tried.

“Don’t look at me like that baby.” He breathes out. “Answer me.”

His voice is deep— dark and sinful.

You stutter but nothing comes up and he starts thrusting his fingers into you without warning. You slur against him, not wanting to finish so soon.

“Too many fuckin’ times.” You finally mumble, “Waking up soaked thinkin’ of you. Couldn’t help it.”

He smiles, watching you unfurl. And he slips out of you. Your words don’t make sentences, just whines from confusion.

“Gonna take real good care of you.” He says. “Treat you right.”

Joel lifts you from his lap and onto his chest as he stands up. You tangle your legs around his waist, breathing hard.

He leads you into his room. You feel out of place, it makes you think of the times you’ve peeked inside from curiosity. Back when you would babysit Sarah. But that feeling disappears when he hovers over the bed to lay you down. When he starts kissing your neck and you realize he almost just made you cum.

The thought of him yearning for this just as you have, makes you shiver.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stop?” He says softly against your skin. “If this is too much..”

You shake your head too much if you’re honest.

He sighs almost smiling, “Words baby.”

“Don’t. Don’t stop.” You struggle, “I— fuck.. need you.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just does.

He starts by taking your shirt off, and he moves to slip your skirt down and out of the way. You grab his own shirt and begin to unbutton it as fast as you can.

“Too many buttons, shit.” You grunt and he laughs.

His body’s toned but not ripped. A real fucking dad bod. Your eyes dip down and stare a little too long.

Joel wastes no time, he kisses your stomach— every inch of exposed skin but stops at your underwear. It’s peaking underneath your stockings.

You hear his low groan beneath you, not before it’s interrupted by the sudden rip of the black fabric. You gasp, picking your head up. He ripped the entire thing off of you.

“Fuck it, I’ll buy you a new pair.”

You would be upset but you’re so turned on you don’t even care. You just grab his face, lead his lips to your underwear, trying to give him a sign.

He knows what to do. He grabs the lace with his teeth, pulling it slowly, down to your thighs. He spends a couple seconds running his hands throughout your body, kissing at the places he missed.

“Fuckin’ perfect.”

You fiddle with his jeans trying to get them off and you’re successful. He kicks them on the floor, along with his boxers. The hand that was once placed perfectly on your neck is now on his cock. You watch in bliss as he jerks off. He’s perfect. Moaning out like you own him.

His other hand grabs onto your bra, squeezing your boobs through it. You reach behind with your fingers to quickly clip it off.

It doesn’t even occur to you that you’re entirely naked in front of Joel miller.

“Gonna make you mine.” He slurs.

You don’t reply, you can’t. All that comes out of your mouth is a needy whine. Especially when you feel him position himself in your entrance. You need him to fuck you, you’re desperate for him to.

He pushes himself slightly deeper and you grab the first thing you can: his arm.

It takes him a couple seconds to adjust but he doesn’t dare move. He just stares into your eyes, waiting for you. You take a couple breathes before you nod. He starts agonizingly slow. You don’t know if he’s teasing you but it works nonetheless.

Joel’s heavy moans fill your ears, it doesn’t help the growing orgasm you left unattended. You feel his callused hands palm your breasts and it’s heaven.

“S’ fuckin’ good girl.” He mumbles. “Good girl.”

He looses his steady pace once you clench around him, he speeds up. He hits something deep inside you and you yell. A loud yelp resembling his name. He keeps going, unaware of how close you really are. You don’t complain. You can’t get enough.

His words are incoherent, just as yours are. They’re full of praise and hunger as he fucks you senseless. He fills you up just right, so right it makes you want to cry.

Cry from pain, yes— he’s fucking big. But also because you never thought Joel could ever want you, not as much as you wanted him.

“S’ so good.” You say, and you repeat it over and over again until the sentence falls apart in your throat. When he makes you cum.

The sound is dirty, a grunt you didn’t know you were capable of making. He grabs your waist, pushing his thumbs into them until you arch back, unable to hold on.

He doesn’t stop, instead he slows down again.

“That’s it.” He groans.

You don’t think you’ve ever came this fast, or at all even, before him.

There’s a pained feeling when he slips out of you, you almost claw onto him when he does. He grabs his dick again, pumping himself slow.

“You— you didn’t cum.” You tell him.

He shakes his head, “Not yet sweet girl.”

You don’t know what he’s planning because he’s suddenly on his knees, in between your legs, stroking himself. The same feeling from before is back and stronger.

“Want you to touch yourself.” He says, “Show me.”

Your chest moves rapidly and it’s hard to keep your legs apart. You don’t want your fingers, you want his. You do it anyways, he’s watching, that fills the void. You move a hand down and on yourself, rubbing small circles. You’re still throbbing from your last orgasm and it doesn’t take long before you start slurring your words again.

He guides you through your movements. Taking your hand when you accidentally speed up too much. The sounds of his hands— slick with your cum, doesn’t help.

“Keep your legs open.” He grunts and he fixes your legs apart with his free hand.

“You’re gonna cum for me again.”

You gasp and it almost sounds like a whine. You know he’s close by the way he grips onto your body with desperation. He’s fisting his cock with no other intention but to cum hard on you. To watch you come undone with him. He needs it.

You stick a couple fingers inside yourself and struggle to hit the spot he did. It doesn’t matter because he looks so hot it sends you over and you scream into the air.

His moans turns into a deep hum as he cums with you, all over your thighs.

He mumbles a lot of words you don’t hear, you’re too busy breathing into a pillow, your body’s weak and unable to move. You don’t notice his absence when he grabs a towel from the bathroom. He gently cleans you up and tucks you in perfectly with him.

It’s far too late, you’ve ignored his doorbell too many times. By the time Joel Miller finishes fucking you it’s not Halloween anymore.

“Never letting you go.” He whispers.

And you fall asleep in Joel’s bed, naked and next to him.

[observethewalrus]

the part of me that feels nothing at best and like a scared child at worst whenever I’m around my parents vs my lifelong fear of people being mad at me can’t decide if I’m happy or upset that my parents aren’t coming to have dinner with me for my birthday

[neptunsx]

YOU WERE MINE FIRST | L.HS

⤷ genre: nsfw.

⤷ synopsis : heeseung as your fuckboy roommate who got jealous and had to remind you who you belong to.

As you sit on the couch, burying your head in your book to drown out the moans emanating from Heeseung’s room once again, you can’t help but sigh. This has become a regular occurrence since moving in together.

You hear female giggles and whispers from his room. The moans and sounds of the creaking of his bed frame grow louder, and you roll your eyes, trying to focus on your book.

Hours pass, and finally, the noises die down. You stretch, having finally managed to lose yourself in your novel. Suddenly, Heeseung’s door slams open. He strides out, shirtless and disheveled, a scowl on his handsome face. Behind him is the girl he brought over, her cheeks hot red, her hair messy. He escorts her out of the house.

“I’ll wait for your text heeseungiee” she says while hugging him.

Heeseung just nods, you already know he won’t text her. She was another one of his toys and one time flings.

The next day, you’re in the kitchen making breakfast when Heeseung comes out of his room, looking as rough as he did the night before. He grabs a glass and fills it with water, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he turns away. You decide to break the silence,

“Heeseung, you need to keep it down at night. Some of us have to wake up early.”

“Yeah yeah.” he mutters before downing the rest of his water and leaving the kitchen.

Days go by, and Heeseung continues his nightly shenanigans. You try your best to ignore it, throwing yourself into your work and studies. One night, you get a message from your study mate, Jinho.

“Hey, wanna grab dinner with me tonight?”

“Sure, sounds nice” you text back with a smile on your face and a flutter in your stomach.

Jinho has always been a sweet and respectful guy. He made you laugh a lot too. This was a perfect moment, since you haven’t been out with anyone for a while. Who knows, maybe things would work out.

You come out of your room, in a beautiful dress and you text Jinho that you are on your way soon. Only then, Heeseung comes out of his room, wearing low-slung sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He pauses when he sees you dressed so well, your phone in hand and a smile on your face.

“Where are you going?” he growls, crossing his arms over his chest.

You look up, startled,

“Out with a friend” you answer vaguely, turning back to your phone.

Heeseung’s face darkens, and he stomps over to you, grabbing your phone out of your hand. He reads the message, his jaw clenched.

“Jinho, huh? Your little studying buddy?” he sneers, his voice low and jealous.You stand up, taken aback by his sudden aggression,

“Give me back my phone, Hee” you demand, trying to keep your voice steady.

He doesn’t move, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

“Are you going to fuck him too?”

His words hang in the air, a challenge and an accusation in his voice. You’re stunned into silence for a moment. Then anger flares in your chest.

“Thats none of your business” you snap and grab your phone back.

“Yeah right” he chuckles darkly, “Go ahead and sleep with him. He’s a good boy. He’ll treat you gentle like the innocent girl you are” he smirks mockingly.

His words sting, and you hug your phone to your chest, feeling a strange lump form in your throat. You swallow it down, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Exactly” you say firmly. “Unlike some people, he knows how to treat a woman with respect”

“He can probably go five minutes before he busts” he mutters under his breath, clenching his jaw.

“What?”

“Have fun with that loser”

Your date with Jinho went perfectly. He’s sweet, funny, respectful - everything Heeseung is not. He drops you off at home with a soft kiss on the lips. You smile all the way to your room, changing into your pajamas.As you climb into bed, your phone buzzes with a text from Jinho.

“I had a great time tonight. Can i see you again soon?”

You’re typing out a response when your door slams open, making you jump. Heeseung stands there, his eyes blazing with anger. He didnt even knock, he stormed in, his presence filling the room. He sees your phone in your hand,

“Missed your boyfriend already?”

“What do you want Heeseung?” you ask coldly “To criticize my love life some more?”

“I want to know if he made you cum” he says coldly, as he steps closer.

“What?! No! I- thats none of your business!”

“So he didnt touch you?”

“No, he’s a gentleman, he waited.” you wrap your blanket around you tighter.

“Why are you hiding yourself?” he asks softly, his hand reaches out, grabbing the blanket and tugging it off you.

You gasp as the blanket is pulled away, leaving you in your thin pajama top and shorts. Heeseung’s eyes darken as he takes in your form, his voice low and husky.

“I’d have you bent over that bed, panting and begging for more by now”

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. You try to maintain eye contact, but your gaze flickers down to his lips briefly before returning to his intense stare.

“You’re delusional” you whisper, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “He’s a better man than you"

Slowly, deliberately, Heeseung reaches out, his fingers brushing against your thigh. His fingers linger there for a moment before sliding upwards, pushing the hem of your shorts up slightly. His touch sends a jolt through you, and you can’t help but tense.

“Better man?”His fingers trace patterns on your thigh as he speaks, his face inches from yours.

“Better man who can't even make you this fucking nervous with just a touch?”

Your body responds to his words, your breasts tightening, your belly tensing. You nod. His fingers stop their movement, instead gripping your thigh.

“So, i guess he didnt touch you here…” he asks softly, his hand dangerously close to where you most crave his touch.

You shake your head, trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your thigh.

"No" you whisper. His eyes narrow slightly, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. Instead, he does something even more shocking. He slips his hand into your shorts.

You squirm as his fingers brush against your panties, feeling the heat and dampness there. Heeseung's eyes darken with satisfaction and something more primal.

"Not even here?" he asks, his voice a low growl as he gently rubs against your clit through the thin fabric.

You bite your lip to keep from making more noise as his fingers move against you. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your panties soaked. You try to press your legs together but his hand is in the way. He smirks, knowing the effect he's having on you.

"He didn't spread your thighs and bury his face between them?" Heeseung asks, his breath hot against your face as he watches you squirm. His fingers hook into your underwear, starting to pull it aside.

"He didn't lick you out until you were begging?” he says, his face leaning closer to where his hands are.

“H-heeseung stop”

“Do you really want me to?” he says, coming up and bringing his face close to yours. You look into his eyes, you feel your body begging for him. You can't take it anymore. You grab the back of his neck and smash your lips onto his.

Heeseung's eyes widen slightly in surprise at your sudden kiss, but he quickly responds, his lips pressing firmly against yours. He takes your shorts off in a swift motion and he pulls your panties aside.

Your kiss deepens as his fingers spread you open. He growls softly, feeling how wet you are. He adds one finger inside you, making you moan into his mouth. He swallows the sound, his tongue plunging into your mouth like his finger plunged inside you.

Heeseung kisses you fiercely as he adds another finger, pumping them slowly inside you. He angles his fingers to hit that spot deep within, making your back arch and your walls clench around him. Breaking the kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, biting lightly as he fingers you harder.

“Would he ever make you this wet?” He asks, his voice rough with desire and jealousy, his fingers curling inside you to hit that spot again and again.

"F-fuck no”

"Who's making your pussy tighten like this?”

You groan, not wanting to admit that he is the only one that ever got you this wet and needy. Simply because you couldn't admit it to yourself either.

“Answer me. Is it him?” His fingers pause inside you.

“No, i-it's you” you finally admit, grinding your hips to his fingers.

Heeseung hisses, as he removes his fingers from your hole, bringing them to his mouth to suck your juices off them. Then, he pulls down his sweatpants and frees his hard length.

He wraps your legs around his waist, pulling you closer as he positions himself at your entrance. He looks down at you, searching your face for any sign that it's not him you want like this. Then, he thrusts his hips forward, filling you completely in one harsh motion.

You cry out softly, your nails digging into his back. He's thick, stretching you wide open. He captures your mouth again, swallowing your moans as he pulls back his hips and thrusts deep again. He sets a hard pace, your bodies slapping together loudly.

He lifts you up slightly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he pounds into you relentlessly. You can feel every inch of his length sliding in and out of you, hitting that spot inside you with every thrust. His kisses are demanding, claiming your mouth as his own.

"God," Heeseung mutters against your jaw, "You're so tight." He lifts you up slightly again, changing the angle and hitting that spot so deeply that you almost scream.

"Who does this pussy belong to?" he growls, his voice low and possessive. He doesn't wait for an answer, thrusting deeper and faster, claiming you with every movement.

Tears fill your eyes as he hits that spot over and over, making you feel like you're gonna break apart. "You," you whimper, "It belongs to you, Heeseung.”

"Fuck..." Heeseung suddenly pulls out of you, flipping you onto your stomach. Before you can react, he enters you from behind, one hand gripping your hip while the other reaches around to rub your clit.

He leans over you, his teeth sinking into the back of your neck as he thrusts into you over and over, his hand moving in small circles on your clit.

“You are fucking mine” he groans to your ear.

The feeling overwhelms you, and soon you're screaming out his name, your body shaking with a powerful orgasm.

Panting harshly, Heeseung continues thrusting a few more times, chasing his own release. Feeling your tight inner walls clenching around him sends him over the edge. He buries himself deep inside you, groaning long and low as he comes undone, filling you with his hot seed.

He stays like that for a moment, his chest pressed against your back as he tries to catch his breath. Finally, he pulls out of you, turning you back over onto your back. He looks down at your face, his expression softening as he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You are crying already? I'm not fucking done with you”

© NEPTUNSX, 2025 / do not copy or repost.

[kysstar]

MY MUSE | SONG MINGI

pairing : : song mingi x fem!reader

synopsis : : you and mingi have been roommates for a long time. so, when you're having an art block, mingi comes to the rescue.

genre : : friends to lovers, roommates au

warnings : : reader and mingi being down bad for each other, slight nudity, suggestive ending

word count : : 2.6k

author's note : : mingi's calvin kleins photoshoot did smth to me

—You and Mingi had been living together long enough to skip the awkward stages.

You knew he liked producing music late into the night, headphones on, head bobbing while he tinkered with beats and samples. He knew you painted barefoot, usually in old shirts stained with colors, sometimes humming the score from your favorite movies. You’d swapped enough life stories, ranted about enough exes, and cried on each other’s shoulders more times than either of you could count.

You knew each other, not just in a surface-level way. The deep, quiet stuff too. Favorite comfort food when things sucked. The songs you played on repeat when you couldn’t sleep. Which movies hit too close to home.

Some days, you were each other’s therapist. Some days, you were each other’s distraction. It was a rhythm you both fell into.

And maybe that would’ve been fine—perfect even—if you hadn’t developed a stupid, slow-burn crush on him.

It wasn’t just because he was tall and ridiculously built, though that didn’t help. It was the way his voice went soft when he asked if you were okay. The way he remembered how you liked your coffee without asking. But yeah, it was also the way he walked around the apartment shirtless, jeans slung low, Calvin Kleins peeking out.

You tried not to look. You really did. But God, he made it hard.

Still, you respected the boundary. Roommates. Friends. That was the line. You weren't about to mess up something good by catching feelings he didn’t return.

Except—Mingi was a mess too.

He couldn’t figure out if you were messing with him on purpose or just painfully oblivious. Like that morning you walked into the kitchen in that cropped tank top that rode up every time you reached for a mug, exposing the soft line of your stomach. Or how you smelled after a shower, fresh and warm, the kind of scent that made him go still just to breathe you in.

You were so comfortable around him. That’s what killed him. He didn’t want to ruin it. If you ever found out how deep he was in it— how he stayed up at night wondering what it would be like to just touch you—he’d have to jump out the window and disappear into the sea.

—You were making ramen for dinner. Not because you wanted to, but because neither of you had the time or energy for anything else.

You stirred the noodles distractedly, half-listening to the water simmer, your thoughts still tangled up in the blank canvas mocking you from your studio. You’d been staring at it for hours. Not a single brushstroke felt right. Not a single idea stuck. It was like your brain had gone static.

Mingi wasn’t faring much better—buried in another one of his deep-dive music sessions, working on some new project with Hongjoong. You heard bits of muffled conversation from his studio all evening, bass lines bleeding through the door.

Dinner felt like the least you could do, even if it was just ramen.

You plated the bowls, grabbed two sets of chopsticks, and padded quietly toward his room. You knocked once, knowing it wouldn’t matter—the sound wouldn’t get through his headphones. So you let yourself in.

He was exactly where you’d left him three hours ago—back hunched, headphones on, one hand dragging along the MIDI controller, the other clicking through samples. His screen was a maze of layered tracks, chaotic but deliberate. He was talking to someone, voice low and focused. Hongjoong, probably.

You didn’t say anything—just walked in and set the ramen on the desk beside him. Mingi looked up mid-sentence and smiled at you.

“Thanks,” he murmured, voice just loud enough for you to hear.

God, that smile.

And then your eyes dropped—and you regretted it instantly.

He was wearing a denim jacket. Just the jacket. No shirt. Nothing underneath.

His skin, golden and smooth, peeked through the unbuttoned fabric, chest rising and falling as he talked. His collarbones, his stomach, all of it right there, unfairly sculpted and on display like some kind of reward for your suffering.

You looked away fast—too fast, probably—and turned to leave before your gaze betrayed you any further.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you leaned against it for a second, exhaling like you’d just escaped something dangerous. You shut your eyes.

Pull it together.

It was a recurring theme lately—you losing your cool over him while pretending nothing was going on. And maybe that would've been easier if he didn't walk around like he was actively trying to ruin your life.

With a groan, you peeled yourself off the door and headed back to your studio.

Calling it a mess would’ve been generous. Canvases stacked against the walls, some finished, some abandoned halfway, paint tubes uncapped, reference sketches strewn across the floor, half-dried palettes crusting over from days of neglect.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting there, stuck in the same blank stare, the same stiff position, the same spiral of frustration that had been building for hours. Your eyes were locked on the canvas like it might suddenly offer a solution if you just stared hard enough. It didn’t.

You barely noticed the door creak open behind you—not until you felt a sudden breath near your ear and a low voice that made your skin prickle.

“Stuck?”

You flinched, almost knocking your palette off the stool. “Don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, heart still racing.

Mingi grinned as he stepped around you. “Sorry. You were just so deep in it, I didn’t want to break the spell.”

“There was no spell,” you sighed, leaning back and stretching your shoulders. “More like a curse.”

He crouched slightly beside you, his eyes flicking to the empty canvas. “Nothing coming to you?”

“Not a damn thing,” you said, rubbing your temple. “And it’s due by the end of the week. I’ve got to submit something, or I’m screwed.”

He hummed thoughtfully, then glanced at you from the side.

Your hair was twisted into a loose bun, strands falling around your face like they’d given up on being held back. You had that quiet, unconsciously cute pout you always got when you were thinking too hard, and your old cropped tank top was streaked with dried paint like a second skin. The worn shorts didn’t help.

Before he could stop himself, the words left his mouth.

“Paint me.”

You blinked, slow and confused, turning to look at him. “What?”

He looked just as surprised as you felt, like his mouth had moved without alerting the rest of him. “I mean—if you’re stuck. Try painting me. I don’t know. Just an idea.”

“I’ve never painted a person before,” you said, blinking at him like he’d suggested you fly a plane.

“There’s always a first time,” he shrugged, smiling at you in that easy way that made it hard to tell if he was serious or just teasing.

You stared at him, weighing the idea. It wasn’t totally crazy — figures, portraits, that was art. And Mingi was… well, he was objectively beautiful. You could justify it. Professionally. Maybe. Sort of.

“…Sure,” you said, before you could talk yourself out of it.

His smile widened, and before you could ask him what exactly he had in mind, he was already moving across the room. He dragged the old red couch — the one you mostly used to toss sketchbooks on — into the center of your studio and turned it to face the easel.

You frowned. “What are you—?”

He flopped onto the couch without answering, his long body stretching out as he leaned into the cushions. One arm rested behind his head, the other draped lazily across his stomach. As he shifted, the denim jacket slipped open — more than it had earlier — and suddenly, his entire chest and abs were on full display.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t adjust. Just stayed there, perfectly casual, as if he hadn’t just asked his roommate to paint him nearly shirtless.

Your throat went dry. You forced yourself to look away and sat stiffly on the stool, fingers tightening around your brush.

This was fine. Totally fine.

You inhaled deeply and faced the canvas, doing everything you could to ignore the warmth crawling up your neck.

“Alright,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Let’s do this.”

—Mingi was having the time of his life.

He hadn’t moved much from the moment he stretched out on the couch—one arm behind his head, the other resting lazily across his stomach—but every time you looked at him over the top of your easel, something in him stirred.

He watched you closely, careful not to be obvious about it, but truthfully, he couldn’t help himself.

There was a kind of quiet intensity in the way you worked—brows furrowed, lower lip caught between your teeth as your eyes flicked from him to the canvas.

And damn, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Your hair was still half-tied, a few strands loose and sticking to your cheek. There were smudges of paint on your arm, your thigh, and one just under your jaw—he didn’t know if you knew it was there. He wanted to reach out, wipe it off. Or maybe not. Maybe he wanted to leave it there and kiss it anyway.

You wore that old crop top, faded and splattered with dried paint, hugging your frame just enough to drive him insane. The shorts didn’t help either—soft and low on your hips, revealing just enough to make his imagination reckless.

And yet, you looked so damn focused. So in your element. He couldn't stop watching you—not just because he wanted you, but because there was something about watching you work.

His gaze drifted to your hands—the ones that were shaping him in color and shadow, deciding how the world would see him through your eyes. He wondered what those hands would feel like if they weren’t holding a brush. If they were on him. On his chest, his neck.

Fuck

He was supposed to be helping you. That was the whole point. Break the art block. Be a good friend. Definitely not lie here getting hard over the way your tank top rode up every time you reached across your palette.

He swallowed, shifting slightly, but kept his voice casual. “So… how’s it looking?”

He already knew the real masterpiece in the room wasn’t the painting.

It was you.

—You’d painted dozens of things in your life. Places, abstract feelings. You’d worked with every kind of texture and color, every shade of light. But nothing—nothing—had prepared you for painting Mingi.

He hadn’t moved much since he had laid back on the couch, limbs stretched out like he was made to be looked at. His denim jacket had slipped even lower now, barely clinging to one shoulder, exposing the full plane of his chest and abs without even trying.

And you were trying. God, you were trying.

But your hand kept stalling. Not because you couldn’t figure out the lines of his jaw or the dip of his collarbone—you could. You saw it all clearly. The problem was wanting it too much.

It felt unfair. To have him right there, looking like that, and not be allowed to touch. Your fingers ached—not from holding the brush, but from the restraint. You wanted to feel the heat of his skin, trace the shapes your brush was only allowed to suggest. You wanted to see how soft his stomach felt under your palm, how he’d react if you pressed your thumb to the hollow of his throat.

It was a curse. Being this close, seeing all of him, but having to keep that polite, respectful distance.

Your thighs pressed together involuntarily, and you immediately looked back at the canvas like it could save you.

This whole setup was reckless. You should’ve said no. You should’ve pulled your head out of the gutter, remembered he was your roommate, your friend.

But now? With him laying there like he was waiting for you to do something about it?

You weren’t safe at all.

—Finishing the painting felt like coming out of a trance.

You lowered the brush slowly, your hand trembling just enough to notice. You didn’t know how long it had taken—probably not as long as it felt—but it had drained you in a way only he could. Not because the work was hard. Because holding back had been.

Mingi sat up as you rose from your stool. His gaze tracked you with quiet curiosity, jacket still barely clinging to him, hair a little mussed from leaning back. “Is it done?” he asked, voice softer now, a little husky from being quiet so long.

You nodded once, slow. “Yeah.”

He watched you closely as you turned the easel to face him, carefully angling it so he could see. But you didn’t stay to witness his reaction. You stepped behind the canvas, heart hammering, stomach tight. You’d shown him countless pieces before. He’d even helped you pick which ones to submit in the past. But this was him. His body. His eyes. His shape, filtered through how you saw him, and the feelings you’d buried for so long were now laid bare in the form of a painting.

His lips parted as he leaned in slightly, eyes roaming over the painting, slow, intent, quiet in a way that made you even more nervous. You couldn’t read him. Couldn’t tell if the silence meant he liked it or hated it.

You peeked out from behind the easel, voice barely above a whisper. “Is it bad?”

“Is it okay?” you asked, more gently now, stepping around the easel to sit beside him. You followed his gaze, then looked back at him, only to find his eyes had already moved. He was looking at you, not the painting.

You shifted, uneasy under the weight of it. “Mingi?”

His lips curved, slow, soft. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

“Are you sure?” you asked again, glancing back at the painting like maybe you missed something. Trying to see it from his eyes, wondering what he saw—but your gaze didn’t make it all the way. His hand came up gently, fingers catching your chin and guiding your face back to his.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, thumb brushing just beneath your lip. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You stilled, breath caught somewhere between your chest and your throat. You hadn’t even realized how close you were until now—knees touching, faces inches apart.

His hand lingered on your jaw before his eyes dropped briefly to your mouth, flicked back up, then down again

“Can I?” he asked, voice barely above a breath.

You were already leaning in before the question fully landed. Mingi groaned against your lips, deep and low, and his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer with no hesitation. The other cradled the back of your neck, holding you like he couldn’t risk letting go.

Your hands found his chest, warm and solid under your palms, fingers trailing over the lines you had just painted. It was surreal, touching what you’d studied from a distance, feeling the heat and the tension and the weight of him under your hands instead of just your brush.

He leaned back, taking you with him, and you climbed into his lap without thinking, straddling his hips, not breaking the kiss. His hands ran up under your shirt, not rushed, just seeking. Your name slipped from his lips, muffled against your mouth like a prayer.

You pulled back just enough to breathe, forehead resting against his, your hands still splayed over his chest.

“God,” he whispered, voice rough, lips brushing yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

© kysstar

[delugyu]

cold, cursed city (part 2)

summary: You wish your best friend would just leave your budding relationship alone.

pairings: beomgyu x fem!reader, soobin x fem!reader

word count: 26k

tags: ANGST, smut (MDNI), best friend and roommate!beomgyu, crush!soobin, possessiveness, manipulation, arguments, very bad reckless dumb decisions, codependency, beomgyu gets a bit crazy

smut tags: multiple smut scenes yet again sigh, switch!gyu, switch!reader, handjob, masturbation, fingering, squirting lollll, praise, degradation, pet names (puppy, baby, etc), overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, mind breaking kinda, utilization of a mirror, some pussy slapping, dubcon!! please beware!

notes: the smut here is so depravedddjshjshdjdjhs 😭 mind the angst in all caps btw… don’t get too mad at me LMAO. this is the final part btw! enjoyyyy<3

Being home feels so awkward now. You feel like you have to avoid Beomgyu, and that’s something you never would have imagined. You wonder if there’s any going back now in your friendship. Will it ever be normal again? It will take some time, you think, but you don’t doubt it. You can’t doubt it. It’s just that you need some time right now.

A part of you is thankful that he leaves you alone. It reprieves you of the constant guilt you were battling with, and you can talk to Soobin without feeling like a liar. Another part of you is terrified that he’s leaving you alone. It’s so unlike him to not be clingy and talkative. You wonder what he’s been going through these past few days.

You don’t even eat dinner together anymore. When you get home from work, you grab something quick to eat and go to your room as soon as you’re finished. The only times you’ve seen Beomgyu since your last conversation is in passing, when you see his figure walk down the hall or pop back into his room.

You really hope he’s okay. You can’t stand to dwell on it too much, obsessing over how he might be dealing with this. Maybe it’s been easy for him. Honestly, he probably needed this too. He must have been going insane the same way you were in his attempts to keep you to himself.

But you do miss him. You miss him when you’re sitting at the table, staring at an empty chair across from you. You miss him when you’re wiping off your makeup, looking for his presence behind you in the mirror. You miss him when you’re laying in bed, watching a movie on your laptop all alone. You miss him a lot.

You’re getting ready for work, staring blankly at yourself in the mirror as you fix your hair. You don’t really have anything to look forward to today. You’re not seeing Soobin after work, Chaewon’s been busy all week, and Beomgyu’s not talking to you. Maybe you’ll invite one of your other friends to hang out later. You hate feeling so lonely.

You grab your purse and head to the kitchen, opening a breakfast bar to eat before you put on your jacket and shoes. You’re about to head out, but a small bright-colored paper on your fridge catches your attention. That wasn’t there last night. You step closer to the fridge and lean in to read the post-it note.

Won’t be back till late tonight. Also eat up the fruits they’re gonna go bad!

Huh, you wonder why he didn’t just text you that. You take the note off the fridge and fold it neatly into your pocket. Your hand is wrapped around it for the whole duration of your walk to work.

When you get back home, you already know what you’ll eat for dinner. You feel a little happier than you have been the past few days as you bite down on the fruits, feeling giddy at the smallest hint of reconnection with Beomgyu. Not talking to him for so long was taking a toll on you.

After you finish cleaning up, you decide to write Beomgyu a note too.

Fruit is all done. Mission accomplished

With a satisfied smile, you stick the post-it on the same spot Beomgyu put his. Maybe a part of you hopes he’ll hang onto it the same way you did with his.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Beomgyu normally isn’t awake when you leave for work; today, he is. You stop in your tracks for a second when you see him sitting at the table, resting his head on his arms. You consider stepping into the bathroom to give him time to run off to his room, but decide against it when he looks at you with brightened eyes.

“Good morning,” he says when you finally enter the kitchen. You give him a small smile.

“You’re up early,” you note as you grab something quick for breakfast. You keep your distance, standing at the counter even if you yearn to leap into the seat across from him.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he explains simply.

“About what?” You keep your guard up.

“Anything,” he says. “I just miss talking to you.” Your standoffish demeanor melts, and your eyes soften. You know how he feels.

“Me too.” You finally move into your seat, excited to finally see something besides an empty chair when you eat here. “What have you been up to recently?”

He shrugs. “Playing games. Sitting in my room. Working. What about you?”

“Pretty much nothing,” you answer. While a part of the conversation does feel weird, seeing as you’re trying to reconnect with your literal best friend, it doesn’t feel stiff or awkward. You’re more happy than anything to hear his voice again. It’s been a long few days.

“We need to do more with our lives,” Beomgyu laughs. It feels good to see a smile on his face again.

“No literally, my screen time this week is embarrassing. Netflix has seen me more than you have in the past five days.” You mean it as a lighthearted joke, but Beomgyu only frowns a little at that. He looks away for a few seconds, then back at you with a gleam in his eyes.

“Why don’t we do a movie night tonight then?” he offers. You light up at his suggestion.

“Yes! I’ll pick up some take-out for dinner too.” You clasp your hands in excitement. A semblance of normalcy is coming back to you, and it tastes so sweet.

“I’m so happy,” Beomgyu says, and it shows on his face. You resist the urge to pat his head at how cute he is.

“Me too.” You get up from your chair and throw out your trash. “I’ve gotta head out now,” you announce, looking at the time.

“Okay, have fun at work!” You feel his stare on you as you gather all your things and move towards the door.

“Thanks, I’ll try,” you say before heading out.

Work feels less stressful today. You don’t feel as frustrated at your little mistakes as you have been recently. You talk to your coworkers a little more than usual at lunch, and you even offer to help on an overdue project for the company, feeling more generous than usual.

As you walk back home, take-out bag in hand, you find yourself feeling foolish for ever worrying that you and Beomgyu couldn’t go back to normal. It was so easy to fall back into this, it’s as if it was second nature. As long as Beomgyu knows not to cross the line, this night will prove that you made the right choice. See, you can have both Soobin and Beomgyu in your life.

Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket to check the notification. It’s a text from Soobin.

[Soobin] Hey, if you’re not busy do you want to grab dinner?

You pout, hating to have to reject him.

Omg I literally just got food :(

[Soobin] That’s okay!

[Soobin] There’s always tomorrow

Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling. Today is going so well, you almost can’t believe it. Finally, finally you get a day like this, where the world is kind to you again. Suddenly you find yourself more grateful for all the people you have in your life.

Tomorrow it is then!!

Beomgyu’s already sitting on the couch when you enter your apartment. You quickly take off your shoes and jacket so you can dash to your spot next to him, placing the take-out bag on the table in front of you.

“Hiii,” you greet while pulling a blanket into your lap.

“You’re finally back,” he says, smiling. You get yourself cozy as Beomgyu rips open the take-out bag, pulling out all the food.

“Yeah, I stayed a little longer to help with a few extra things.” You grab the remote to start scrolling through movie options. “What do you feel like watching?”

Beomgyu hums in thought. “Something scary?”

“That’s more for autumn, though,” you say. You start scrolling through some comedy movies instead. Those are always fun to watch with Beomgyu.

“Why’d you ask me what I want to watch then?” he laughs. You hold back your smile and whack his shoulder with the remote. He pouts at you in faux hurt as he places a hand over the impacted spot.

“Same reason you ask me what I want for dinner.” You scroll past a bunch of movies, trying to find one you haven’t seen that actually looks interesting. It’s a difficult task when you and Beomgyu have already watched so many movies together.

“It’s gonna take longer to find a movie than it is to watch one,” Beomgyu complains through a mouthful of food.

“Ew, finish chewing.” You keep your eyes on the screen, but you see him snicker in your peripheral. You finally land on a movie that sounds compelling, turning to Beomgyu to gauge his reaction.

He nods. “This one’s good.” You click on it and turn up the volume, then abandon the remote in favor of grabbing some food.

It feels just like a movie night a month ago would have felt. You fill the air with laughter and banter, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The only difference this time is that when you finish eating, you don’t cuddle into Beomgyu’s side. You have to be more mindful of keeping space between you now.

You laugh so hard at one point that you have to pause the movie to catch your breath and wipe your tears. “Oh my god, this was so needed,” you say to Beomgyu, still fighting off the last of your laughter.

“It literally was,” he agrees. “The past few days were legit the worst of my life.”

Your laughter finally dies when you hear that. “The worst? Why?”

Beomgyu laughs a little, but it doesn’t sound genuine. “I was scared that you hated me now.”

You turn your head to Beomgyu, but he doesn’t look back at you. God, did he seriously think that? You would never hate him. A weight falls onto your shoulders, and your heart aches.

“Well, don’t think like that ever again,” you say. He finally looks at you. You channel all your sincerity into your gaze. “Even if I’m mad at you, I still love you. You’re my best friend.”

It takes a second for him to react. He gives you a small smile that looks awfully forced, then looks down at his lap. “I love you too,” he says. You don’t want to ruminate on how weird that felt, so you take the remote to resume the movie.

“Back to watching,” you say, leaning back into the couch.

Once you finish the movie, Beomgyu helps you clean the mess on the table, and the light mood persists. You’re glad that you didn’t ruin your friendship with Beomgyu, cause you only feel this comfortable and at ease with a select few people. When you go to bed, you almost cry thinking about your day. You knew that you were having a hard time, but you didn’t realize how hard it was until you got a slice of your normal life back.

A feeling aside from happiness grows in your chest too, something more reflective: you feel proud of yourself. It was hard setting your boundaries with Beomgyu, but you’re so glad you did. Even this one day serves as evidence that you made the right choice.

You can barely fall asleep because you’re so happy, but you have work tomorrow, so you force your eyes shut and wait impatiently to see what the day brings.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“How have you been?” Soobin asks as you seat yourself in front of him. The restaurant he chose is a warm, cozy one, which is a relief. You were worried that he might pick somewhere too fancy, because you had no time to change out of your office attire.

“I’ve actually been pretty good, how about you?” You’ve been looking forward to talking to Soobin again. Ever since he asked you to be his girlfriend, you’ve been itching to feel ready for the label. You won’t force it upon yourself, but you know you’ll be there soon. You’re once again reminded of how lucky you are that Soobin’s willing to wait for you.

“I’m good too,” he answers. You love his smile, you hope he never stops giving it to you. The two of you catch up a bit on life, talking about work and friends. He seems to have been busy this week.

The food at the restaurant is great, but that’s no surprise because Soobin always knows the best places in the city. The night passes quickly, and you find yourself walking back home all too soon. He accompanies you when you ask him to walk you to your apartment. You blamed it on how late it is, but it’s actually because you want more time with him.

“Are you free on Saturday?” Soobin asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“For you, yes. What do you have in mind?” You want to hold his hand so bad, but you don’t know if you’re at that stage yet. You crave the weight of his hand in your own, swinging between the two of you. You want to lean into his side and engulf yourself in the brewing romance.

“I was wondering if you’d like to meet my friends? I’ve been talking about you a lot, and I know I promised you I’d introduce them.”

You light up at that, making sure to look up at him so he sees your grin. “That would be so fun.”

You’re thrilled at the idea that he talks about you with his friends a lot. Whew. Good thing you’re already outside, cause you need the fresh air. He’s everything you could ask for in a man.

“We’d be meeting at my place if that’s okay,” he says, sounding a little shy as he brings it up. You can’t hold yourself back now—you grab his hand and squeeze it excitedly.

“Of course! I’m dying to see your home. And your friends.” You can imagine the nerdy little decorations he might have lying around his place. You’d let him ramble about each and every little trinket for hours on end if he wanted to.

You’ve arrived at your street all too soon, finding yourself wanting to slow your steps to get a little more time with Soobin. “Thank you for taking me out today,” you say as you see your apartment come into view. You stop walking so that you can fully turn your body toward him. You just want one last good look before you’re off.

“Thanks for giving me the time,” he responds. His warm, sincere words always find the right way to strike your heart.

“I’ll see you Saturday, then.” You send him a parting smile, backing up a couple steps. “Good night, Soobin.”

“Good night.”

As you walk away, you have a revelation. Your body aches to run back to him, you feel like you’re missing something and you can’t quite end the night yet. There’s something that leaves you feeling only half fulfilled. There’s something more you crave.

You wanted to kiss Soobin. Your wish is left ungranted, lips tingling with the feeling of what could have been.

Your feet pause for just a second when the realization hits you again. You wanted to kiss Soobin. You wanted to feel his arms around you, wrapped in a hug that meant more than just a hug. You wanted to hold his face in your hands, feel the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. You wanted to kiss him.

Oh, your poor heart. Where do you store all this longing?

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Saturday comes faster than you anticipate. You change into outfit after outfit, trying to find the perfect thing to wear. You don’t want to over dress, but you don’t want to look like you don’t care at all either. What do you even wear to a get together for a friend group you don’t know?

You settle on a cute dress that you bought while shopping with Chaewon some time ago. It’s modest enough to wear casually, but pretty enough to make you feel confident in it. You’ll have to wear tights to save your legs from the cold, but that’s okay. You move to your vanity so you can do your hair, looking at yourself in every angle in the mirror.

“Where are you headed?” The sudden voice startles you, and you turn around to see Beomgyu standing by your door. You didn’t even notice him enter your room. You wonder how long he’s been there.

You look back in the mirror, fixing your hair. “Just meeting some people,” you answer. Beomgyu steps closer to you, only stopping once there’s just a few inches separating you. You look at him through the mirror. His eyes trail down your body.

“Well, you look pretty.” He fixes the strap of your dress on your shoulder.

Your face heats up, and you forget what you were about to do. “Thank you.”

His hand trails down your arm and stops at your elbow, rubbing your skin. “Won’t you be cold?”

“I have a jacket. Plus, I’ll be indoors,” you answer.

He hums and nods. “Are you coming back tonight?”

“I think so. If not, then I’ll be at Soobin’s place.”

For the first time, Beomgyu has the decency to not make a face when you bring up Soobin. Instead, he looks away and lets out a heavy exhale. Well, improvement is improvement. You’ll take it.

“Who else will be there?” he asks.

“Some of his friends.” You see him tense a bit at your side from the information. A slight unease fills you, but you don’t let it consume your mood. Tonight will be fun. You can’t let anything ruin it already.

“Are they all guys?”

You pause for a second in thought. “I’m not sure.”

He looks down and shakes his head in disbelief. “So you’re going to his place with a bunch of random guys?”

You pucker your lips and look down, feeling like you’re getting scolded. Was this a bad decision? Maybe you should have done this at a public place. Beomgyu’s words worry you. Soobin’s not that kind of guy, though, and you’re sure his friends are just as great as he is. He’s thoughtful and always concerned about your feelings. You shouldn’t be nervous.

“I trust him,” you say, making Beomgyu scoff. “Gyu, please.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just… worried.” He meets your eyes in the mirror. He really does look worried. You realize that maybe it’s not selfishness driving his words this time, not the need to keep you to himself, but the need to make sure you’re safe. Your heart softens at that.

“I’ll be okay,” you promise, giving him a small smile. “I’ll call you if anything goes wrong.” He nods and stays quiet for a second.

“Where does he live?” Beomgyu asks. You freeze at his question, but he’s quick to explain, “So I know where to go if something happens.”

He means well, you’re sure, but you’re still wary about giving him Soobin’s address. Of course you understand his concern, but another part of you wonders what he’ll do with it if nothing happens. He doesn’t exactly have a great streak with Soobin.

Is this you being paranoid? You feel like you have a legitimate reason to be cautious, but you also feel bad for thinking about your best friend like he’s some freak that’ll show up to Soobin’s house for no reason.

“I’ll just share my location if it comes to that.” You hope he doesn’t feel offended.

“Let me walk you to his place at least,” Beomgyu pleads. You sigh, trying not to look at him and focusing on your appearance instead.

“Don’t be so worried. I’ll be back by ten. Does that make you happier?”

He doesn’t hide his smile. “You know it does. You should watch me play League when you get back.”

You roll your eyes. “Watch you get it on with your one true love?”

“Weirdo. I love more things than just League.”

“Like Overwatch?” That earns you a smack to the back of your head. “Hey! Careful with my hair!”

You catch a glimpse of the time when your phone lights up, and you realize you’ve been taking too long to get ready. Why does time only fly in the most inconvenient moments? You take one final glance at yourself, ignoring Beomgyu’s frame in the mirror beside you.

“You sure you don’t need me to walk you there?” Beomgyu asks. You turn to him with a smile, and it takes a surprising amount of effort to not go up and loop your hands around his neck. You can’t help but feel endeared by his cuteness. You stay quiet for a few seconds just to look into his eyes.

“I’m sure,” you finally answer. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Beomgyu sits on your bed, and you wonder if that’s where he plans on staying while you’re out.

“Be safe,” he says as you’re heading out of your room.

You look over your shoulder with a grin. “No promises!” The flash of fear on his face makes you laugh. “I’m just kidding!”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You gather your breath as you stand before Soobin’s door, not wanting to knock until you’ve fully collected yourself. Your heart races in anticipation—well, also because you walked twice as fast as usual to get here, but mostly anticipation. Soobin seemed to get along with your friends, so you can assume that his friends should get along just fine with you too.

Finally, you tap your knuckles against the door, swaying on your feet as you wait for Soobin to emerge. It’s cold outside, the kind of cold where your breath fogs up with even the tiniest exhale, so you hope he’s quick to answer your knock.

You give Soobin a hug as soon as he opens the door. Part of it is to feed off some of his warmth, but most of it is because you’re excited to see him. His arms wrap around you to hold you close to him, and he doesn’t let go until you do.

“Are your friends here yet?” you ask when you pull away.

“Yes, they’re in the living room,” he answers. “Did you want a drink or anything?”

You shake your head. You’re too impatient to see his friends, wondering what kind of people he hangs out with. You follow him into the living room, and your eyes immediately fall on the two boys on the couch. It makes sense that his friend group is on the smaller side. They must be very close.

You wave and introduce yourself to his friends cheerfully. They do the same, and you learn that his friends are named Taehyun and Kai. Kai seems just as shy and endearingly awkward as Soobin, but Taehyun is pretty quick to open up to you. You find yourself talking to him a lot. You’re glad that you’re not the only chatty person here.

“So how’d you guys meet?” you eventually ask them, interested in how their friend group formed. The question makes Kai and Soobin laugh.

“I was friends with both of them before they knew each other,” Taehyun starts, leaning forward as he tells the story. “I had this match I wanted them to watch”—

“Match?” you interrupt, tilting your head.

“Yeah, I was really into boxing at the time.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the information. That explains his muscular physique. You can’t imagine Soobin watching a boxing match, though. “Oh, boxing, wow.”

“Obviously I won the match, but that’s beside the point.”

“You did not win,” Soobin chimes in with an incredulous laugh.

“Yes I did! I literally won by knockout!” Taehyun defends.

“I still feel like the other guy got way more hits in than you,” Soobin says.

“I think you’re just still mad from what happened that night.” That piques your interest.

“Why? What happened?” you ask.

“He’s gonna tell it way more dramatically than it was,” Soobin warns.

“That’s probably true,” Kai chimes in.

“I’ll say exactly what happened,” Taehyun starts. “After my match, I went to Soobin and Kai, and we all got to talking. Eventually, I brought them to the practice rooms so I could show them some basic MMA moves.”

“After basically forcing us to!” Soobin exclaims. “I tried to say no!”

Taehyun starts laughing already, seemingly caught up in the memory. It puts a smile on your face as you wait for him to finish the story. “These guys start swinging with the weakest moves I’ve seen in my life,” he says through his laughter. “And I was trying to motivate them, but when I pushed the sandbag so it would swing toward Soobin, it hit him so hard it knocked him over.”

You cover your mouth with your hands, concealing your amusement and looking towards Soobin to gauge his reaction to the story. He wears a sheepish smile and leans his head down, rubbing his arm to ease his embarrassment. Taehyun’s still laughing his ass off when you look back at him.

Kai stands to Soobin’s defense, “He didn’t really get knocked over, he just stumbled back.”

“He did more than stumble back,” Taehyun says. “He had his arms swinging in circles to save himself and everything.” That image gets a chuckle out of you.

“So upon my first impression of Soobin, I could tell he was on the unathletic side. I kind of am too, though,” Kai says.

“Don’t worry, Soobin. I don’t think I’d fare any better in the MMA world,” you say.

“We can be the world class losers of boxing instead,” he jokes.

The night lives on with lots of laughter and snacks. You start playing card games at one point, to which they have to extensively explain the rules first, and you end up having more fun than you expected to have. Turns out you’re not too shabby of a Spades player.

Taehyun and Kai head out after a couple hours, saying goodbye to you and telling you that they hope to see you again soon. You actually enjoyed yourself a lot today, so you wouldn’t mind seeing them again either.

Once Soobin’s friends are out the door, it leaves just the two of you in his living room. You see Soobin yawning and stretching out in his chair. “Are you tired?” you ask. His sleepy nod makes you laugh a little.

“You can sleep on my bed if you want. I’ll take the couch,” Soobin offers. What a sweetheart. You must be smiling so stupidly, but you can’t help it. Your heart is a fickle thing.

“Thank you, but I promised Beomgyu I’d come back home tonight,” you say.

Soobin looks out the window. “It’s so dark out, though. And it’s freezing, your jacket won’t be enough. Your legs will be ice.”

“It’s okay, I’m good at handling the cold.” You aren’t really, but you don’t want him to worry. He frowns, looking down at your outfit.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me. I think you look pretty in everything. I’d love for you to dress warmly next time.” There’s a distinct hammering in your chest now. His compliment makes you weak in the knees.

He grabs your coat and delivers it to you. You thank him as you put it on, zipping it all the way up to prepare for the cold. You smile up at him in hopes that it eases his worries.

“Let me grab you a winter hat,” Soobin says, disappearing for a minute. He emerges once more with a beanie in hand, placing it on your head for you. “There. To keep your ears warm.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at yourself shyly. You’re not the type to get all flustered and quiet, but something about Soobin brings it out of you.

“Thanks for seeing me, and for meeting my friends.” You meet his eyes again when he says that.

“Of course. Today was fun,” you say. You stare at each other for a few long seconds as you linger by his door. You don’t really want to leave.

Soobin is every bit as handsome as ever, and suddenly it’s killing you that you’re not all over him. You want to grab his shoulders and pull him close, let your souls intertwine for just a few moments. You want to feel his breath on your face, you want his eyes on your lips and a yearning to stir inside him.

Your heart jumps, every thought in your head is filled with something about kissing Soobin. You’re so easily reduced to instincts when your mind is clouded like this. Your face is pulled by some unknown force closer and closer toward his face. Your eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head just slightly.

All to meet nothing.

“Not yet…” Soobin says, slowly retracting his face. You watch him back away from you, and the inches start to feel like miles. A sense of humiliation washes over you. Your face heats up. Why did you do that?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking up at him apologetically. At least he doesn’t seem mad or upset—that would kill you.

He shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t be.” He presses his lips to your forehead. You reach for his hand, holding it so that you know he won’t try to leave. He accepts your touch easily, lacing your fingers together and staring into your eyes. There’s a warmth in there that makes you want to lean in and try to kiss him again, but your humility saves you from that.

“Can I ask, when will you be ready?” Your voice is meek, and a part of you almost fears his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready to call me your boyfriend,” he answers softly, simply. You nod, considering his words. Your gaze must be distant because you’re so deep in your thoughts, wondering if maybe you are ready now.

Does your heart stop at the idea of calling him yours because it entices you, or because it scares you? You don’t want to waste Soobin’s time standing here to contemplate it; you know you’re going to need more than a couple minutes to figure this out. No matter how much you want to, you can’t act on impulse with him—you want to foster a love that’s true and natural.

“I think I’ll have that answer soon,” you say.

“Don’t worry about it. You could take a year if you need.” His words are so effortless, and he really means it, which pushes your heart further towards a path alongside him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you say, blinking up at him sweetly with a small smile.

He squeezes your hands. “Soon can’t come soon enough.”

You giggle, then stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “As a goodbye present.” His blushing cheeks at your action serve as a goodbye present for you.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Something changed last night. Your mind can’t stray from Soobin for too long, wondering when you’ll see him next, what he’s doing right now, how his day has been. You feel a yearning unlike any kind you’ve felt before. Your girlish heart has become something weak, so prone to go haywire at the slightest thought of him.

More than anything else, you think of calling him yours. You think of how you’d be able to spend the night at his place, cuddling up to him and falling asleep in his arms. You think of how you could stare into his eyes and call him your boyfriend. You could lean in and kiss him whenever you wanted, you could let him call you sweet pet names.

You think you might be ready. You want to be Soobin’s girlfriend.

You’re freaking out, body buzzing as you pace around your room, waiting for Chaewon to pick up the phone.

“Heyyyyy,” her voice greets through the phone, and you finally stop pacing to focus on talking.

“I got huge Soobin news,” you say, getting straight to the point.

“Tell me!!!” she screeches.

“I think I’m gonna ask him to be my boyfriend next time I see him.” That earns you an even higher pitched screech.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m so excited! Oh my god. What happened?”

“I literally just can’t stop thinking about being in a relationship with him. It feels like I’m going through withdrawals whenever I’m not with him. He’s been wanting to put a label on us, but I’ve been pushing it off till now,” you explain.

“I’m so invested in this. You would be the cutest couple ever. I will gladly be your third wheel and take all your cute Instagram photos for you,” she rambles.

“So you think it’s a good idea?” Her approval is important to you, and you’re desperate for her to give you a little more confidence in this.

“Yes, do it. As long as you make me your maid of honor.”

You laugh, so relieved that Chaewon supports you in this. You hope Beomgyu takes it just as well, but of course that’s wishful thinking.

“What’s the right way to ask him? Should I be casual or go all out with some extravagant date night?” you ask.

“Come on, it’s you we’re talking about. Obviously you’re gonna go crazy with it.” You laugh because she’s totally right.

“I’m thinking a hotel by the sea and a rose petal path to the bed. And candles, like so many it’s a fire hazard.”

“Yes, and then those eat me panties,” she adds. You burst out laughing at the idea. “Body oil too probably.”

“Oh, you got the whole vision. You want me to record it for you too?” you tease.

“No need, I’ll be hiding in your suite’s closet.”

“Thrilling. I finally get to help you live out your voyeuristic dreams.”

“Right? It’s a win-win,” she says. “But anyway, how do you think Beomgyu’s gonna react?”

You hum in thought. “I don’t know, but we’ve pretty much gone back to normal over the past few days. He didn’t put up a huge fight when I went to Soobin’s last night.”

“Girl, hold up. You went to Soobin’s place?!”

“Yep.”

She’s quiet for a second. “Did he rock your world?” You smile and roll your eyes.

“We didn’t have sex, I just met his friends. They were very nice, by the way.”

She tsks. “I’m so mad, you missed out on such a perfect opportunity to sex him up.”

“Well, I’ll let you know when that happens.”

“Please do.”

“Anyway,” you say, getting back on track. “I’ll tell Beomgyu when he gets back from work. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if he gets all annoying about it. It’s actually pissing me off just imagining it.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not his life. You don’t even have to tell him,” Chaewon reasons.

“I mean, he’s my best friend, he should know. You and him are the two people I talk to about everything.”

“Yeah, but at this point you should be more focused on protecting your peace. What Beomgyu doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

You know that Beomgyu would find out eventually, though, and then he’d be even more mad at you for not saying something sooner. Any peace you’d have would be very temporary and delicate.

Chaewon starts up again, “I honestly think you should tell him after you make things official. That way he can’t stop you from doing it.”

You hold back a groan, not wanting to weigh out the options. “He’ll be so upset if I don’t tell him first,” you say.

“Still. He knows he can make you halt those plans, and I don’t want you getting hurt again.” You frown, but it softens you to hear how much Chaewon cares about your feelings.

“I’ve got a few hours until he comes back to decide,” you say.

“Just know that I’m one hundred percent team ‘don’t tell him’. Up to you, though.”

“I’ll let you know. Anyway, I’m gonna go now. Going to rehearse this conversation in my head.” Chaewon laughs and says her goodbye, then you hang up.

You drop onto your bed with a sigh. You hope Beomgyu can keep being normal about Soobin, and a part of you really thinks he can, but what if he hates you after this? He might decide he doesn’t want anything to do with you if you’re going to be in a relationship with a guy that he hates. (Hates for no reason, but that’s not something you choose to dwell on today.)

Beomgyu should understand why you want a love life. You crave a second half, someone who will mold you into a better person and navigate the rest of your life with you. Soobin can soften your rough edges. He’s got all the patience and goodness of heart that you need in someone. You want to know that a kind of love exists that you have not yet felt, something deeper and more colorful than anything you know. You want Soobin’s eyes to melt you each time you look into them, each time you think of them. Your heart has grown tired of just being a beating thing; it needs to be lit aflame, to burn for someone, to love so hard it doesn’t fear ruin.

Do you need Beomgyu’s permission for that? Is it as if he’s some guard to your heart? No, but the threat of conflict from his disapproval unnerves you. You try thinking of the best way to break the news to him.

Some long-winded explanation where you pour out your heart would probably irritate him most. You’ll have to keep yourself from going off on tangents—the more you say, the more ammunition he has against you. It’s not like you have to defend your decision to him.

If you’re too broad or dismissive about it, he’ll assume you don’t care or you’re hiding something. His accusations peeve you like nothing else, so the more you can avoid that, the better.

Realistically, his reaction doesn’t depend on your wording, for the most part. It depends on how mature he is about you getting a boyfriend. If he can’t handle the idea, then it won’t matter how you break the news, he’ll freak out no matter what. If he can accept that you can have other men in your life, then he won’t give you a hard time about this.

All you can do is hope for the better outcome. You pray that Beomgyu has learned his lesson in maturity by now.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you hear Beomgyu open the door, you rush down the hall to him. You’ve spent all day considering how to have the conversation about Soobin, and you’re excited to just get it over with now. The sooner this weight falls off your shoulders, the better.

“Hiii,” you greet as you watch him take off his coat and shoes.

“Hi. You hungry?” he asks. You shake your head.

“I had lunch an hour ago.” You notice he ordered food somewhere, which he just stuffs in the fridge.

“Do you wanna hang out with me and Yeonjun tomorrow night?” he asks. “We’re gonna watch some band perform at the common.”

“Depends how I feel after work.”

“Alright. You should definitely come though.” You don’t know how to respond to that, so you just don’t. You’ve got a different conversation on your mind anyway.

After a few seconds, Beomgyu starts walking off, but you call his name to stop him before he gets too far. He looks at you expectantly, raising his eyebrows.

“I wanted to talk about something,” you say. He remains still for a second, then carefully takes a few steps closer to you.

“Bad thing or good thing?” he asks.

You hesitate for a second. “Good thing.” You’re feeling nervous again, even though you know you shouldn’t be. Beomgyu’s been fine. He’ll survive if you tell him this.

“You don’t look like it’s a good thing,” he says. He must have caught on to your anxiety. Your fidgeting hands probably gave it away. You hold them behind your back so you stop fiddling with them. You breathe in as deeply as you can without making it too obvious that you’re calming your nerves.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to ask Soobin to be my boyfriend.”

You wait for a reaction. He blinks. Is that a good sign? He’s still breathing, too. Okay, so the news didn’t kill him at least.

“You’re asking him to be your boyfriend?” he repeats, as if he didn’t hear you right the first time.

Fuck, why is your heart pounding so hard? “Yes.”

He sighs and averts his gaze, looking around for a few awkward seconds. You tighten your lips, not really knowing what to do now.

“Your boyfriend?” he asks again.

You give him a curt nod. “Yep.”

You see it flash in his eyes then, something that brings you back to all those times he made your life so difficult. He doesn’t even need to say anything for you to start feeling disappointed, that expression was more than enough.

“I tried backing off, but I just can’t do it anymore. You can’t do this,” he insists. Your head is going to explode. Not this again. Things were going so well.

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it,” you say, but you know he won’t listen.

“I can’t stand it. I hate thinking about how much you like him, how you kiss him, how he’s doing everything I could be doing,” he rambles.

“I’m not hearing this,” you dismiss as you start walking down the hall to your room. You feel Beomgyu’s presence loom behind you. He sure is determined. “Knock it off, Gyu.”

He pushes the door open when you try to close it, stepping in and facing your hard stare. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t back off. You feel inclined to be stubborn and stand your ground too.

“You want me to change? You want me to be more like him?” he asks. There’s something unhinged in his expression. It’s like he’s losing his grip on his sanity. Fear creeps up your spine, but it doesn’t overshadow your frustration.

“No, I like you the way you are,” you answer.

“No you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t need Soobin.” He sounds angry, you must have really bothered him this time. That’s okay. You’ll take this over his pity parties. It’s easier to fight fire with fire.

“I don’t need Soobin, I just like him,” you say.

“Then what’s wrong with me?” he counters. He’s really worked up this time, frustration radiating off of him.

“Nothing! You need to stop with this!” you exclaim. You’ve never had an argument like this with him, fueled by rage and nothing else. There’s no undertones of sadness or attempts to remain calm this time.

“Just tell me you hate me,” he says, stepping closer to you, invading your space. You meet his gaze, unwavering, even if you have to tilt your head up to challenge his stare.

“I don’t fucking hate you.” You cross your arms, not letting your guard down.

“Then prove it,” he says. You wonder if your eyes hold as much fire as his do right now. You refuse to back down. You refuse to lose this. He wants you to prove you don’t hate him? Fine.

You don’t let yourself think about it as you crash your lips onto his. You hold his head still, but it’s not like he was going to run away. He meets your lips with equal amounts passion and frustration. The kiss is nothing friendly or nice—it’s not soft and slow, not sweet, not the dreamlike kiss you’ve been waiting to have with Soobin. This feels less like a kiss and more like war.

You don’t hold yourself back, sucking and biting at his lips carelessly. Your fingers are pulling so hard at his hair that you know it has to hurt, but you don’t care. You hope it does. His hand is on your jaw, keeping you in place so he can lick into your mouth as he pleases.

You hope he tastes your anger on your lips. You hope your tongue feels bitter in his mouth, that it leaves burns in its wake. You hope this kiss will haunt him at night, that he’ll feel you lingering hours later, that he sees your face on his ceiling when he’s trying to fall asleep.

He can never settle for friendship. The simple life could have been so good if he accepted it. You were stupid to think he’d let things go back to normal and stay that way. You hate feeling so dumb. You hate being so easy.

“Is that what you fucking wanted?” you ask as you pull away from the kiss. You wipe your mouth to clear the saliva that collected there. He doesn’t answer, only pulling you in for another kiss, unforgiving and angry. Your teeth clash and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He tangles his hands into your hair, pushing you deeper into the kiss.

You’ve never felt so angry at him in your life. You try to channel it all into the kiss, using more force than necessary. He should pay for doing this, for getting under your skin yet again.

He growls into your mouth—you guess he’s still angry too. Why should he be? You’re making out with him and no one else. If he wants to complain about that, then he must really be losing his mind.

You walk him backwards until he sits back on your bed, disconnecting your mouths so you can look down at him. His lips are swollen and coated with saliva. He’s hungry—starving—and can’t stand not touching you for even a second, so he grabs your hips and pulls you onto the bed with him.

There goes those walls you built up. There goes those weeks of putting in effort towards you and Soobin. You lose, again. Is this how it will always be with him? Was he playing the long game all along?

He knows you better than anyone. If anyone could figure out a way to set your life off course, it would be Beomgyu.

You have to get even with him. You have to stop taking everything lying down. You stare at him, who looks up at you like he’s waiting for your next move. Fucking prick. You’ll show him.

You shove his pants past his hips and pull his cock out to find him already fully hard. You’re not surprised. Precum oozes from his slit, leaking out on his tip. When you look up to see his face, he’s biting his lip in anticipation.

“Always need to have your fucking way, huh,” you say, squeezing the base of his cock. He throws his head back and moans, thrusting up into your fist. You let go of his dick to push his hips down with angry force. “Don’t you dare move.”

You spit into your hand and jerk his cock quickly, with little care as to how rough you are with him. You squeeze his length like you’re milking him, like you’re trying to get him to burst. If you can embarrass him and have him spilling all over himself in such a short amount of time, you’d feel on top of the world.

He’s thick and hot in your hand, but you don’t let it cloud your mind. You need to put him in his place. He doesn’t deserve a spot in the lustful crevices of your mind right now. This is about balancing the scale.

You keep your stare hard even as he cries and whimpers. You don’t let him see any reaction out of you, because the last thing you want is for him to take control of the situation again. At least like this, you feel like you’re not totally weak for him.

His hips jolt up and he gasps at your ministrations. He grabs onto your wrist, trying to pry you off.

“Behave,” your order, no room for compromise in your voice.

“Baby! Baby, stop, I’m gonna”—his sentence is cut off by a drawn-out moan. It’s like his body can’t decide whether to run away from your hand or rut into it.

“Fucking do it then,” you say through gritted teeth, fucking your fist over him faster. You spit onto his cock to lubricate it even more.

“No, not yet,” he pleads, breathing heavily. It’s cute watching him try to escape the feeling, but you won’t let him. You use your other hand to fondle his balls, and once you do that, he’s a goner. He’s spilling his seed onto your hand with his head thrown back and a loud cry. His hips stutter up into your fist, and his cock twitches in your hand. You feel a bit of a power high from that.

You slow down for only a few seconds before you’re pumping him wildly again. He looks at you with wide, helpless eyes. His body’s jolting with the shocks of overstimulation, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at that.

Beomgyu whimpers your name pathetically. His arms are shaking as they cling onto yours. You don’t relent, merciless as you try to coax another orgasm from him.

“It’s too much!” he cries, and you can even hear the shake in his voice.

“Take what I give you or I’ll leave,” you spit. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I can take it.” He pries his arms off you and keeps them at his sides, deciding he wants to be good and listen all of a sudden.

“That’s what I thought.” You twist your hand as it goes down on his length, squeezing harder. Your thumb swipes over his slit when it reaches the head of his cock. “Cum for me, dirty little puppy. Show me how filthy you are.”

As you command it, his orgasm crashes over him immediately. You watch in awe. It’s like he’s trained to follow your words. His hot cum lands on your hand yet again, and you continue jerking him until his high is over. You have to stop yourself from making him cum a third time, too addicted to his little sounds of pleasure.

“Thank you,” Beomgyu says breathlessly. You run your fingers through his hair with your clean hand.

“Looks like the dirty pup is good for something,” you coo condescendingly.

“I am good, let me show you. Sit on my face.” Before you can even respond, he’s already lying down and sticking his tongue out. You furrow your brows at his eagerness and decide to put his mouth to use a different way. Your cum-coated hand meets his tongue, and you let him lave at his mess all over you.

“Hm, guess your tongue is pretty good,” you say mindlessly as you watch him lick all his cum off you. When he finishes cleaning your hand, he sucks two of your fingers past his lips. You smirk and slowly fuck them in and out of his desperate mouth. He swirls his tongue around your digits, then licks up between them. He circles the tip of his tongue on the skin between your two fingers as if it was your clit. You wish it didn’t make your pussy throb.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth and spread them apart, admiring the strand of saliva that forms. You take off your bottoms and panties, and Beomgyu damn near starts panting in excitement.

“Yes, come sit on my face, let me taste your cunt,” he babbles, stars in his eyes. His excitement dies when your saliva-slickened fingers meet your core instead. You make sure he has a great view as you play with your pussy.

“You got me so nice and wet, thank you puppy.” Your voice is sweet, even if your motive is to torture him. You exaggerate your reactions to your touch, moaning extra loud when you circle your clit. Your other hand disappears under your shirt to play with your nipples. You bite your lip as you push your hips up into your hand.

Beomgyu sits up and watches you with a slackened jaw. He starts leaning in between your legs, and you push him away with a foot to his chest.

“Uh-uh, you can’t touch,” you tell him.

“But look! My fingers are longer and thicker than yours,” he says, holding out his hand. You roll your hips up into your hand, remembering the way his fingers felt inside you. You slip two fingers into your cunt to make up for the sudden emptiness you feel.

You fuck yourself with vigor, pistoning your fingers into you, putting on a good show for your best friend. You want him to think you’re not some weak girl who folds for his touch every time. Even though your body yearns for Beomgyu to take care of you, you have to make a point to him.

You get so lost in the feeling of your own fingers that you stop looking at Beomgyu, focusing entirely on the pleasure taking over. That was clearly a mistake, because suddenly you feel two of his fingers entering your pussy alongside your own. You cry out at the sensation, body shaking at the stretch.

It’s hard to move your hand now, but Beomgyu seems to find a way perfectly fine. “B-bad boy,” you scold, but your voice is so shaky that it holds no real bite. When he aims his fingers up, it forces your own to sit snug against your g-spot, resting there as Beomgyu jackhammers into you.

“See? Feels good,” he says. With his other hand, he rubs at your clit viciously, needing to please you more than you can please yourself. “This is so much better, right?”

Your body is buzzing, and you can’t even respond to him. Your mouth hangs open stupidly as he pulls moan after moan from you. A foreign pressure starts building inside of you, more intense than anything you’ve felt before. Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hips away, but Beomgyu’s determined.

“P-puppy, it feels different,” you manage to stutter out. His breath hitches and he connects his mouth to your inner thigh to kiss it. He doesn’t stop his ministrations—if anything, your words encourage him to go even harder.

“You’re gonna squirt for me?” he says with astonishment, and you feel his grin growing against your thigh. It’s blinding, the way the pleasure is consuming you. His hands are wild, working at you without mercy to bring you over the edge. It’s like he needs this more than you.

“I’m—nngh, oh god,” you stammer, body twitching away, but Beomgyu’s so desperate to see you fall apart that he doesn’t let you stray from the feeling for even a second. The pressure snaps and you cry out, legs kicking out as you release all over him. You feel your juices squirting out of you, and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve been embarrassed at how much seems to leak out.

Beomgyu loves it, lapping up what spills onto his wrist and your thighs. You’re shaking uncontrollably, immediately pulling your hand from your center once Beomgyu draws back. You focus more on gathering your breath after that orgasm than on Beomgyu’s tongue licking every inch of your thighs.

You flinch when his tongue finds your pussy, too sensitive to take anymore. You push his head away and sit up, snapping your legs shut. He pouts, but sits up as well.

“Was that good?” he asks, biting down a smile. He leans in like he really wants to know your answer.

You press your palms into your eyes like you’re relieving a headache. Rationality comes back to you, but there’s no point in yelling at him now. You’re the one who shoved your hand down his pants.

“You really don’t want me dating Soobin, huh?” You feel more exhausted than angry now.

“I’ll do so much worse if you make him your boyfriend,” he says.

You blink at him. Is that some kind of threat? “What do you mean?”

“Just don’t be with him and you won’t have to find out.” You don’t have it in you to fight him. If it was this easy for you to fall back on your word and get intimate with Beomgyu again, you might as well hold off on the boyfriend label anyway. Maybe you weren’t as ready as you thought you were.

“You can leave my room now,” you say, leaning your head against your pillow. You’ll probably spend the next hour contemplating everything you’ve been through in the past month. He doesn’t need to be there for that.

“Nah.” He lays down beside you. You inhale slowly, gathering the control to not push him off the mattress.

“Whatever.” You’ll just have your mini crisis with him next to you. It doesn’t even matter.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

To your surprise, you don’t feel completely miserable the next day. Of course, you go throughout the day feeling awful about ruining your chance to be with Soobin any time soon and angry at yourself for touching Beomgyu again, but besides that you’re feeling normal.

You wish your work day would have lasted a little longer—something you never thought you’d hope for—because when you get home and see Beomgyu on the couch, you’re already feeling annoyed. You were doing so good before yesterday. Seeing him is just a reminder of how much you screwed up.

He seems as giddy as he could ever be when you approach him on the couch. You grab a blanket and curl yourself into his side wordlessly, just wanting his warmth. He accepts it gratefully, throwing an arm over you and getting you comfortable.

You can’t even really feel upset. You’re familiar with this cycle already: Beomgyu will bitch about Soobin to you, you’ll get each other off, you’ll argue some more, then you’ll hang out like nothing happened. You put yourself back in this situation, so you spare yourself the pity.

“I’m so glad we’re back to this. It was killing me to not hold you all those days,” Beomgyu says before pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I don’t want you to be upset anymore.”

“I’m not upset,” you say flatly.

“I want you to be happy. I’m really happy now.” You only hum in acknowledgement. You don’t really have anything to say to that.

Some time passes in which you and Beomgyu watch television, except you’re mostly going on your phone and Beomgyu’s halfway to falling asleep. You get a notification from Soobin, making you freeze for a moment.

[Soobin] We should meet up tonight if you’re available :)

Beomgyu reads the text over your shoulder. “You better not say yes.” You flinch and back away from him, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Cause you said you’d go with me and Yeonjun to the concert!” he whines.

“I didn’t say I was gonna go with you and Yeonjun,” you counter. The entitlement is crazy.

“I asked you first though. If you feel fine enough to hang out with Soobin, why can’t you hang out with me?” he asks.

“What have we been doing for the past hour?”

“That doesn’t count! We live with each other, we have to hang out at home.”

“Wow, ungrateful. You should thank the universe for each second you get to spend with me, home or not.”

“I do. I can show you how grateful I am too, if you want.” You roll your eyes at his suggestion.

“I think I’m okay,” you say. When you lift your phone back up, Beomgyu takes it from your hand and tosses it gently onto the floor. You watch it land a few feet away from you. You don’t feel like getting up to grab it, so you let the device stay where it is. You settle with insulting him instead, “You suck.”

“I don’t want you to hang out with him tonight,” he complains with a pout. “I want my best friend.”

“Gyu, you’ll live.” What a flair for the dramatics he has.

“Just this once, please,” he begs. “You know you’re going to feel guilty and awkward hanging out with Soobin after what we did yesterday anyway.”

Shit. You hate it when he’s right.

You sigh, “Fine.” You’re enveloped in his embrace immediately, face smushed into his chest as he cheers in victory. “This better be the best band I see perform in my life.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The concert is pretty mediocre. The band consists of some grungy college-aged boys who sing about being depressed and cheating on girls. Not quite your music of choice, but you enjoy your time as much as you can nonetheless.

Beomgyu’s arm stays slumped over your shoulders pretty much the entire time. For warmth reasons, you don’t complain, but it is pretty embarrassing to see Yeonjun looking at the two of you weirdly from time to time. He must be able to sense that something’s off between you.

Beomgyu splits off at some point to buy a water bottle somewhere, and you’re left alone to talk to Yeonjun. He doesn’t even spare you a glance at first, which makes you think he might be having a bad day.

“You like this band?” you ask him, breaking the silence. You’re confused why he glares at you when he finally turns his head your way.

“You like Beomgyu?” he retorts, voice filled with some weird scorn.

“Woah, what?”

“Aren’t you dating Soobin? Why are you letting Beomgyu touch you?”

You have no clue where this is coming from. Beomgyu must have been talking to Yeonjun about the things you two did together. “Did Beomgyu say something to you?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says. “He’s been telling me all about how you’re sleeping with him while seeing Soobin.”

That motherfucker. He’s bragging about banging you to other guys? You’re nearly seeing red, but you keep your composure so you don’t look crazy in front of Yeonjun. “Soobin and I aren’t exclusive,” you defend.

Yeonjun gives you a humorless laugh. “Would you be happy if Soobin was fucking other girls right now?”

The thought puts a bitter taste in your mouth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I”—

“Don’t lie. You’d cry your heart out.” Yeonjun levels you with a knowing stare. You meet it, unwavering, but you know he’s right.

“You don’t know the whole story. I tried putting a stop to it,” you say.

“And what? You relapsed like he’s some drug? You need to get real.”

You want to be mad, but what’s the point? You’re getting reality checked, and it burns, but maybe Yeonjun’s right.

“Beomgyu puts up a fight every time I talk about Soobin. He won’t let me be.” You feel defensive, like you have to prove you’re not totally at fault.

“So you let him down easy with some pussy?” he asks with sizable disappointment in his voice. God, this is embarrassing.

“You don’t get it.” It’s not like you didn’t say no to him before. You tried removing yourself from the room, you tried telling him this can’t happen, you tried everything except leaving him. It doesn’t work.

“I don’t have to get it. You should do better.” The conversation ends at that, his words left to linger in your mind.

You stand silently beside Yeonjun and stare blankly at the band on the stage. Time has got to move a little faster. You pray Beomgyu doesn’t take much longer getting back.

When he does come back, you don’t let him cling to you like a magnet. He looks at you a little weird for rejecting his arm around you, but he doesn’t say anything until you get in his car.

“Are you okay? You seem kinda pissed.” His question only serves to irritate you further.

“You told Yeonjun that we sleep with each other?” You don’t hide the anger from your voice. He looks at you with wide eyes. Clearly he knows he fucked up. “I never once let you put your dick in me.”

Beomgyu breathes out slowly, then pouts his lips and taps awkwardly on the steering wheel. You allow him his minute of shameful silence before starting up again, “Do you just not respect me? I doubt you told him what exactly led to this.”

He still doesn’t look at you. He can try all the cute, pitiful tactics he wants, you’re not falling for it this time.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, head down like he’s hating his life right now. Good, you hope he is.

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll stop doing anything more than platonic with me.” He looks at you with upturned brows and scared eyes. It’s as if you spoke his worst fear into reality.

“No, I’ll tell Yeonjun I lied, I promise,” he pleads.

“Why? You didn’t lie. I’m just some whore you get to brag about, right?”

“No! I lied, I was wrong, I should have never opened my mouth to Yeonjun. I’m stupid.” Ugh, you can’t take his self-pity.

“We’re never crossing that line again. I was stupid. I’m actually glad Yeonjun gave me that reality check.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to stop, I’ll just shut my mouth about it now,” he says.

“I don’t want to risk ruining everything anymore.” He has nothing to say to that. It’s eerily quiet for a moment. “Can you bring us home now?”

He puts the car in drive. The ride is silent the whole way home.

──── ──── ──── ──── ───���

The longest week of your life passes by, in which you barely hang out with Beomgyu, barely see Soobin, and barely talk to anyone. You consider it to be a reset week for you, trying to detach yourself from everyone else to focus on finding out what you want. With so many complicated relationships in your life, you need plenty of time to think this through.

You spend a lot of nights considering what exactly you want from Beomgyu and Soobin. You weigh all your thoughts out and philosophize them, waiting for something to click and show you all the answers. What you learn instead is that no amount of contemplation is going to clear things up for you completely.

When looking at it honestly, your life has been a mess of ups and downs since meeting Soobin. It’s not his fault at all—actually, when you try to pin the blame on someone, the dart lands like a bullseye on your own face. And it’s not that Soobin is a bad influence on your life, making you do all these stupid things; instead, it’s that you have no willpower when it comes to Beomgyu.

So, do you end things with Soobin? You rack your brain for a smart answer, but it’s hard to even think anything after forming that sentence. A pit of emptiness forms in your chest instead, and avoiding that uncomfortable feeling is within your own self-interest.

You itch to call Chaewon more times than you can count, but you don’t let yourself give in. You want this to be something you tackle without the influence of anyone else. You already know how Chaewon would tell you to solve this, anyway.

A couple nights throughout the week, Beomgyu has knocked on your door, and neither time did you let him in. Out of everyone you know, he has the biggest influence on you. Your rational mind is thrown out the window when it comes to him. You don’t think that’s something you can stop or control.

He texts you and makes sure you’re okay, which you’re grateful for. You still eat dinner with him, and you even let yourself indulge in one movie night, but you’re trying to keep your distance so you can keep your head clear.

You’re at a mental standstill, looking down a multitude of paths that have no clear end. You could move in with Chaewon and make Soobin your boyfriend. You could end things with Soobin and see if you can go back to normal with Beomgyu. You could do nothing and give up your hand in this game.

You feel like you’re finding a new law of arithmetic trying to decide what to do next. You’re not the thinking type—clearly, as if the past couple months haven’t been proof enough—so you earn no insight and all headache from this.

Go you, trying to be independent and figure out your life on your own. Look where that got you, huddled up in your bedroom and even more depressed than before. You need a drink.

Matter of fact—

Wanna go to a bar?

You don’t even have to wait a minute for Chaewon’s response. ‘Bar’ to her is exactly what ‘squirrel’ is to dogs.

[Chaewon] You already know my answer. I’m getting ready right nowwww

No boy talk or I’m ending my shit in front of you

You need one night to just let loose and stop thinking. You’ve had enough of deliberating upon the men in your life this week.

[Chaewon] Oh you need those drinks bad

[Chaewon] Okay noted

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You don’t expect to be interrogated as soon as you open the door to your apartment the next morning, but Beomgyu’s insistent prying serves as a lovely pairing with your massive hangover.

“Where were you last night?” he asks before you can even open the door all the way. You’re too busy adjusting to how bright the room is to process his question at first. You squint to save your eyeballs as much as you can. You walk right into Beomgyu when you try to properly enter the room. He holds your waist to steady your balance. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

You shake your head and instantly regret it, since it makes it feel like your brain is sloshing around inside your skull. “Hungover.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going out,” he says. He doesn’t sound mad or accusatory, but it still irritates you because you don’t want to deal with this right now.

“Didn’t realize I had to.”

“You always do when you go out drinking,” he reasons.

You sigh, “Yeah, well, I didn’t this time.”

He scrunches your brows as he takes in your tone. “Are you mad at me or something?”

You rub your eyes. You need to bury your head under your pillow, this light is killing you, and this conversation needs to be over with. “I’m not mad at you.”

He’s quiet for a second. “I feel like you are.”

“Okay. Have fun feeling like that.” You open one of the cabinets to look for some medicine.

“See? You’re talking to me like you’re mad at me. What did I do?” All your patience leaves you at that. You don’t want to be doing this right now.

You place the pill bottle onto the counter with more force than necessary and turn around abruptly to face Beomgyu. “I’m hungover. I don’t want to talk. Take a hint.”

He blinks at you stupidly, and it just annoys you more. You scoff and turn your attention back to the medicine.

“Were you with Soobin?” he asks, breaking the ten seconds of peace and quiet he allowed you.

You groan. “Does it matter? I could have fucked Soobin last night and it still wouldn’t be any of your concern.”

“Did you fuck Soobin last night?” he asks urgently now that you planted the thought in his head. You swallow your pills in place of answering him. He holds onto your arm to stop you from leaving when you try to walk past him. “Did you??”

“What if I did? Do you think you have any right to tell me anything about it?” You didn’t, obviously, but at this point you’ll say anything to get him to stop talking.

His jaw clenches and he tightens his lips, but you don’t give a damn what displays of anger he gives you. He could pull his arm back and get ready to punch you and you still wouldn’t waver. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for his answer.

“I just—I don’t get—You’re not even…” He sure is having trouble finding his words. Some defense he’s got built up.

“Interesting.” You turn, ready to storm off to your room, but he stops you once again.

His hands stay clung to your shoulders, not even blinking as he turns you back toward him. “Please just tell me who you went out with.” He almost reeks of desperation.

You’re annoyed and you don’t owe him shit, so you don’t open your mouth to give him a response. You shrug with a straight face.

He whines and leans his head down onto your shoulder like you’ve just stabbed him in the gut. You roll your eyes. He always has to be the victim. You might just trudge to your room with him clinging onto you if he doesn’t give this up. You’ll get to your bed one way or another.

“What did I do? I’m so sorry. Why are you so mad at me?” he says, voice breaking like he’s holding back tears. He nuzzles further into your shoulder.

“Gyu, I swear, I’m just tired and my head hurts. You had nothing to do with this until five minutes ago. So please get off of me.” You push against him to try to pry him away, but he locks his arms around you. You sigh deeply, accepting his embrace because it’s not like you can run from it. You wait until enough time has passed where it’s safe for you to pull away without him freaking out.

“So you’re not mad at me?” he asks, giving you those sweet puppy eyes that you’d melt over any other time. Unfortunately, you’re still pissy and in need of rest, so you don’t coddle Beomgyu like you know he wants you to.

“No.” His lips tilt up just slightly at that. He wipes his eyes dramatically.

“Can I lay down with you then?” he asks, eyes carrying all his hope.

You shouldn’t, but you don’t want to deal with his moping if you don’t let him. “If you stay quiet and keep your distance.”

You’re already walking to your room when you hear him start complaining, “Keep my distance!?” You don’t stop to respond. Now that you have your sight on your bed, nothing could stop you from getting wrapped up in your blankets.

You fall against the mattress with a groan, smushing your head into your pillow. You register the bed dip next to you with Beomgyu’s weight, and you’re half-surprised that he allows you a respectable amount of space. A good five minutes pass in which you nearly fall asleep just listening to yours and Beomgyu’s breathing. Silence is always fleeting with Beomgyu, though, and it’s not long until he has to break it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop thinking about this. Did you seriously… sleep with Soobin?” Beomgyu asks in a quiet voice, words coming out hesitantly like he’s almost scared to ask.

You sigh, turning your head so you’re facing him instead of being buried in a pillow. You blink slowly, still wanting to fall asleep. He’s pouting and looks like he feels bad for even asking. Luckily for him, most of your annoyance evaporated from you the moment you laid down.

“No, I didn’t. It was just me and Chaewon,” you answer. You let your eyes flutter shut again, assuming the conversation would be over now.

Nope. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier then?” You contemplate pretending to be asleep so that you don’t have to respond anymore, but you feel his arm wrap around your waist and you have to shove it off. There goes that idea. “And why can’t I hold you anymore?” he asks.

“Because of what we talked about after the concert.” Your eyes are still closed, but you bet he does something sassy in response like roll his eyes or curl his lips down.

“Well I think that’s stupid,” he says. You open your eyes to make sure he sees it when you scowl at him.

“You’re free to leave my room if you don’t want to respect my rules.”

“Putting rules on our friendship is so ridiculous,” he argues. “We have literally always been touchy with each other. Soobin can go cry about it if he thinks there’s a problem with that. Why should we change for him?”

“It’s me who’s putting these rules down, he never told me to do anything. It’s not just because of him, either.” Your head threatens to start pounding again.

“What else would it be for?”

“Us? Do you not worry that we’ll go too far and never be able to go back?” you ask incredulously, like the reasoning should be obvious. He must not fear losing this friendship the way you do.

“No, because I know nothing could break the bond between us.”

“Hooking up does. Don’t you see how much we’ve changed already? For the worse?” He’d be blind to deny that much.

“Hooking up didn’t change us, Soobin did,” he counters. He’s not holding anything back, overflowing with audacity today.

“I would have told you to stop with or without Soobin in my life.” Because you actually care about preserving your friendship. You know that a lifetime of shared memories is better than twenty minutes of sexual gratification.

“And you think this time will be any different from the last hundred times? You keep saying this is going to end, and then it doesn’t.”

“But I mean it this time,” you say with full confidence.

“You say that every time.”

“Then how about you make it easier for me and stop trying to get with me? It might make things easier if you actually fucking respected it when I try to lay down boundaries.”

“Or you can just say no to me, unless I’m that irresistible,” he snides. Is he serious? Does he think you’ve never tried to say no?

“Fuck you.” You turn away from him, done with this conversation. He doesn’t leave your bed, but he does keep his distance. Either he’s pissed off now too, or you’ve finally convinced him to respect you. Your bet’s on the former.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You’re getting ready to go out, wanting to spend your Sunday with Soobin. You haven’t seen him in a while, and you feel like you need this to clarify things for yourself. You aren’t supposed to meet him until later today, but you’re planning on running some errands first, and you might as well get ready now so you don’t have to rush to do it later.

The sounds of you roaming around your room seem to beckon Beomgyu over. He walks up to you with a soft smile on his face. “Heading out?” he asks.

“I am,” you confirm. You stop struggling with the necklace you were trying to put on and hand it to Beomgyu instead. You might as well make use of his presence. “Can you put this on for me?” You pull your hair off your neck to make it easier for him.

He’s able to secure the clasp much faster than you. He pats your shoulder when you’re all set, and you put your hair back down.

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he speaks up again, “I’m sorry for arguing with you yesterday.” He looks bashful as the apology rolls off his tongue.

You weren’t expecting that. You guys don’t really apologize to each other over small arguments, you just move on. You turn to face him so he can see your honesty. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

He laughs. “I deserved it.”

You shake your head. “No you didn’t.”

You two smile at each other, and it’s times like this where life feels a little simpler. It’s surreal that you share your own little section of the world together, and that you still get to have these bonding moments years after meeting.

“I’m glad that I have you in my life,” you say. “Even when I’m hungover and annoyed at you.”

His response comes in the form of a giggle and a squeeze of your hand. You allow it, letting him be sentimental.

“Okay, I need to continue with my makeup now,” you say, pulling away to rummage through your products and find your eyelash curler. Beomgyu lingers behind you, just watching.

“This skirt is really cute,” Beomgyu says, pinching the fabric of it.

“Thanks, I thrifted it.” He hums and nods in response. A minute passes in which he silently observes you.

“You doll yourself up a lot when you go out with Soobin.” You slowly turn to face him, not understanding the point of his statement.

“Is that a problem?” you ask. You didn’t even tell him you were going out with Soobin.

“No. You look good.” You hum and pull out mascara from your vanity’s drawer. You lean forward as you apply it to your lashes, trying your best to ignore Beomgyu’s stare.

A part of you is admittedly confused that Beomgyu isn’t trying to stop you from leaving or fighting with you about seeing Soobin. Just now, he was actually the most collected you’ve ever seen him be when it comes to Soobin. You don’t want to jinx it, so you try to shift your thoughts somewhere else.

You and Soobin are going to the vintage market later, since you found out that you both share a love for vintage things. (For him, it’s old gaming systems and figurines, and for you, it’s clothes and home decor.) You’re thinking about trying to convince him to get dinner with you too, but that might be pushing your luck. You know he had some errands to run today too.

“Those are nice,” Beomgyu says. You don’t know what he means until you see in the mirror where he’s looking. You widen your eyes and straighten your posture immediately. Bent over the vanity like that, your panties were on full display under your skirt. And to think you were sharing a sentimental moment just a few minutes ago!

You scowl at him. “Thanks for staring, creep.” You shove your mascara back in the drawer.

“I’m sure Soobin would love them,” he says. You pause as you register his words. You’re not sure what his goal is, or why he suddenly switched up so much. You decide it’s best to not add fuel to the fire and just keep your mouth closed.

Beomgyu’s all fire though, and needs no fuel to keep going. “Your makeup’s really pretty too. You look like an angel.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask, voice full of suspicion. Even in his tone, you can hear his ulterior motives.

He comes closer to you with a grin, leaning his head on your shoulder and locking eyes with you in the mirror. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you feel a bit overwhelmed by his presence.

“I know you worked so hard getting pretty, but I don’t really think you should go out today… It’s windy, and you’ll be so, so cold in this…” He slowly pulls the thin strap of your top off your shoulder until it falls limp around your arm. His finger lightly traces the skin he revealed.

You’re not so curious what Beomgyu’s intentions are anymore. They’re pretty easy to guess now. “I’ll be fine,” you say.

He pouts, continuing to trace little swirls onto your skin. “You’ll get sick,” he adds.

“That’s not what you actually care about,” you say.

“I do though.” He places a kiss on your neck as if to show his earnestness.

“Beomgyu—no, this is too much.” You try pushing him off, but it’s as if he doesn’t feel your efforts at all. You give up after the second attempt.

“You should stay home with me so I don’t have to worry about you all day.” He stares at your side profile and brushes your hair back. He places another tender kiss on your neck, higher up this time. You try to fight any heat rising in your body from the action.

“Stop this,” you say, but it doesn’t sound so confident with how your voice shakes. You turn your head to look him in the eye. He just smiles up at you from where his head still leans on your shoulder. You hold back a gasp when his finger stops tracing lines on your skin and hooks under your bra strap instead, just barely starting to pull that aside too.

You’re so flustered by his finger slowly inching your bra strap down that you barely notice when his lips are back on your neck, attached to your pulse point like your heartbeat was calling for him.

“Y-you told me I could say no to you,” you remind him as his lips continue their slow descent down your neck.

“Yeah, if you actually meant it.” He places one last kiss to your skin, then props his head back on your shoulder to look into your eyes through the mirror. He smiles as if he likes what he finds; you must look as confused and malleable as you feel.

“You lied,” you say quietly, as if it’s a revelation to yourself and not a response to him.

“I didn’t. I’m just obsessed with pleasing you.” He runs his hands down your sides soothingly, then prompts you to bend with a gentle hand on your back.

“Beomgyu!” you squeak, fighting against the hand that beckons you down. You hold on tight to the edge of the vanity to keep your body up.

“Stop thinking. Let me take care of you.” His voice is so soft and coaxing, and you feel a sizable sense of shame hit you when arousal oozes from your cunt. An even greater amount of shame finds you when your arms shake and eventually give, letting Beomgyu ease you down until you’re bent over the vanity.

“We really can’t do this.” It might be too late to keep fighting, but you don’t want to suffer the consequences of this all over again.

“Shhh, baby,” he whispers as his hand travels down your back and settles on your hip, massaging the area.

Oh god. This is so bad. You’re supposed to be hanging out with Soobin in a few hours. You can’t do this right now.

“Gyu”—

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “Stop shaking, why are you so nervous?”

“I’m supposed to see Soobin today!” you squeak. He tsks.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop thinking?” A warm hand trails up your thigh. He doesn’t go under your skirt, he stays well enough away from your center, but something about his touch is still making your head spin. No one can make you lose reasonability like Beomgyu can.

You whine, and you don’t know if it’s out of defeat or out of need. You blink a tear from your eyes and follow Beomgyu’s advice: you stop thinking.

“Gyu…” You don’t even know what you’re calling him for. You hide your face in your arms so you don’t have to watch your reflection give up her fight.

“Yes, baby?” Your hips push out in search for his touch before you can stop yourself. Tears of shame pool in your eyes, and you're glad Beomgyu can’t see your face to coddle you for that. “You need something?”

You don’t respond. It’s embarrassing how bad you need his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. A part of you wishes he’d leave you here like this so you could take care of your needs yourself.

He flips your skirt up with a careful hand, and you keep as still as possible. You try not to even breathe too hard. “You’re wet,” he says. “Want me to help you?”

What’s the point of asking? He went this far already. “No,” you say, and half of the reason is just to test if he’ll do it anyway.

“But you need me,” he says, brushing your hair out of your face and turning your head to him with his fingers on your chin. He looks at you like you’re a deer caught in a bear trap, like he’s being merciful to offer his help. You feel powerless when he looks at you like that.

His pitiful stare just makes you blink more tears out of your eyes, and you’d hide your face if you could, but he insists on keeping your head tilted towards him. He coos when the wet trails reach your cheeks, bringing a thumb up to wipe your tears.

“Do you wanna feel better?” he asks, continuing to spoil you with tender touches. He grabs your hand and lifts it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. You feel every bit the deer caught in the trap—Beomgyu’s got you in his claws now.

“I don’t know,” you say, pouting up at him.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you. Just tell me when to stop…” The light press of his fingertip against your clothed core makes you sigh, tension melting from your body. You close your eyes, shutting off your brain and relaxing into the feeling.

“That’s right, it feels so good, doesn’t it?” He circles your clit, keeping his touch feather-light. Even that much drives you crazy and makes your legs tremble. “Can I take these off?” His finger moves from your clit to hook beneath the hem of your panties.

“Please,” you say. He kisses your shoulder blade in appreciation.

“What nice manners.” Your panties are slowly peeled off of you until they hit the floor. The cold air hits your wet folds, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Beomgyu utters as he stares at your pussy. He brings a hand down and starts rubbing your clit, leaving you a gasping and mewling mess already. “I missed this cunt. God, you haunted me. You tortured me.”

He attaches his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your shoulder. You cry out when his tongue meets your skin, licking and nipping at whatever skin he has access to. You clench around nothing, making more arousal drip out of you. Beomgyu coats his fingers in the slickness and continues drawing tight circles onto your clit.

“Beomgyu!” you yelp out when he speeds up. He places a parting peck onto your jaw before leaning away to look at your face. He smiles down at you.

“You need something inside that wet little cunt? Are you aching for my fingers?” His words make you feel lightheaded. You’re already having trouble thinking clearly, but now with that thought in your mind, you’re a goner.

“Yes, I need you!” He’s quick to give you what you want, sinking two fingers in with ease. You’re left crying and panting as he fucks his digits into you, filthy sounds filling the room.

“You’re so hot,” he praises, pulling your head up with his fist in your hair. You’re forced to stare at your own reflection, met with an image of you that looks so unfamiliar. Your mouth is hung open, spilling out moans and cries as Beomgyu’s fingers continue ramming into you. Your makeup is smudged and no longer suitable to go out in. The strap of your shirt and bra still hangs limp on your arm, and that side of your neck is coated in Beomgyu’s saliva.

“I look like a slut,” you say, pouting only for a second before your mouth is forced open again around a whine.

“You look beautiful.” His fingers curl into you, searching for the spot that will have your eyes rolling back. Your legs tremble when he finds it, and you have to rebalance yourself, clutching onto the vanity to keep yourself up.

“There! Oh, god, Gyu!” His mouth is back on your throat, hot and wet as he sucks and tastes and kisses. He nibbles on your jaw, then moves up to breathe into your ear.

“Let me fuck you, let me fill you up,” he whispers. You clench around his fingers at the thought. He stills inside you and you whine. “Baby.” He holds your face so you’ll look at him. He presses a quick kiss to your lips. You’re too far gone to complain. “You need more, right? You need my dick inside you?”

He curls his fingers inside you once more, and your back arches at the sensation. You try not to get too heady at the idea of him splitting you with his cock. That’s the one thing that absolutely cannot happen, so you can’t let yourself give in to that.

“Tell me, or else you won’t cum at all,” he says, rubbing his fingers inside you so perfectly it leaves your legs shaking.

“No, please!” you exclaim, panicked at the prospect of him leaving you on the edge. Your frantic hands are quick to play with your clit and squeeze your tits, trying to get yourself off while his fingers are still inside of you.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you today?” he asks, moving his fingers slower so you won’t cum. You pout and push your hips toward him, but a strong hand of his retaliates and keeps you still.

“We can’t,” you say. Immediately, he pulls his fingers out of you. He slaps your pussy, making you yelp and shut your legs. He pries them back open and slaps you again, harder this time. His fingers collect your wetness and tease your entrance, but never slip back inside.

“Did my slut already give it up to Soobin? Because that would really piss me off,” he says, staring meanly at you as he waits for your answer.

“No! We never did anything together,” you answer, the truth leaving you easily when you’re so desperate for his touch. He huffs out a laugh.

“That’s right. You know you’re mine.” He’s so pleased that he decides to relieve some of your need, rubbing your clit. “No one else would be able to touch you like me. Tell me how I ruined you for any other man,” he prompts.

He pulls his fingers off of you and pushes his pants down, whipping his dick out and stroking it as he looks down at you. He taps your clit with the head of his cock and bites back a grin when you mewl at the action. He thrusts against your pussy, letting his length slide between your folds.

You have to cling onto reality and keep yourself from slipping into a brainless haze. It’s hard to do when his cock feels so girthy and hot against you. He would stretch you so nicely. Your cunt oozes at the thought.

“Say it,” Beomgyu demands, grabbing your face again so you’ll make eye contact with him. He leans over your body to do so, and you feel completely surrounded by him. His stare is hard and demanding. Your eyes bug out when you feel him press his tip against your entrance, pushing with just the slightest bit of pressure, but not quite sliding in. “Say it or I’ll fuck the words out of you.”

That scares you into compliance. “You ruined me for anyone else! Only you can make me cum! I only want your cock!” you chant thoughtlessly.

He laughs and smooths his hands down your body, resting them on your waist. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” He’s so condescending, but it makes you drip like crazy. He goes back to thrusting against your pussy, making you sigh in relief.

Beomgyu runs a hand under your shirt, squeezing your tits. Your back arches when he twists and pulls at your nipples while continuing to slide his cock through your folds. He takes his dick and starts swiping his tip over your clit rapidly, watching you spasm at the sensation with a grin. Your hole continues to flutter, aching to be stuffed with his cock. Unfortunately, Beomgyu takes notice of that.

“You need that hole filled, baby? Need to be nice and stretched?” He brings his tip back to your entrance. He circles around it teasingly, making you whine. You can’t let him fuck you. You need to keep at least that much from him.

“Don’t,” you plead, getting more antsy the longer he stays at your entrance.

“Don’t?” he repeats, but doesn’t move away.

“Please don’t!” you cry, unwilling to let him go that far. He finally relents.

“Then you’ll cum like this,” he huffs and goes back to stimulating your clit with the head of his cock. You moan out, pushing your hips down to feel him pressed against you more. Your mouth is dropped open in pleasure, eyes shutting as you focus on the feeling. Your legs shake and try to close, but Beomgyu urges them back open with his hand on your thigh.

You can’t form any coherent sentences, stuttering out a garbled mess of words that tells Beomgyu you’re right there. “Let go, baby, be good and cum for me,” he says, and your body obeys. You spasm everywhere as your orgasm takes over, breathing out in sweet relief. He’s moaning behind you, movements getting shakier as his release finds him.

Beomgyu pulls away so his cum lands on your ass, but his fingers play with your pussy to help you come down. Your legs clamp shut when it gets too much, and he takes that as a sign to stop. The sound of you and Beomgyu panting fills the room as you recover from your highs.

“Fuck, I wish I could take a picture of this,” Beomgyu says, staring at your ass painted with his seed. You can’t even think of a smart reply to that, still trying to get your breathing back to normal.

Beomgyu takes off his shirt to wipe you down with it. You’re glad he still has the mind to take care of you. You cringe when you feel him try to put your soiled panties back onto you. “Stop, I’ll just get a new pair,” you say, kicking his hands away.

You stand up and stretch, trying to avoid looking at your reflection as much as possible. You grab your phone to check the time. What catches your sight instead is a text notification from Soobin, and suddenly you feel sick. Beomgyu smirks when his eyes land on your screen. “You still going out with him today?”

You almost feel like you could cry. Was this his plan all along? You put your phone back down, unable to stand the guilt.

He wins again. “No, I’m not.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Your life recently has just been a continuous cycle of proving that you can, indeed, stoop even lower. You’re so confused how you even got to this point. Your fairytale relationship was lined up for you, it was supposed to be easy to stop whatever you’re doing with Beomgyu and make Soobin your boyfriend.

Things are more complicated and confusing than ever, a precedent you continuously find yourself in. You can’t grow accustomed to this. You’ll go crazy before you ever figure out why Beomgyu won’t quit. What is the root of his insecurity? Why is he so threatened by the idea of you having a boyfriend? You’ve already told him you won’t leave him.

When you notice that Beomgyu’s not home when you get back from work, you decide to invite Chaewon over to keep you company. You don’t feel like being alone with your thoughts right now.

She’s there in a heartbeat, and the two of you are quick to settle on the couch and watch a bit of the show she’s currently binging. You’re only half an episode in when you stop paying attention and start talking to Chaewon about life instead. It doesn’t take long for Chaewon to land on the million dollar question.

“Alright, this has been killing me since we went to the bar. What happened with Soobin?” Chaewon asks.

You want to punch yourself. This is so embarrassing. “Well…”

“I swear, if you…” she starts, and you know what she’s thinking.

“I did.” You get a hard smack on the arm for that. You deserved it, honestly.

“You fucked Beomgyu?!”

“He didn’t stick it in, but we did basically everything else,” you admit.

“Why?” she asks. “Everything was going so well.”

“I don’t know. Because I’m stupid. I tried to say no, but you know him.”

She looks a little horrified to hear that. “What?”

You scramble to explain, not wanting her to get the wrong idea, “I mean, like, I gave in and let myself enjoy it because he wasn’t stopping anyway.”

“Do you even know how concerning that sounds?” Chaewon asks, looking genuinely worried for you. “Seriously, are you okay?” She runs a hand down your arm to comfort you.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” Her eyes have lost all their hardness and accusation, and she looks at you with only pity now.

“How’d this happen? Give me the timeline,” Chaewon says, and you sigh as you try to recollect the whole story.

“I actually initiated it the first time we hooked up again,” you explain with a sense of shame. “I was angry, and he kept insisting that I hate him, so I kissed him. Then it went further.”

“I hate him,” Chaewon says with a bitter laugh. You frown, so she continues, “I do. I can’t stand him anymore. He knew he was cornering you when he said that shit.”

“Well, it worked. It keeps working. I tried again to stop after that, which is when he told me I should just say no and”—

“What the hell?” Chaewon interrupts, appalled. “As if you haven’t been saying no in a million different ways!”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” You shake your head and shrug defeatedly. “So the next time he tries to initiate something, I say no, and he doesn’t listen because he said he could tell I didn’t mean it.”

Chaewon’s jaw is dropped open. It takes a few seconds for her to get a response out. “I really hate him. I’m fuming for you.”

“Well, I didn’t tell him to stop once he really started touching me. I don’t know why. He told me to tell him when to stop, and I just… didn’t.”

“He needs to get it together. You need to give him an ultimatum.” The drastic measures make your heart pound. Beomgyu would lose it.

“I can’t,” you say. “Even if I did, he’d find a way around it again.”

“Stop giving him so much power over you. You need to detox yourself clean of him.” She says that like he’s some bacteria you can just flush out. He’s more like a parasite taking control of your whole being.

“But I live with him,” you reason.

“Then stay at mine. As long as you’re here with him, he’s going to keep doing this. He’s been messing with your head and ruining your life on purpose. It’s such bullshit. He’ll never take no for an answer,” Chaewon spits.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” You snap your head over to where the voice came from. Fuck. Beomgyu came home.

Your heart stops. You hold your breath, staring at him with wide eyes. What do you say? There’s no excuse that could get you out of this situation.

Chaewon on the other hand doesn’t seem scared at all—she seems furious. “You,” she answers, unphased at his attempt to intimidate her.

She rises from the couch and approaches him with quick footsteps. You get scared for a second that she might hit him, so you follow her quickly. She stops in front of Beomgyu, and you stand back, observing the scene with your nerves on edge. Beomgyu doesn’t back down, staring daggers into her.

“Beomgyu, you are the most disgusting excuse for a friend in the world,” Chaewon snaps. She pokes a finger against his chest to make her point. “I can only pray that karma gets you one day and makes you see what a piece of shit you are.”

Beomgyu looks at you while pointing at Chaewon. “You’re just gonna let her talk to me like this? Did you even tell her the full story?”

You see red at his accusation. “I told her everything, matter of fact.”

“Yeah? Then she should know that you’re just as much to blame as I am,” he says, walking away from Chaewon and towards you. “I can’t believe you’ve been shit-talking me with your friends for things you chose to do with me.”

Chaewon chimes in, “How much of a choice does she have if you’re bugging her nonstop until she gives in? Crying, fighting, begging. If you were fucking normal she’d already be with Soobin by now.”

Beomgyu doesn’t turn to look at Chaewon as she speaks, so his face is still close to yours as he takes in her words. He doesn’t look remorseful at all. He just looks pissed.

“You can leave, Chaewon,” he says, voice dripping with venom. He looks you in the eye even as he says that. It sends a chill down your spine.

Chaewon grabs your wrist and pulls you a few steps away from Beomgyu. “Come sleep at mine tonight,” she urges you. “You don’t deserve to hear whatever shit he’s gonna put you through.”

“Fuck that,” Beomgyu says. “Get out of my house.” He points to the door. You’re shocked at the slight raise in his voice. He’s never done that before.

Chaewon looks at you, waiting for you to say something. You feel like the smallest person alive because you can’t bring yourself to accept her offer. It would only strain your relationship with Beomgyu more.

“Don’t be mad at me, Chaewon,” you plead, even though that’s probably too much to ask for. But she’s Chaewon, and she carries all the understanding she’s ever had, so she doesn’t get mad at all.

She squeezes your hand. “Be smart,” she says, then wraps her arms around you for a tight hug. “Text me if you need anything,” she whispers in your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in hers. She pulls away and pats your hair down, looking sympathetic.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says, heading towards the door.

“See you.” You can’t bring yourself to sound happy or excited as you watch her leave. It feels like your life force has been drained out of you, and yet you’re nowhere near done with the arguments tonight. You turn to Beomgyu, already expecting it.

“Please don’t listen to her,” he says. You blink up at him, confused. He’s not going to get mad at you? “I don’t know what she’s telling you, but don’t listen to it.”

You don’t have it in you to fight him right now. “I just chose you again, Beomgyu, even if I shouldn’t have. That should tell you everything.” It’s the last thing you say before heading off to your room. You don’t think your pout leaves your face all night.

Time and time again, you prove you can’t change. You can’t prioritize anything over Beomgyu, not even yourself. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.

You want to believe you can grow as a person, but it’s so impossible when Beomgyu insists on bringing you back to square one every chance he gets. Chaewon’s offer rings in your head, telling you there is a way out. You could stay with her and leave behind all the mess that comes with being here.

Your eyes water. If only you weren’t so weak. You can’t imagine how that life would be better than one with Beomgyu in it. You can’t abandon him; for both his sake and your own, it’s better if you stay. You just have to get used to this being your new life.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Somehow, Beomgyu becomes the only person you don’t feel guilty being around. When you’re with Soobin, you feel guilty for what you’ve done with Beomgyu. When you’re with Chaewon, you feel guilty for not taking her advice and controlling your life more. With Beomgyu, you don’t have to feel guilty, as long as you don’t let yourself think too hard.

You end up spending most of your free time cooped up in his room. It’s better than being alone—your thoughts might send you spiraling if you’re left to deal with them on your own. If making you codependent was Beomgyu’s goal, it looks like he’s succeeding.

You let Beomgyu hold you in his bed, you let him wipe the tears off your face, you let him comfort you with peppered kisses all over your skin and honey coated words whispered into your ear. You let him do whatever he wants because it’s better than fighting with him and breaking yourself down even more.

You open your phone to see you’ve got a text from Soobin.

[Soobin] Are you free today?

Well, technically you are…

You look over at Beomgyu, still caught up in his game. You think of spending time with Soobin, lounging in some restaurant or walking across the city. It’s nice, but any of that niceness is crushed when you think of telling Beomgyu that you’re going out with Soobin. You think of his petty arguments, of the tricks he has up his sleeve, of all the right words he knows just when to say to keep things going his way. You’ve had such a shit week that you just don’t feel like ruining your weekend like that.

You send your response.

I’m not :(

You shut off your phone and lay it against your chest. You feel like you’re becoming an awful person. A few minutes later, Beomgyu cheers and claps at his screen, pushing his chair out a bit and looking back at you.

“Come look at this,” he says. You wrap a blanket around yourself as you trudge over to his desk. He points to each statistic and explains how awesome and amazing they are, looking to you for validation.

“Super cool.” You nod and try to pull an impressed look, but he can always see through your bullshit.

“Why do you sound like that? What happened?” he asks. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Curse him and his stupid ability to read your mind.

You sigh. “I just feel like I’m always lying to Soobin recently.”

Beomgyu, ever the asshole, just smiles at that. “Why?”

“He asked if I was free today and I said no,” you explain.

“Well that’s right. You’re hanging out with me.”

“But we don’t really have plans. We hang out like this every day.” You don’t fight it when he pulls you into his lap. You relax into him.

“Just stop dragging him along. This is going nowhere.”

“It could, though,” you say.

“It couldn’t,” Beomgyu denies with complete certainty. He runs his fingers through your hair when you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. You would make sure of it,” you say, defeated.

“Don’t act so innocent.” His voice is soft even when he says that.

“I was so set on him. You never liked me like this until you found out about him,” you say, equally as soft, no real fight in you.

“I always liked you like this.”

“No. You never acted like this.”

“I was scared of losing you to him, so I had to act like this,” he defends.

“It makes me feel crazy. Makes me feel like a bad person.”

He hums, still comforting you with his hand in your hair and an arm around your waist. He pulls you up just a bit to position you so that you’re face-to-face with him. The blanket falls off of you and onto the floor behind you. He coos when he sees your teary eyes, cupping your face.

“You’re right, I would make sure of it. I’d never let you get into a relationship,” he admits. His voice drips with gentleness, and it’s smooth as ever, but you don’t feel soothed by it. You back up when his face gets a little too close to yours.

“What if I only want to be friends?” you question.

“Then just be my friend. Don’t be his girlfriend, though,” he pleads. “Would you really hurt me like that?”

“I can’t be his friend?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

A little fire of rage is starting to burn inside you at his possessiveness. It’s like he can sense it, and he’s trying to calm it down, gently rubbing his hands down your thighs.

“Don’t touch me like that,” you demand. He moves his hands to rest on your hips instead. “Don’t touch me at all.”

He pries his hands off of you and holds them behind his head. You feel yourself getting pissed off, but for some reason you don’t make a move to get off his lap.

“Why do you treat me like this?” you ask harshly.

“Cause I’m in love with you,” he answers like he can’t hold it back anymore. Your heart stops and your eyes shoot to his own in shock. He’s looking at you with all the honesty he’s ever had. “So forgive me if I can’t stand you being with someone else.”

You open your mouth, but you have no clue what to say, so you just shut it and stare at him, dumbfounded. It takes a few seconds for rationality to hit you and urge you up and away from him. He stands up as soon as you do, holding onto your wrist.

“No, don’t go,” he begs, lacing your hands together. You lean your head into his chest and cry out in confusion. What are you supposed to do?! God, a part of you wishes you’d never even met Soobin now. If you knew it would come to this, you’d have never stepped foot in that library. It’s just not worth it. You don’t even know how you feel right now.

“What the fuck Beomgyu!” you yell as you burst into tears. Everything is ruined. You can’t be with Soobin. You can’t be with anyone. You can’t have your old dynamic with Beomgyu back. Nothing will be the same.

Beomgyu hugs you, swaying you comfortingly and slowly. You hear him sniffle. He doesn’t deserve to be crying right now. What reason does he have to cry? Everything has gone his way.

You drop to the floor and hold your face in your hands, crying into your palms. He sits in front of you and pushes your hands down, brushing your hair back. His eyes are red from his tears too, but he’s tending to you. Your stomach twists. You don’t know what to think. A guttural sob leaves you.

“Maybe this city isn’t right for you. Let’s move away,” Beomgyu offers, trying a new approach.

“Like you know what’s right for me,” you mock.

“I do,” he asserts.

“You don’t.”

“Just stop with this. Do you not love me?” he asks, angry and serious. You don’t respond. He calls your name. You look away from him.

You don’t know. Somewhere in this whole mess, you’ve lost your perception of what you feel for who. You don’t respond because you have no answer.

He whines and hangs his head, clutching his chest like you’ve just stabbed him in the heart. Always the drama queen. You feel yourself calming down a little as you see it. At least you’re not the only one breaking down now.

“You want to be with him that bad?” he asks. He looks at you with pathetic eyes, tears falling from them pitifully. You feel nothing.

He grabs you by the shoulders with urgency and desperation. You have no more fight in you, so you let it happen. He picks you up and sits you on the edge of his bed. He stands over you, holding your head up so your eyes meet. He frantically searches for something in them. You’re not sure what.

“Can you talk to me?” he requests. “At least give me that much?” He pulls your mouth open with his thumb, staring at it like he’s waiting for something to come out. You don’t know what possesses you, but you feel broken enough to not question it when you take his thumb in your mouth and suck. Perhaps you’re just used to turning to sex in the midst of heated moments now. He pulls it out and stares at you funny.

“What?” you ask. He gives a sigh of relief, and you realize it’s because you finally said something.

“We gotta talk about this,” he says.

What’s there to talk about? He told you what your whole life is going to look like anyway. You don’t even want to think about it anymore.

“Let me sleep,” you whisper. Your head is pounding.

“Okay,” he agrees, laying you back on his mattress, adjusting the pillow beneath your head. You shut your eyes. He tucks you in neatly, making sure you’re extra comfortable. He uses gentle fingers to tuck your hair out of your face. You feel his presence stick beside you like a guard dog until you fall asleep.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You wake up with a clearer head. The room is dark, you must have slept your way into the night. You remember everything that happened and your eyes shoot open. Beomgyu’s sleeping soundly next to you. He has you right up against him, like he knew you’d try to run away as soon as you woke up. You realize that that’s what you should be doing right now.

You remember you left your phone on the bed somewhere. You feel around for it, more frantically the longer it takes, but you come up empty. A part of you wonders if Beomgyu took it. You shake the thought. He wouldn’t. You despise your mind for trying to paint your best friend as evil.

He can’t help how he feels, right? If he scared you or hurt you, he didn’t mean it. If he’s serious when he says he loves you, then he wouldn’t want to hurt you. You feel sick as you think it over. You probably shouldn’t run away. Where would you even go?

An idea pops into your mind, but you need your phone first.

Gathering your courage, you slip from Beomgyu’s grasp and get out of bed, causing as little commotion as you can. You scan the room with just your eyes, seeing if you can find your phone. You contain the urge to groan when you don’t see it anywhere. You bend down to check under the bed. Nothing.

You startle when you rise up and see Beomgyu looking at you. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m just looking for my phone.” You sound so meek and unnatural in your own ears. You sound scared of him.

“Oh.” He eases back into the bed. You didn’t realize how tense he got. Strange.

You look at him speculatively. “Do you… know where my phone is?”

He furrows his brows. “Are you accusing me right now?”

Yes. “No.” It’s so much harder to rationalize the situation when you’re talking to Beomgyu. He’s quiet for a minute, and it unnerves you. You wonder what he’s thinking.

You watch him closely as he reaches for something on his nightstand. It’s his phone. He taps around on it, and you have no clue what he’s doing until you hear it ring. He’s calling you.

The vibration of your phone is muffled, but present. Beomgyu looks to his side and lifts your pillow, revealing your phone. He hangs up the call from his end. You grab your phone, feeling guilty now.

“Now you can stop looking at me like I’m some psychopath,” he murmurs off-handedly. It stings your heart.

“I’m sorry.”

He sits up and stares at you, then lets out a heavy sigh. His eyes look puffy now from all his crying before, and you figure he must not have slept much. You wonder if he stayed up crying while you slept in his arms.

“I’m sorry too,” he says. You appreciate that, because he’s got a lot to be sorry for. “I got scared and it made me act crazy.”

So you’re finally having this conversation. Your heart rate picks up.

“You did. I guess I did too,” you say. You remember how you broke down. You remember everything he said. “Did you mean it all?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a second. “I meant it when I said I loved you.”

“And when you said you’d never let me have a relationship?” you push. He looks like you just kicked him, and he bites down his response. You remember what Chaewon said about him doing that, how he only does it because he knows you’re weak for him. Not this time. Fuck that. “Talk to me now, Beomgyu. I’ll walk out of your life forever if you don’t.”

He rushes to respond now, eyes wide with urgency. “I don’t know, I’m just desperate, and—and I need you.” He stands up, but doesn’t dare get too close to you. His hands are held together in prayer. “Don’t walk away. I’ll control myself now. Please stay. Who else do I have?”

You take a deep breath, trying to not let his words hit you too hard. You need to keep a clear mind. If your heart starts getting soft, you’ll lose to him again.

“I want you to never meddle in my love life again,” you say, speaking as clearly and confidently as you can.

“But I”—

“Never again. No excuses. Let me be.”

“But I love you!” Beomgyu cries, desperate to keep you to himself.

“Stop,” you insist, locking up the iron gates that protect your weak heart. You can’t let him get through.

“I love you, I love you, I love you! You can’t do this to me!”

You feel him slicing away at the bars guarding your heart. You have to get out of here before he breaks you down again.

“I’m staying at Chaewon’s tonight. If you try to contact me while I’m gone, you’ll never see me again. Give me space.” You fear your sanity might slip from you if you take too long to head out the door.

He drops to his knees as a sob escapes him. Unintelligible pleading escapes his lips, but you can’t allow it into your mind. If you stay here a second longer, he’s going to find your soft spots and attack. Adrenaline forces you to start moving.

You leave the room, leave the apartment, but you still hear his cries. They echo in your mind and torture you as your feet take you to Chaewon’s house. You move as fast as you can, desperate to clear your head, but Beomgyu proves himself again to be a parasite, a stain you can never wash off.

Chaewon’s eyes widen when she sees you. You must look as rough as you feel. “What happened?” she asks, ushering you to her couch. She wipes your cheeks, brushing away tears you didn’t even know were there.

“Beomgyu loves me.” You choke on a sob, leaning forward until your head is buried in Chaewon’s chest, wrapping your arms around her body. You’re glad you don’t have to beg her to comfort you—she’s quick to pat your hair down and hold you while you let it all out.

“Honey, it’s okay,” she soothes. You’re soaking her shirt with your tears, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“No, everything has changed. Nothing’s okay.” Chaewon picks your head up at that, cupping your face so you’ll look her in the eyes. You sniffle back your tears, suddenly embarrassed by them when she’s looking at you so intensely.

“You will be okay. I promise you.” She sounds so sure of it that you have no choice but to believe her. You nod, and she looks pleased at that. Once she releases you from her hold, you wipe the wetness from your face. You feel yourself calming down.

“Thank you,” you say. Even if all you want to do in the moment is wallow in your own self-pity, you can’t let that be the rest of your life. Once you feel confident you won’t start crying again, you tell Chaewon everything that happened with Beomgyu. She’s quiet the whole time, nodding as you explain the whole ordeal. You don’t have it in you to joke about it right now, and you appreciate that she doesn’t try to either.

“Well, how do you feel? Do you love Beomgyu?” she asks.

You sigh. This is a loaded question. “I’m not in love with him, but I do love him. Even after everything he did, I still love him. I probably always will.”

Chaewon nods slowly and hums in acknowledgement. She takes a minute to ask her next question. “What about Soobin?”

You pout as you ponder it. When you think about being with Soobin now, it’s not heart fluttering anymore. Beomgyu ruined that for you. Maybe Beomgyu ruined any man for you. You can’t imagine talking to another guy, now—not for a while, anyway.

“I’m not in love with him either. I don’t know how I feel now,” you answer honestly.

You get another cryptic hum from Chaewon at that. “I think you should see Soobin tomorrow and see if that clears things up.”

Tomorrow? That’s so soon. You need time to recover from today. The thought of meeting up with Soobin fills you with some sort of dread and fear.

“I don’t know if I can ever see him again,” you admit.

It’s too late for you to come back from this. The damage is irreparable. Beomgyu has carved his name into you, and you can scratch it away all you want, but the slate will never be clean again. You’ll always be marred.

“See him one more time,” Chaewon insists. “Don’t give up yet.” You feel a little bit of life leave you as you sigh. You’re not the fighter that Chaewon wants you to be. You’ve tried so hard, but it never worked.

She puts a hand on your shoulder and continues, “Text him. Ask him to go out with you tomorrow. You can still make this work.” She picks up your phone and puts it in your hand.

You look into her eyes. She has enough hope in them to encourage you to unlock your phone and go to Soobin’s messages. You stare at your texts from earlier, regretting how you didn’t just accept his offer to hang out. You wonder how differently your day would have gone.

You take a deep breath and look at Chaewon for reassurance. Her smile gives you the courage to send something over.

If you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to go out

You doubt he’s awake right now since it’s so late, but you’ll settle with seeing his response in the morning. Chaewon encourages you to get some rest, and you think half of the reason is because she’s tired too, but you don’t argue. If you’re seeing Soobin tomorrow, you’ll need as much rest as you can get tonight. You’ll sleep away the pain and open your heart up to whatever comes with Soobin tomorrow.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You do your best to not think about Beomgyu at all as soon as you meet up with Soobin. You want to enjoy your day, and you’ll be damned if you don’t at least try. You’ve put up with so much, you need a break. A day out with Soobin could offer you that solace.

It’s colder by the lake that you walk along the edge of, but the sight is so nice that you don’t mind it. Being outside is helping you feel better, too. The lake is still mostly ice, with fresh snow piled on top of it.

“I’m glad we get to spend time together today,” Soobin says, walking slower until he comes to a stop. He looks angelic even with his nose red from the cold.

“Me too,” you say. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure you were busy.” You can’t look him in the eye when he says that, it hurts too much. You weren’t nearly as busy as he thinks you were. Your mind was preoccupied with someone else.

“How has work been?” You almost cringe at how surface level the question feels. You’ve been past the small talk stage for a while now, but you’re having trouble thinking of what else to talk about. It’s not like you can talk about your own life as of recent.

“It’s been okay. I miss you sometimes when I’m working in the library,” he says. Your heart should flutter at that. You should feel weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach. Instead, you feel something inside you shrivel up. You push past the feeling, still determined to try to save this.

“I wish I went over more.” You wish you did a lot of things different.

“You still can,” he says, hopeful. You pray that he’s oblivious to your uncertainty. You smile at him, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels.

“I can,” you agree. A beat of silence follows. You look out to the frozen lake. In the summer, this place is alive with the sound of birds chirping and people laughing. It’s quite different now. You look at the barren trees and strain your ears for any noise.

You don’t usually hate winter, but this year it feels eternal. You’re dying for the snow to start melting and to feel the sun again. The sight of flowers in bloom, of leaves returning to trees, is something you find yourself craving more than ever.

“Do you like the snow?” you ask, turning to Soobin.

“I love it. It makes everything look brighter.” You nod, looking back out to the world. The sunlight reflects off the stretch of snow, and you suppose it does look brighter like this. A gust of wind sends snow blowing at the two of you. You flinch, and he laughs.

“Have you ever gone skiing?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I went snowboarding with Beomgyu once, but I hated it. I had so many bruises the next day.” You laugh a little at the memory.

“I’ve been waiting to hear that,” Soobin says. You look at him in confusion. “Your laugh,” he clarifies.

“Oh.” You feel your face heat up.

“I love skiing, even though I’m not great at it. You should try. I know a great place. We can fall and get matching bruises,” he says, grinning. It puts a smile on your face, and you don’t have to force it this time.

“I don’t know if I can take up that offer,” you say.

Soobin nods. “That’s okay.”

It goes quiet again after that. Silence doesn’t bother you normally, but it feels deeper than usual when there’s nothing going on around you. You sway on your feet, kicking awkwardly at the snow.

“Are you alright? You’re never this quiet,” Soobin notes. You sigh. You couldn’t even begin to explain how you feel to him.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry I’m such a bore today,” you apologize, wanting to shrink into yourself.

“I’m never bored of you. Tell me what’s going on,” he prompts, looking at you attentively. You’re flattered at how he shows his care for you.

You stare at him for a long second, wondering how much would be acceptable to spill. “It’s just Beomgyu.”

Soobin laughs for a second at that. “That’s not the first time I heard that sentence.” He doesn’t look upset or bitter, but it still makes you feel bad. Even if he’s joking, it’s true that you keep bringing Beomgyu up around him.

“I don’t know what to do about him anymore.” You wish you had the guts to say more, but you’re a coward.

Soobin takes a while to respond to that, so long that you think he might just drop the conversation. His smile has shrunk, and you fear that he’s finally putting the pieces together. “You do what feels right,” he advises.

You swallow, trying to calm your nerves. “How do I know what’s right?” Your brows are upturned, lips pouted as you struggle to draw a conclusion. His eyes trail down your face like he’s assessing you.

“Your heart will tell you.” He has no clue the torment your heart’s been through. The poor thing is too weak to make any decisions. Following it will lead you nowhere.

You shake your head. “No it won’t.”

He sighs, and that’s when you know he’s caught onto your dilemma. “You already know what your heart wants. You’re just ignoring it.”

His words strike you with panic. You search his eyes to try to find the answer he’s come to. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“I just feel like…” Soobin starts. You hang onto his words as he struggles to finish his thought. “You’re always thinking of him.”

Your heart sinks. It feels like the world has gone weak, and everything around you is ready to collapse. Can you even deny what he said? You open your mouth to try, but any noise struggles to come out.

“So, can I ask you something?” he continues.

You nod. This moment feels so delicate and fragile, you’re scared of breaking it. Your voice comes out in a whisper when you respond, “Yes.”

“Did you like me at all?” His eyes dart between yours.

You hate this so much. You can’t protect your pride. Guilt spills out from the pit of your stomach and sickens you. Have you turned into something vile? Have you hurt Soobin so much?

“Of course I did. You’re wonderful,” you answer honestly. He wipes a tear from your cheek when it falls from your eye.

“And now?” He keeps his hand on your face. You can't stand his kindness. The knife twists further.

“I don’t know. Beomgyu—he…” You don’t even know where to go with that sentence.

“He fell for you?” he fills in. “I can see why.” He brushes your hair back. Even now, his smile is pure and soft.

“Soobin…” You’re stuck with the most impossible dilemma. A selfish part of you begs to keep Soobin around. The butterflies he summons still come back to life at times like these. You’ll never have to question his sanity. What bloomed between you was innocent and untarnished until Beomgyu dug his claws into you.

The other half of you tells you to stop torturing everyone. Yourself, Soobin, Beomgyu—you all suffer the longer you remain on the fence. You can’t have both men in your life, and you know that you’re not going to give up Beomgyu so easily. You just wish you could figure something out.

“I know your choice,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. How? How can he know so clearly when not even you do?

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips. The most gentle kiss you’ve ever felt is placed delicately onto it. You blink up at him. It’s almost like you can already see him flickering away.

He’s letting you go.

You feel the moment melting. You feel the world slowly coming back to life around you, and you want to ask it for one more minute. One more minute, where you and Soobin can be the only two people that exist. He’s putting your hand down, he’s releasing his hold, he’s getting ready to go. You know better than to cry and beg for him now. This is what has to happen.

“Do you know your way home from here?” he asks.

You’re crushed, but you don’t show it. “Yes.”

He steps back. “I’m glad I knew you. You’re the best thing this city has to offer.”

“That’s not true.” There is nothing more cursed in this city than you.

He smiles at you. It’s the last time you’ll ever see it. “It is. I hope he helps you see that.”

That’s the last thing he says to you before he leaves for good. You watch him walk away. Your feet don’t itch to run for him. Your hands don’t yearn to tug him back. The only thing you want now is to see your best friend.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You try to control the way your body shakes as you stand in front of the door. You need to get yourself together. You steady your breathing. Your fist meets the door to knock on it gently, like you’re unsure if you actually want to go in or not.

You’re glad you ran out of tears already. It would be quite embarrassing for Chaewon to open the door to you crying for the second day in a row.

She assesses you with a frown. “It didn’t go well, did it?”

There’s no need to sugar coat it. “It’s over.”

Chaewon’s lips part in surprise. She’s quiet, and for the first time, it seems like she doesn’t know what to say. You walk to her room without a word, and she follows just as silently. You take your usual spots on her bed, and you try to make yourself feel something. You just come up empty.

“Are you okay?” Chaewon asks, breaking the silence hesitantly.

“I guess,” you answer. You didn’t expect Soobin to let you go. Selfishly, you thought he would never leave you. Chaewon sighs heavily, but you don’t dare to look at her right now. Whether it’s disappointment or sadness on her face, you don’t want to know.

Karma must be real. This was always bound to happen, you realize. This is some cosmic joke, some lesson from the universe to tell you what happens when you let control slip out of your hands. You dug your own grave. Soobin was always going to leave you.

A pang in your chest strikes you when you think of the beginning. Soobin’s shy introduction at the library, his giggles at your flirtations, his eagerness to keep you talking. Everything was so light and easy. You could’ve sworn there was an invisible string connecting you.

“I’m sorry. It’s killing me that I can’t do anything for you,” Chaewon says, and you finally look at her. Her eyes are brimming with tears, lips quivering in an effort to not cry. You frown and hold her hand.

“You’ve done everything for me,” you correct. If it weren’t for all her talks with you in the past couple months, you would have gone crazy long ago. You’d be caught between Beomgyu’s teeth. Now you’re here, sulking over Soobin with her, instead of going home to your other best friend. “You helped me more than you think.”

Chaewon gives you a small smile as a tear falls from her eye. Her hand squeezes yours, and it makes you genuinely smile for a second. “I’m always here for you,” she says.

“Same here, for anything.” She scooches closer to you, and you rest your head on her shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” You ponder her question for a minute, trying to match a label to your inner turmoil.

You sigh, “Numb.”

She hums. “What are you thinking about?” That question brings the pang in your chest back. You can do nothing but succumb to the defeat and hopelessness of it all.

“We never even kissed.” You stare into nothingness as you meddle with the fact. It’s a stupid thing to be upset about, but you feel like you had your one shot at romance ripped away from you. Who can you blame besides yourself?

You could’ve had innocent, pure love. You could’ve had sweet kisses and interlocked hands and a hundred cute little dates, but you traded it all for anger-laced intimacy, endless confusion, and nights ending in tears. You’re a fool.

Chaewon looks at you with such pity that it makes your stomach twist. You must seem so pathetic right now. A part of you wishes you’d run off to Beomgyu instead. He would’ve pampered you, made you forget about Soobin if only for a moment. You know you were right to see Chaewon instead, though. You’ve made enough dumb decisions with your life. You’re sick of destroying everything because you can’t let go of Beomgyu.

Chaewon seems to be thinking the same thing. “I can’t stop thinking about where you’d be now if Beomgyu never brought himself into this.”

You tighten your lips, not knowing what to say. You don’t want to think about it at all. “Yeah.”

She turns to you fully, looking more serious now. “You’re not going back to Beomgyu again. Don’t let him get away with this,” she says.

It’s not that easy. What does she expect you to do instead? Ignore him, drop him now that it’s already too late? You’d gain nothing from that at this point.

“It’s useless,” you say. She takes both your hands in hers, holding them over her heart and looking into your eyes.

“I care about you too much to watch you spiral like this. Stay with me. I’ll help you bring your things here.” She looks at you with pleading eyes. Your heartbeat races. The choice is yours.

“I can’t burden you like that,” you say, shaking your head.

“It would burden me more to know you’re letting Beomgyu win again,” she insists. You exhale shakily, trying to stop your thoughts from flying by so fast. You need a clearer mind to be able to make this decision.

“I need to think about it.” Chaewon nods, always understanding of you.

“Just let me know. I promise I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” You feel like you owe this girl the world.

You look out the window, noticing how dark it is. You would stay over her house again, but something inside you urges you to go home. You shift on the bed, stretching as you get ready to stand up again.

“I think I’m gonna head home now,” you say, and you see her eyebrows knit in confusion immediately. You know what she’s thinking. “It’s not for Beomgyu. It’s for me.”

She still looks uneasy, but she doesn’t put up a fight. You’re glad she saves her lectures on Beomgyu this once. She gives you a parting hug.

“Think about my offer,” she says as you pull away. Her eyes are hopeful, like she’s counting on you for this one thing.

“I will,” you promise.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you get home, you take yourself straight to Beomgyu’s room. It’s late, and you know he must be sleeping, but you don’t want to feel alone for even a second. You don’t want to think about Soobin.

Beomgyu’s room is slightly illuminated by the glow of his gaming setup. He looks so peaceful laying in his bed. His chest rises and falls in a perfect rhythm, and you find yourself calming down. You stand there in the doorway for a minute, debating whether or not it was too far to go and wrap your arms around him.

He stirs in his sleep. Perhaps he felt your presence—you wouldn’t doubt it at this point. The boy has always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to you.

“Gyu?” you whisper, testing if he’s waking up or not. His eyes flutter open, so slightly and sleepily that you barely see it. When he notices you standing at his door, he shifts on the bed to make room for you. He pats the spot next to him on the mattress, and your body responds to his call immediately. It seems the magnets attracting you together have never left.

You settle in beside him, cozying up to his warmth. Your eyes are unblinking as they stare at his ceiling. You barely feel like you’re in your own body as Beomgyu tucks you into his side. You only sort of register it as the weight of his arm falls across your waist.

“You came back,” Beomgyu says, voice scratchy and deep from sleep.

“You knew I would.” He doesn’t respond. He knows it’s true.

His breathing is starting to grow slower again, and your heart pounds in unease. You won’t be able to fall asleep. You don’t want him to leave you in the real world right now.

“Beomgyu,” you say in a quiet voice. He hums in response, and you feel the vibration of it in your bones. “I ended things with Soobin.”

He freezes. You don’t even feel him breathe anymore. You keep your gaze off of him; if he’s happy, you don’t want to see it. He tries to sit up, but you coax him back down. You don’t want to be up right now.

You continue, “Or, I guess, he ended things with me.”

His silence would irritate you if you didn’t feel so numb. You focus on your breathing, still staring at the ceiling. You feel weightless, like your body could break from the slightest shove.

Finally, he moves beside you. It’s just a turn of his head, but it’s enough to make you feel a little less stiff. You feel his eyes on you, but you can’t be bothered to meet them.

“Well, I’m not gonna say I’m sorry…” he says. You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s smiling.

“I know. Cause you’re an asshole.”

“But I’m not a liar.”

“Sometimes I wish you were,” you sigh. Your life might’ve been easier in that case.

He ignores that. “I’m here for you. Whatever you want, whatever you miss from him, I’m here.”

You don’t need that. You just need a cork in your chest to fill the space your heart has leapt from. His bandages will never stop the bleeding when it’s this profuse.

“I think you were right, I don’t know if this city’s right for me,” you admit quietly, resting your head on his chest. You hope the world is kind enough to let you find sleep tonight. His response comes in the form of hugging you closer to his body. You let it happen, soaking in all his warmth and comfort. This might be the last time you see him, after all.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You don’t say goodbye. You pack a couple bags while Beomgyu’s not home, doing your best to ignore your blurred vision from the tears welling in your eyes. Chaewon greets you with open arms when you arrive at her place.

“Just these?” Chaewon asks, picking up your bags.

“Yeah, I didn’t grab everything. I left most of my stuff there,” you explain, voice hoarse from your crying earlier.

“That’s okay.” She brings your bags to her work room, which she promised to repurpose for you as your own room. You tried saying that you could crash on her couch for now, but she insisted that she’d do this for you, even if it’s just for a couple weeks.

The room is mostly empty—Chaewon must’ve been up all night clearing it out—save for her desk in the corner. You’re reminded of when you moved into your apartment with Beomgyu. The thrill of independence, of being a young adult in a new corner of the world. Everything was exciting and new back then, and you miss the innocence that came with it.

“My friend has a twin size mattress that he’s bringing over later today, we can find a frame for that at some furniture store,” Chaewon says.

“Oh my gosh, your friend doesn’t have to do that!” you exclaim. You already feel yourself becoming a burden. “An air mattress is fine.”

“Stop, I’m probably doing him a favor helping him get rid of it. I’m not making you sleep on an air mattress, those things suck.”

“We shouldn’t buy a bed frame yet, I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” you reason, but Chaewon’s not hearing it, shaking her head and dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand.

“We can just get something cheap. I know a really good place. I got mine there for, like, three hundred.” Your eyes widen. You can’t control your natural reaction to a great bargain. “Yeah, I know. So let’s go there.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur of setting the bed frame up, putting half of your things away, and chatting with Chaewon about how nervous you are about this.

The two of you are cramped into your twin bed, talking the night away like it was any normal sleepover. Chaewon gave you one of her LED lamps, and its multicolored glow is the only source of light in the room. You lean into her, and she lets you practically use her as a pillow.

“Did you tell Beomgyu?” she asks. Her fingers run through your hair calmingly.

“No.” You don’t know if you should feel bad for that. He is your best friend...

“You don’t have to,” she reassures. “You should mute his number. He’s going to find out fast and bug you nonstop.”

Your eyes well up once again. You would have never, ever imagined your friendship with Beomgyu would come to this. Is it for the better? You’ll hate yourself forever if this is the wrong choice. If only you could see into the future. That would have saved you a lot of trouble long ago.

“He’ll know I came to you. He knows exactly where to show up,” you say.

“He could knock on my door all damn day if he wants, he’s not coming in.”

“With how he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he brought a blanket and started sleeping at your door,” you joke. Your laughter is quick to turn to tears, and you don’t even know why. You wipe your eyes, not wanting to cry again, but you can’t help the loss you feel. Beomgyu’s your best friend. You just wish it could’ve stayed that way.

“It’s okay,” Chaewon comforts.

“No, I don’t want to cry,” you say, sniffling back the rest of your tears. “Let’s just watch videos and fall asleep.”

Chaewon leans over to pick up her tablet at the end of your bed, unlocking it to resume the movie you were playing in the background earlier. “Do you still want to watch this?” she asks.

“We should put on YouTube,” you offer instead. You yawn, closing your eyes as she looks for something interesting to put on. You’re already asleep by the time she makes her choice.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The first thing you see after waking up is Beomgyu’s texts. Chaewon would tell you to ignore him, but she’s sleeping soundly next to you and therefore can’t judge you for opening his texts immediately.

[Beomgyu] u out for the night?

[Beomgyu] helloooooo

[Beomgyu] ok well make sure u get to work on time

You should be getting ready for work. You shouldn’t be answering him. You don’t even know what to say, but your fingers itch to respond.

He still doesn’t know you won’t be coming back for a bit. Should you keep it that way? An ache in your heart begs you to spill everything to him. You look at Chaewon again, making sure she’s asleep. You look back to your phone with a sigh and let your fingers fly across the keyboard without a second thought.

You don’t reread the text once you send it. The only move you make afterwards is to mute his notifications. Something about it makes you feel so empty. You don’t know if you feel like a whole new person or the shell of a person. You don’t have time to linger on it either, because you have to get ready for work.

The feeling persists throughout the day. You feel like a robot, like you’re living life on autopilot, letting your body carry you around while your soul is busy searching for the important answers. You don’t care which font your boss would like best for the title on this report, you don’t care what kind of smoothie your coworker should get. You want to know how to fix your life.

Your walk back from work is much stranger now that you can’t take the path your feet have memorized so well. The thought that this could be the path you’d walk to walk everyday for weeks or even months strikes you with a sort of dismal feeling. This feels different than going to Chaewon’s place after work just to hang out. This is going to Chaewon’s place because that’s where you have to go.

You’re not granted reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts as you make your way home to Chaewon. You question every choice you’ve made up to this point, all the way back to if moving here with Beomgyu was ever a good idea in the first place.

Is there a way to repair all the damage that has been done? The thought of starting all over again is frightening. If you ruined it all, if there’s no going back to how things were, then you might as well make a life for yourself somewhere new.

Maybe you could convince Chaewon to fly across the country with you. You picture a life where you don’t have to worry about bumping into Beomgyu or Soobin again. It both frightens and intrigues you. You can’t be so greedy, though; she has everything set out for her here. You can’t rip her away from the city that loves her so much. You just wish it was as good to you.

The possibilities of what could have been haunt you. You look at passing couples with a sense of envy, picturing you and Soobin in their place. Every store you pass, every street you walk down is a memory that you’ve made. It’s almost too much to handle.

Your feet almost stop as you pass the library. You only let your eyes linger on the building for a few seconds, but that’s long enough to make your insides twist. The warm lights that seep through the windows don’t feel comforting to you anymore. You walk a little faster and tug your jacket closer to your body. The trip back to Chaewon’s feels a little colder now.

You open your messages with Beomgyu as you near her place. You don’t know if you should be happy or scared that he still hasn’t responded. You finally allow yourself to read your parting message, feeling a little emptier as the words linger in your mind with nothing back from him.

Hi Gyu, I’m staying with Chaewon for a bit. I’ll come back if and when I’m ready. I really regret a lot of my recent decisions, and I think I just needed this as a refresh.

Don’t be mad at me. You’ll always be my best friend. Love ya

You swallow down the knot building in your throat. This is for the better. You repeat the phrase like a mantra as you make it to Chaewon’s house. You wonder when her place will start feeling enough like home, when you’ll stop craving to return to your real one. You open the door and shove down all your thoughts and feelings.

This is for the better.

notes: sorry team soobin. sorry team beomgyu. no one wins... and maybe that's what needed to happen... much love and i hope you enjoyed the read!!!

taglist: @beomgyusluver @blankliving @ewsnup @flowzel @immelissaaa @multistansimp4life @nanamongmong

© delugyu 2025, do not translate or reupload

[beloveds-embrace]

I've fallen down this rabbit hole of COD fanfics and I think your writing is awesome and I really enjoy your Poly 141 x roommate!reader and it got me thinking about the first month that you live with them and how weird it probably was.

You’re like a cryptid in the beginning, awkward and determined not to take up a lot of space. The guys see you at odd times during the day or night. You see them at odd times. Like I can imagine one of them, probaby Simon catching you going through the fridge at like 2 in the morning. You stare at each other as you shuffle past with what looks to be a handful of loose lunch meat. Simon is concerned.

Also I bet they forget you live with them on occasion at least to start off with. Like some of your clothes get left in the laundry and get mixed with theirs and the guys are just like ????

I imagine they have to tell you that you can ya know put your dishes in the cupboards, leave your shoes in the entryway, or that you can simply just exist in this space because it’s your home now too.

Thank you sm!!

The first month is, unsurprisingly to everyone, definitely the hardest for you especially if you’d never had roommates before, or roommates like them. You are afraid of overstepping any hidden boundaries, stressed because of moving, college and life in general, and it’s just not a fun time for you.

With the way you are always coming and going, they’d thought you just like to eat outside with your friends, or somewhere else you’d prefer. They think up until Simon catches you not once, not twice, but several times late into the nights eating leftovers like a bird pecking at seeds.

After that last time, though, you start finding whole plates left for you in the fridge, covered and a little note declaring it for you, their resident night owl. It’s such a sweet action you might sniffle just a little. Just a little.

It’s not just lunches and dinners; Kyle is also concerned when he learns that no, you aren’t a wild party animals always out and about and that’s why they never see your shoes, but it’s because you have your own shoe rack inside your room.

In another instance, Johnny accidentally forgets about you and thinks the lovely looking parfait in the fridge is one of the guys trying out new flavours, and eats it.

He doesn’t realize it’s yours until you stumble out of your room, bleary-eyed, and make a beeline to the fridge. He’s watching from the corner of his eye, and gets confused when you just… stare.

“Something wrong, lass?”

“My parfait…”

“…Och, that was yours?”

He does get you another one as an apology, but also makes a mental note to not forget about you again.

As for the laundry; yes. Yes. Kyle and Johnny had a fun time watching the unimpressed look on Simon’s face when they found pink, striped socks with little ghosts on them and asked him if he was getting into fashion.

They are good sports about it, though! Not bothered at all, and they simply fold yours as well if it winds up in theirs. No harm done; you clean up the whole apartment when they are deployed, what’s a little folding in comparison to that?

But inevitably, a month and a half in, they do need to have that conversation. This place is meant for you, too. You are taking up space that is yours, that is meant to be yours, so no more keeping everything in your own room like you are a hermit.

By month two, your shoes have joined theirs, your chair at the kitchen table has a few stickers, and your favorite throw blanket is also their favorite because you know where the good places to buy them are.

[retiredteabag]

Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader, mentions on anxiety.

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been partnered with Sukuna for weeks now, and you were starting to lose it. After turning in your draft for the final presentation, you had learned of your classmates status as a student.

After having assumed that every meeting the two of you held was more of a free tutoring session for the lazy man, it would turn out Sukuna was the only student in class who was rivaling your own grades.

After this information had been absorbed, you left class without so much as a glace the boy's way.

It killed you to know that he was so nonchalant, that he barely put any effort into class and work yet he was up there with you.

He likely thought you a fool, all that time "teaching" him, he probably spent mocking you.

You couldn't help the flood of thoughts that overtook you, thoughts of him mocking you to his friends, thoughts of him screenshotting your messages to send to some group chat, thoughts of him making jeers at your intellect while you explain a concept ad nauseam.

Oh, how you hated him.

It didn't help that you so desperately craved approval from others. Teachers, friends, parents. You wanted it all. If you hadn't their validation, what did you have?

You worked tirelessly to earn the grades you maintained, even if people teased you, called you stuck up, or a sycophant. Was it so wrong to want to be liked?

And here he was, above it all, putting little to no effort into his work and still coming out on top.

He must have found it real funny. Probably had a good laugh every Friday when you met to "work" on your project.

That is why you found yourself writing up a short email, explaining how you no longer had an interest in meeting with him to prep. Requesting he develop his final presentation alone and informing him that from that day forward you would research, write, and present separately.

You hadn't even requested he send in his work for your review, though he had never done it before. No, you would do your part as far away from Sukuna as you possibly could and hope he never looked your way again.

This project was a big deal, you would be presenting it not just to your classmates and professors, no, but company stakeholders as well. They would be coming out to the auditorium to see students speak during finals. Some might even be looking for possible interns.

Apparently Sukuna knew what he was doing so maybe you didn’t need to monitor his work.

You were still going to stress about it though.

--

"UGH! I just cringe to think of every conversation. Why was he even meeting with me?"

You and your roommate had gone out for dinner and you were regaling her with the woes of your school project while she dipped her fries in a generous coating of milkshake.

"That boy looks like he's never held a coherent thought in his head, I doubt he cared to spare any consideration to something other than himself." She spoke with her mouth full, taking another bite, "He looks pretentious."

She wiped her fingers off on her jeans and reached for another handful of fries.

"But that's just the thing" You sigh, "he looks like he wouldn't handle complex thought but-" you're cut off by her giggle but you push onward, "-I'm serious! But he's apparently some wonder boy, a reeeeeal academic." You end your thought with a huff, dipping a nugget into some ketchup, and finishing your meal.

"Well now your Fridays are free, that's nice at least." She shrugs and all you can do is nod. "Who would have thought popular Sukuna is a nerd like you."

"He's not a nerd." You point a finger at her, "He doesn't even study! And I don't get why everyone likes him, he pays nobody the time of day."

"Are you kidding me?" She makes an incredulous laugh, raising her browns.

"What?"

"You haven't the slightest clue why he's so popular? Have you seen the man?"

As much as you hate to admit it... she was a little right. He was undeniably attractive. And his tattoos stretched across his body in a way that made him look like art. He wasn't a peacock either, flaunting himself, he seemed indifferent to the whole thing. He really was just one lucky bastard.

I seriously hate that guy.

--

The next week was filled with your typical busyness, avoiding your project partner didn't really occupy too much space in your mind, especially since he hadn't taken the curtesy to even respond to your email.

That was why, when you eventually saw him straighten his posture the second you entered the shared class, him stalking your movements carefully, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

Did he say anything? No. Did he try to get your attention? No. But he kept looking at you, and every so often during the lecture, you could feel his gaze in your direction. Serving to annoy you further. He could pay no attention in class and still catch up to your academic level.

Stop being a distraction.

Ugh.

--

After the last fiasco with this professor, you weren't exactly looking forward to sharing a word so you found yourself packing up the moment class was over. It hadn't even taken you putting away your folder for you to feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. Sukuna spoke.

"We should probably discuss the presentation."

This might have been the most you had ever heard him say at a time. About school or otherwise.

"I sent you an email, you know?"

You shuffle your bag to fit everything comfortably and zip it up. Continuing on, "We already split everything up, if you'd like to see my slides so you can match my format you'll find them in the email I sent." You swung your bag over your shoulder, "Last week."

You were making your way to the classroom door, fully prepared for him to shrug it off, but he seemed to have kept up with your pace, speaking down into your ear as you made it to the threshold.

"I've looked over your slides. That's not what I'm talking about." He followed behind you, opening the classroom door wider to stand next to you.

"Sukuna. I emailed you. I've emailed you several times. What about our project do we need to discuss that you couldn't have just emailed me about?" You try to keep your voice down, your professor was still at his desk.

"Shouldn't we... I don't know, be practicing?" He shrugs.

"...What?"

"Practicing? For our presentation? I don't know, I figured you would be the type to want things to flow smoothly."

You pull back, "I do want things to flow smoothly, like I already stated in the email, I am going to present first, then wait for questions, and then you'll go and do the same."

He raises a brow, "I got that." The way he looks at you and speaks so patronizingly distinct as if to suggest you were the slow one. "I'm just saying, we should practice at least once, I want to make sure you can do it."

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. No way, NO WAY he had just suggested that YOU didn't know what you were doing. You bark out a laugh. "I'm sorry? You want to make sure I can do it?"

He stands still, looks up at the ceiling, and hums, "Well, you're so anal about stuff, I figured you'd want to."

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears, "I'm sorry I like things to be done right." You swing your bag a little more aggressively. "I'll send you my presentation notes so you can make sure I can do it."

You start to march down the hall, offended by his lackadaisical insults when he swoops up to you in just a few strides. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying.... wouldn't it soothe your anxiety to go over it together? I don't think it's wrong to suggest that we would do better after having gone over it at least once."

Oh sure, he was thinking about your anxiety, how kind. You roll your eyes.

You saw him out of your periphery and clutched your bag to your chest as he approached. When you turned to see him he had his arms raised in defense. "If you really care so much I'll add my slides to the presentation and send it to you."

"Good." You swung back. "I've only been asking for," you roll your eyes, walking backward to one of the campus exits, "oh, I don't know, weeks?"

"Fine." He huffed, squinting at you, "But we seriously should go over it so I can be sure you don't ruin my work with your public speaking." He was smirking at you, you had never seen that look on his face and you hoped never to see it again.

"Oh-" You gasp, "my gosh." You stomp away, whipping out your keys, "Thanks Sukuna, I'll try not to ruin all your hard work since you're such a team player."

That man was dead to you.

--

You would never say it to his face, but as finals approached, you were beginning to feel the typical sickness in your stomach. You made recordings of your note cards to listen to at night, practiced your speech endlessly, and changed the batteries in your clicker at least three times.

You had always been anxious, memories of puking before tests as a child still live on in the churning of your gut. This anxiety helped to motivate you but was unnecessarily intense, your own mother had told you to loosen up in the past but that was simply not something you were capable of controlling.

"Well, you're so anal about stuff-"

Oh, that man pissed you off. And after all that effort to seem cool and composed in all of your "tutoring" sessions, he could still tell that you cared. Cared more than you should.

You would never be the cool girl.

And this was why you were growing more upset with the understanding that you felt- you knew you really would feel better if you could just have the chance to practice your speeches.

But your pride had gotten in the way.

Couldn't he have just said that he wanted to practice instead of making it seem like he didn't believe in you?

His email did come, by the way. No words, just an attachment.

And damn him, the slides we good, not too crowded, and perfectly concise, he even had his speaker notes included and as you whispered them to yourself while sitting on your mattress you became determined.

You would not let this man outperform you. There would be employers present looking for interns and if you wanted to be noticed you could not be seen as the weak leak between the two of you. Especially not if it was Sukuna.

You started your email at 11 that night and rewrote for far too long.

Yes, you would practice your presentation with him, because and ONLY because you wouldn't allow him to drag you down.

It would also help settle your nerves, but he didn't need that confirmation.

It was on. Partner or not, you were fighting for the top spot in class and if your speaking ability fell short in comparison to his, you could not ever stand to look at him again.

But one thing you knew for sure as you sent the email, was that your advisor would be receiving some correspondence about avoiding a certain someone in future semesters.

It was past midnight. You started drafting a note about your class enrollment needs.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Tags: @blueyesuguru @monimonster57

[xndrpndr]

Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

Hi! This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy it :D

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

8.4k words (sorry)

“We’ll only agree if you guys bring along a fourth friend, ok?”

Your three friends all recited to you the conditions a “goddess” had set for the Christmas quadruple date they were dragging you into.

You sat at your desk, speechless as you scanned the pleading faces of your roommates and long-time friends, stunned by their brazen appeals to you. It was probably that last sentence that bamboozled you the most though. Sure you were the closest to them, but it’s not like they were short on other friends. Why did you of all people have to come along?

“Why me of all people?” you asked again, this time out loud.

“Well, apparently, they have a you in their friend group too,” one of your friends began.

“A me?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, a you,” he continued. “Y’know, a stubborn, reclusive homebody who needs to be dragged out of their room every time their friends wanna hang out. All because they enjoy their ‘me time’ a little too much,” he joked, perhaps a bit too accurately imitating your increasingly weak excuses to leave the dorm.

“Ha, ha,” you mocked.

“No seriously! Apparently, her name’s Winter.”

“Winter?” You stifled a snicker. “Like the season? That’s her real name?”

“I mean, that’s what they told us,” your friend replied with a shrug. “Who cares? It’s kinda cute.”

You silently agreed, hiding a smirk as to not concede that your interest was piqued. “So let me get this straight,” you began, folding your arms in an attempt to appear unfazed. “The only reason I’m being dragged along is because you guys need someone to pair up with some girl who—what?—shares my hate for leaving the house? The hell’s in this for me?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Dude, it’ll be a perfect match!” another friend enticed, desperately trying to paint the situation in an appealing light. “You both don’t like leaving your rooms, you both hate meeting new people. It’s like the universe is aligning for you two to meet.”

Did he even realise the irony of that sentence?

“C'mon man, spending Christmas alone in your room three years in a row is some of the saddest shit I’ve ever seen,” The first one remarked.

Well he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t let him get any ground.

“Some people can’t help it,” You retorted.

“Well those people probably don’t have a chance to go out with the most attractive women they’ll ever see.”

You scowled, about to add fuel to the fire before your third friend cut you off.

“Think about it,” he chimed in, shifting the conversation away from an argument. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll probably want this whole thing over with as fast as you do.”

“Uh, huh…” You leaned back in your chair, tamed, but staring at the ceiling unconvinced. A girl like you? With how active the rest of the campus was, you found it hard to believe there was actually someone out there like you—someone cynical and uncomfortable with social gatherings of any form. 

To be clear, you didn't have poor social skills—in fact, you’d argue you had a certain way with words—you just avoided any chance to use them. You had a knack in discerning the smallest shift in someone’s expression, adjusting your tone, words and body language to suit.

But that knack was often overshadowed by an unshakable urge to assess, to weigh every syllable and gesture, scanning for the faintest sign of discomfort or misinterpretation.

This hyperawareness turned into a road-block for any conversation. Instead of letting the flow guide you, you’d find yourself scrutinising every word you said the instant it left your mouth, wondering if it had landed right, if it was too much or too little, or if you’d somehow veered into awkward territory.

The more you tried to keep things smooth, the more you’d find yourself caught in these spirals of self-correction, only to create the very awkwardness you’d been trying to avoid. 

So in the rare case you did end up at a social event, it was like you were playing a part. You stuck to the same few openings, the same practised routes for small talk.

There was nothing organic or genuine about the performance, nothing personal or meaningful. It was merely for show—a facade to keep up appearances.

It was all exhausting, and that’s what you had reiterated to your friends time and time again.

Regardless of your scepticism though, a strange part of you was actually a little curious. Not about the date itself—no, that was still a nightmare—but about this mysterious girl who apparently shared your introversions.

“Look, all we’re asking for is one night,” one pleaded, hands glued together as if he was in prayer. “One night! Just hang out with her for a couple hours while we chat up her friends, and you never have to do this again. You don’t have to see her again, talk to her again or anyone else if we ever ask.  We’ll owe you big time.”

“Seriously dude, we’ll pitch in for the PS5 Pro or something!” another added in further pleas.

You let out a long sigh, staring this time down at your desk. Not in a million years would you even consider buying that atrocious excuse for a cash grab, but the sentiment of your friends owing you that colossal amount was admittedly tempting.

And then there was this Winter girl. The one who was apparently as much of a hermit as you were. You couldn’t ignore that meeting her was happening during Christmas, the very time of year you tried to avoid going out the most. But you almost couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she was, if she really was as closeted as you or just some exaggerated myth your friends had conjured up to lure you out.

It shouldn’t have, but just the idea of her tickled something deep in your brain, flooding your subconscious with various guesses of her character. 

Your mind conjured up an amalgamation of the most attractive women you had seen throughout your life; famous actresses and idols, the cute barista at the Starbucks down the road, that one girl at the airport who caught your eye but you never ended up talking to.  Their looks, personalities, whatever alluring details you could recall were being melted together and forged into what became your own expectation of Winter. 

You imagined a stunning slim and quiet girl—that much was obvious—with milky white hair, and fair complexion. They were traits all befitting of a girl named Winter. But in your mind something about her attitude, her facial expressions… they radiated… cold. It wasn’t unlike how you appeared to strangers—irrationally concealing your timid fear of interaction with a stiff stare and an emotionless face. As  you considered how similar your vision of her felt to you, it was strangely… warm…familiar. 

Within a matter of seconds, your apprehension had transformed to a hesitant desire to meet her. Or rather, this idea of her you had thrown together. 

You sat in a long silence, wrestling with your inner turmoil—your shameful, uncharacteristic urge to discover the truth about this girl. 

Seriously man? You asked yourself. There’s no way in hell she’d look anything like that if she was anything like you. 

Your asshole of a subconscious did have a point. 

But something about this tugged at you in a way you couldn’t help but notice. If this girl was like you, really like you, you had to know.

 “Alright,” you eventually grumbled, putting a hand over your face to suppress the oncoming wave of regret already washing over you. “I’ll go.”

Your friends erupted in cheers, high-fiving and dapping each other up like they had just won themselves a date with the hottest girls on campu–Oh.

“YES! You’re the man!” one of them yelled, giving you a ‘pat’ on the back that almost knocked you out of your chair.

"You won’t regret this!" another exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward you, though deep down, you already kind of did.

“FUCK YEAH!” the last one punched to the sky. “We owe you man,” smiling from ear-to-ear as cheers followed him out of your room.

As you hastily cleared the other two from your territory, you felt the dread settling in. One night, that’s all it was, you told yourself. Just one night with this girl named Winter, who was probably as opposed to this as you were.

What’s the worst that could happen?

---

Before you knew it, you were in your friend’s car, dressed in your Sunday’s best—which, admittedly, was a hastily thrown together fusion of your roommates’ closets.

An attempt had been made to make your less than desirable features appear at least mildly presentable to the outside world. Your hair had been styled with some expensive hair product you could barely pronounce, your caveman scent obscured by some B-list celebrity’s cologne, and your abhorrent posture—honed through years of agonising abuse to your spine—was being corrected by your friends’ frustrated hands what felt like every other second. 

They had half-jokingly, half-100%-seriously subjected you to some correction exercises over the past few days, few of which you actually bothered to attempt. Obviously, the few you had tried didn’t work, as your friend had stopped bothering to correct your posture himself, instead resorting to giving you a stinging slap every time your spine inevitably slumped from upright.

 The swelling of the handprint forming on your back had charitably distracted you from the metric-shit ton of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It caused your breathing to grow heavy and your heart to feel it was going to burst from your chest. A couple sleepless nights and a few too many hours of staring blankly at your PC monitor had transformed your strange curiosity for meeting Winter back into dread. 

You had moronically forgotten you actually had to talk to this girl for a couple hours instead of just confirming if she was similar to you.

Either you forced some kind of pitiful attempt at conversation with her—risking major embarrassment—or both of you succumb to sitting in introverted silence. 

Even if you could properly wrestle with overusing your little talent, the fact was, any attraction whatsoever to a girl caused you to fold like a cheap suit, rendering your ability useless. If Winter was any bit as alluring as your mind made her out to be it would be more than disastrous for you. It would be like every ounce of composure was swapped out for a hyperactive inner monologue—one that left you stumbling over your own thoughts.

As your friend’s car hummed along the bustling holiday streets, your mind continued to spin in overdrive almost as quickly as the neon red and green of the city's Christmas ornaments seemed to appear and disappear all around you. You aimed  to avoid risking any conversation that led to your humiliation, desperately mapping out the possible routes for conversation. This process was standard yet exhaustive at this point—your own RPG dialogue tree being mapped out in your mind.

"Hey, nice to meet you. How’s it going?"

"Fine."

[ No further options.]

You could already feel the weight of the dead-end conversation dragging the both of you down. That wasn’t going to work.

“So, what kind of stuff are you into?"

"Not much."

 [FAILED: Charisma check too low.]

Your mind projected you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to find something, anything, to say while Winter twiddled her thumbs, wondering out loud with a groan,“Why did I even bother to show up.”

 What the fuck brain? That wasn’t helping your confidence at all.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

"Yeah, same."

[Neutral response. Proceed carefully.]

This felt promising. You could try pushing deeper, maybe ask a follow-up question, but you could already feel how you would screw it all up—one wrong word, one wrong look and kaput.

How about…

[Say Nothing.]

[No response.]

Yeah, that’s probably how it’s gonna go.

The car hit a bump in the road, and so did your only shred of confidence in this turning out well. You sighed quietly to yourself, senselessly running through these hypothetical scenarios in your head, frantically searching for the “good” dialogue option that simply wasn’t available to you.

There was no save scumming in real life, no charisma stat to help you bluff and charm your way through the whole thing, no getting lucky with your dice rolls either. It was just your limited social ability, a few thinly veiled attempts at small talk, and the faint hope that Winter might somehow be interested in having a conversation. It all reminded you why you avoided these kinds of situations in the first place…

You suck at them.

What felt like eternity with your own thoughts was soon interrupted as the car pulled up to the curb. You noticed the Christmas themed sign of the barbeque restaurant in the evening dusk. You stared at it, utterly terrified like it was signalling the entrance to some twisted version of hell—a place where your date, crowds of people, and the inevitable crushing embarrassment of being out of your element awaited—your hell. 

Your friends on the other hand were already pumped, talking over each other in excitement as they recounted for the hundredth time just how hot these girls they scored were. Meanwhile, you were still stuck somewhere between resignation and panic.

Their voices blended into background noise—drowned out by the mental gymnastics you were performing to figure out how to survive the next couple of hours. You hadn’t even walked into the restaurant yet, and you already felt like retreating into the comforting embrace of your bed sheets back home.

As you resolved to follow your friends inside you were instantly hit by a wall of warmth, thick with the smell of grilling meat and the hum of lively holiday celebrants. The restaurant was buzzing—waiters weaving between tables, the sizzling of meats echoing from grills, and laughter rippling across the room like a contagious wave. Already the ‘energy’ in here was too much for you, prompting you to  take a moment to adjust the atmosphere—all while your friends strode in like they owned the place. 

This was the kind of scene you’d typically steer clear of: crowded, chaotic, and packed with people who simply enjoyed the presence of others. The holiday season did nothing to ease your anxiety, doing its part to gather everyone together by filling every seat in the restaurant. You shoved your hands into the unfamiliar pockets of the jacket your friends threw on you, hyper aware of how out of place you felt.

 Your friends were greeted with warm smiles from the hostess—predictably, since they looked like they had just stepped off of the cover of Vogue magazine. Meanwhile, you were certain you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.

She led you all to a private booth which was, thankfully, designated its own corner far away from the rest of the vivacious dynamic of the restaurant’s other patrons. Your relief didn’t last long though, as your heart leapt into your throat when you spotted four girls already sitting there. Three of them stood up to greet you, all endearing smiles, waves and the obligatory “Merry Christmas.”

Your fear was instantly frayed as the first girl began her introduction. Her name was Karina, and you were taken aback at how uncannily beautiful she was. In fact, it was almost unsettling how flawless she looked. It was like she had been engineered in a lab or generated by some AI algorithm designed to create the perfect face. Everything, right down to her sharp profile and unnaturally smooth skin was other-wordly perfect. A small mole dotted the edge of her chin, like an anchor tethering her otherwise impossibly symmetrical features to reality. She greeted your friends with a poised smile, but there was something behind her eyes—sharp, calculating, and trained on you—like she was sizing you up in particular.

But your mind paid that no attention as the next beauty introduced herself as Giselle—Her confident demeanour being the highlight for you. She moved with an ease that gave the impression she wasn’t fazed by anything or anyone. Her posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanding, exuding an energy that screamed, I’m hot, and I fuckin’ know it. The assertive eye contact she made with each of you as she introduced herself caused you to shrink back, almost out of respect for her authority. In contrast, her voice was steady and warm, but her eyes flicked back to Karina’s every so often, like the two of them were communicating without saying a word.

Then there was Ning Ning, who practically radiated excitement. Her lips curved into a smile that was bright and infectious, the kind that lit up her entire face. She greeted you all with a playful wave that bordered on adorable. Yet there was a switch in her—something in the way her expression shifted mid-conversation from lively and sweet to striking confidence—which could flip in an instant. She seemed to live in the moment though, completely detached from whatever silent exchange was happening between the other two. It was hard to tell if Ning Ning was more girl-next-door or temptress, and that fluidity made her all the more intriguing.

Your friends weren’t exaggerating. Each of them was stunning in their own way—like the kind of women you’d expect to see gracing the pages of a high-fashion magazine or as models strutting down a runway.

Yet, you couldn't help but notice the girl still seated at the inner end of the table, toying with her sleeves as the soft glow of her phone lit her face. Winter, you assumed. She didn’t stand, didn’t do so much as glance briefly at the four of you. But even in her stillness, she drew your attention. Her beauty wasn’t like Karina’s polished perfection or Giselle’s self-assured allure and most definitely not like Ning Ning’s bubbly charm. Winter appeared different—there was something so fundamentally distinct about her that interested you, piqued your curiosity when you thought you were infallible to such feelings. Regardless of what you heard about her, you found yourself encapsulated by nothing but her sheer beauty. 

As your eyes lingered on her you didn’t feel like you were looking at a person. Instead it was as if you were gazing upon the natural landmark of a frost-covered landscape—pure, serene, and silently breathtaking. It was as if she belonged more to the cold elegance of nature than to the warmth of human company. Her presence was subtle yet striking, like the clear, crisp air on a winter morning. The restaurant's soft, amber light caught her pale complexion in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, yet still grounded. Her silvery-white hair cascaded around her face like freshly fallen snow, soft and shimmering, as if her namesake itself had carefully crafted each strand to highlight her delicate features. Somehow, Winter lived up to that paradoxically beautiful expectation you had envisioned, but seeing her in person gave the impression she transcended it.

You stumbled through your own introduction to the rest of the girls, utterly captivated by what most people would consider a bad display of manners. Anybody in your shoes would have had their eyes glued to the trio of goddesses standing before you, but you could barely spare them a second—alright, a third glance. 

Predictably, the small talk that followed didn’t include you. Your friends however—more eager than you’ve ever seen them—quickly launched into banter with Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning. Normally you would be in awe of how easy they made the whole thing look, but you could only half-listen, your thoughts and eyes constantly drifting toward Winter, who remained seated quietly at the end of the booth.

Eventually, Karina offered you all to sit, prompting one of your friends to shove you along to your side of the table. The little collision knocked you out of the fugue-like state you were in, drawing a quiet cry that caused laughter to erupt around you. Quickly realising that you’d be facing Winter, you hesitantly sat down, your eyes flicking back to her every now and then.

When she finally glanced your way, there was a brief pause, her cool eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you were caught, held in the silence between you. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but a hint of vulnerability showed itself as she studied you. Before you knew it, you were staring—completely absorbed by the depth in her eyes. They weren’t just cold or distant as you first thought—they were calm, almost reflective, like a still lake that hid something beneath its surface. The more you looked, the harder it became to pull yourself away.

Seconds passed—maybe more—and you didn’t even realise how long you’d been holding her gaze until your heart gave a sudden jolt, reminding you that you were looking at a person and not nature’s pièce de résistance. Embarrassment shot through you as you quickly broke eye contact, feeling a heat crawl up your neck.

“Winter, right?” Your voice came out much too casual, completely betraying the fact that you were just caught staring at her like an absolute buffoon. How did you already manage to mess this up?

Winter tilted her head ever so slightly, a small flicker of amusement ghosting over her lips before she nodded. She blinked more than once, her lashes fluttering to mask brief hesitation. Her gaze softened just slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply. Her voice was soft, but clear. There was no hint of awkwardness or hesitation, but the slight shift in her posture, the way her fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt said otherwise.

You nodded, you’d only asked one question and you already felt like your dialogue options were exhausted. But on the bright side, the mere fact she replied meant things were already going better than they did in your head.

The silence between you both stretched for a beat, then another. Neither of you spoke, but remarkably it felt like the words were there, waiting to be said. Winter’s fingers continued nervously with her sleeve, brushing the fabric in small, rhythmic strokes, while you found yourself looking at empty plates, the table—anything but her. Both of you seemed unsure of what to say next, letting you confidently conclude that she was indeed as nervous as you. You noticed her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again after a moment of hesitation. 

A few more seconds passed before you both spoke at once.

“So—”

“Did you—”

You stopped mid-sentence, catching her eye before you let out a quiet, awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. You go first.”

Winter looked down briefly, as if gathering herself. When she lifted her gaze again, there was a softness in her eyes, and a hint of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb brushed the edge of the table, tracing it gently as she glanced back at you. “They had to bribe you too?” She asked timidly, lightly gesturing to your friends who were engrossed with hers.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s a whole mess, isn’t it?”

Winter nodded, her own smile flickering into existence, delicate but brief. Her voice softened as she admitted, ”These three promised me free food for a week just to get me to show up.” Winter scrunched her face, slanting her eyebrows in an attempt to scowl at them, but failed miserably, producing an adorable pout that was more endearing than anything else.

Your heart may as well have melted right there. 

You laughed softly, buying yourself time to regain your composure. From afar, she was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but up close? When that cold, hard exterior began to fade, she doubled as the cutest too.

Your little chuckle successfully let you continue the eerily natural flow the two of you had going. “Mine offered to chip in for a game console.”

“So that’s what got you, huh?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and for the first time, you saw her smile linger just a little longer. It wasn’t just her smile though. A slight accent softened the edges of her naturally sweet tone. Everything she said felt so easy on the ears, so digestible, and you—despite your scepticism and bitterness towards being here—found yourself hungry for more. Your friends would have called you a hypocrite, but in your defence, they both contributed to this perfect image that sat opposite you. You couldn't help but think it was the cutest sight you’d ever seen. 

Perhaps that’s what gave you the strength to say this next part.

“Well not exactly…” You trailed off, breaking eye contact as your fingers fidgeted nervously under the table. 

Winter tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in anticipation like a puppy awaiting a command. God, how was everything she did so adorable?

You leaned in, still avoiding her gaze and turned your head slightly toward the wall, hoping the others wouldn’t overhear what you were about to say.

“I was uh…” You began, almost a whisper as the words struggled to leave your suddenly dry mouth.

This time Winter leaned in, meeting you at a distance a little too close for comfort.

“I was curious about you…”

Your words were like bullets, creating an embarrassing recoil that sent you hurtling back into the headrest, your gaze pointing straight down as a crimson flush seized the skin of your cheeks.

Your friends would have scoffed at how trivial that whole exchange seemed, all the while you felt like a timid middle schooler confessing to his crush. You managed to baffle yourself with your boldness, not daring to look up and see Winter’s reaction.

To your further surprise, your little self-conscious introspection was interrupted by a giggle. Not just any giggle. Winter’s giggle.

You looked up to meet her face—equally as rosy as yours. But in place of your distraught expression was Winter, giggling like a child on a sugar-high. Her laughter was light and melodic, bubbling up like it couldn’t be contained. She leant back covering her open mouth with her hand. Her whole face had lit up, it was the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and shook her shoulders ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the sound, though—it was the way she smiled from ear to ear, so unguarded and genuine, a welcome contrast to the shy and distant she showed otherwise.

You lied earlier. This was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, you were confused by her sudden outburst, but as the infectious warmth of her laughter sunk in, a mutual smile spread across your face. The tension you’d been holding onto for several days seemed to melt away with each lingering note of her laugh. You honestly had no idea what she found so funny, but in the moment, you were just happy to go along with it, confident that you were doing at least something right.

Your friends, noticing her giggling, shared amused glances but didn’t interrupt. From the way they were staring, they were just as surprised as you were at how well this was going. They all held an expression that confessed we didn’t know you had it in you.

Ning Ning too giggled under her breath, playfully nudging Giselle. “Look at that—actual progress,” she muttered teasingly, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Karina though, was different. She subtly monitored the interaction, her sharp gaze softened now, intrigued by how Winter was opening up. It felt like she approved though, commending you in getting Winter out of her shell. She stayed silent though, still content to just observe.

Winter’s adorable outburst slowly ebbed, her shoulders still shaking slightly as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an adorable mix of bashfulness and amusement colouring her features.

“So…” she began meekly, eyes flickering down before meeting yours again. “Do I live up to your expectations?” Her tone was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

You were caught off guard by Winter’s own intrepid addition to your conversation, feeling your face heat up as you struggled to find the right words. 

I—well…” You exhaled, trying to pull together the honesty that was suddenly a challenge to articulate in her presence. “You’re not what I expected,” you admitted, a gentle smile finding its way onto your face. “I don’t think I could’ve pictured someone quite like you, even if I’d tried.” 

The sudden spark of vulnerability in Winter’s expression tugged at something in you. You realised your answer might’ve sounded too cryptic, maybe even evasive. The faint quiver of her brow and roll of her Adam's apple told you she wasn’t sure how to take that.

You cleared your throat, glancing up at her cautiously as you explained, “I mean that in a good way!” Winter had a beauty that seemed too obvious, too stunning to need validation, yet you couldn’t help but want to say it aloud. “I thought you’d be stunning and well…you are.” Winter turned away sharply, hiding her flushing face with a hand. “I just thought that you’d be a lot more.. distant. But meeting you here, seeing you laugh and smile…” you were thinking of an eloquent way to put this, but you found yourself beholden to the truth right now. 

Winter was having this… effect on you. You weren’t one to ‘open up’ or ‘talk about their feelings’ and yet you felt compelled to here. “Seeing you laugh and smile… I can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was spurred on from what you’d just described.

Winter’s cheeks deepened from a soft pink to a vibrant flush, and she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers lingered over her features, like she was trying to shield herself from the intensity of the moment. Her eyes darted back to you and the delicate gleam in her gaze made your heart skip. 

“Really?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though she feared saying anything louder might shatter the fragile honesty between you. She dropped her hand from her coloured cheeks, her eyes tracing your face for confirmation. “You really think that?”

You nodded, the sincerity in your gaze unwavering. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the air. 

Winter’s shoulders began to relax, she herself not realising that they were glued to her neck. Her face remained flushed, but the tightness in her posture had vanished, leaving her more relaxed and open in how she sat.

“Thank you…” she let out. Her voice remained soft, but they certainly carried more weight.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised too…” She hesitated, glancing away, lips curving into a soft smile. “I thought you’d be just like everyone else…” You listened attentively, holding her gaze while she spoke tenderly, honestly.

“So I didn’t expect you to be…well, this easy to talk to,” she admitted, rubbing up her arm. “You don’t feel like everyone else, all practised lines and smooth talking,” she let out a faint chuckle. “ You make mistakes, you slip up. You’re like me. And um… cute too.” It was your turn to look away, your own cheeks starting to heat up. “So there’s something really nice about that...”

 You pinched yourself under the table. This was going too well for you. This had to be a dream.

“I’m glad you think that,” you told her with a smile. Your voice was lower and steadier than you’d expected, though a trace of disbelief lingered beneath your words. Because, truthfully, you could never have imagined this going so well—not in a million lifetimes. 

To your absolute delight, Winter sent you another wide smile. You didn’t think it could get much wider, but somehow she pulled it off.

You hadn’t realised it till she brought it up, but with Winter, you didn’t need to use those memorised openers or routes. She enticed you in such a way that just encouraged you to just… be you. Everywhere else you went you always felt an expectation to act like everyone else, to sound like them. But in the short time you’ve been around Winter, you hadn’t felt that at all. Was it because you two were similar? 

“So,” You began, searching for your answer. “I take it you’re not a big fan of all this?” You gestured to the six other residents of the table, and by extension the rest of the restaurant.

Winter raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair.  She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table, almost like she was trying to ground herself. “More or less. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate people... I just like my space, y’know? Too much noise, too many people... it feels like I’m in the wrong place.” She paused, glancing briefly at the rest of the table. “But you get it, right?”

“More than I care to admit,” you replied with a sigh, feeling some strange sense of relief wash over you. “It’s exhausting. I never know what to say, or how to keep up.”

Winter’s lips curved upward again, knowingly. She seemed to relax even more, sinking into the conversation as much as she did her seat. "Exactly. It always feels like everyone has these… scripts. Like they know exactly what to say and when to say it." She gestured lightly toward your friends, still engrossed in their own lively conversations. "But it’s… difficult. It’s all tiring,” She confessed with a little pout. “It doesn't feel natural or genuine to me, it feels like I'm… like I'm…”

“Like you’re playing a character,” you finished, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glimmer of recognition passing through them. “Exactly!” she rejoiced. A quiet laugh escaped her, one that sounded relieved. “All our friends can happily be themselves, but we’re stuck acting like someone else.”

As Winter continued, you noticed a subtle shift in the way she spoke. It wasn’t just about her anymore—she was talking about the both of you. There was something comforting about the fact that she felt like you were in this together, like she saw a bit of herself in you. You weren’t just sharing a conversation anymore—it was an understanding. 

You nodded, staring into her opulent orbs as if she were a reflection of yourself.

But before either of you could say more, Karina’s voice cut through the air, pulling you both back into reality.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds ready to order?” she teased.

You blinked and glanced around, realising that everyone else had been staring at you—impatient, but knowing smiles all around. Even the waiter at the head of your table, pen poised and all, gave you a subtle, approving nod. 

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, feeling a rush of heat crawl up your neck. You turned to glance at Winter, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. Her eyes, wide and glimmering, were so close that you could see the subtle flecks of silver and blue swirling within them. The space between you was almost nonexistent; you were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath, your noses almost grazing. Wait, what? The realisation hit you both at once, and in an instant, you jolted back into your seat, wide-eyed and startled, your heart pounding from the unexpected proximity.

Winter did the same, recoiling sharply and causing a small tremble in the table. Her face flushed a deep, rosy pink, the sudden burst of colour creeping from her cheeks down to her neck. 

“I’ll have the—”

“Could I have—”

 You both started at once, then stopped, exchanging an awkward, embarrassed laugh. You gave a little nod, gesturing for her to go first. 

“ I’ll have the…” 

Winter’s voice trailed off as she scanned the menu in a hurry, cheeks still rosy. She managed to mumble her order, then you fumbled your way through yours right after, both of you clearly rattled but trying to play it cool.

As the waiter left the table, a heavy silence settled over you and Winter. The energy from before—where genuine laughter and soft words had filled the space between you two—seemed to have dissipated. Now, you found yourself unable to speak, the memory of that fleeting, close encounter hanging thickly in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It rendered thinking of something to say practically impossible.

You glanced at Winter, only to find her just as quiet. She was staring at the menu again, though you knew she wasn’t really reading it. Her fingers brushed along the page absentmindedly, putting in no effort whatsoever to make her rapid flicking believable. Every so often, her eyes would dart toward you, only to quickly return to the menu the second she thought you might notice.

Despite the tension, a sense of relief came over you. The silence gave you an opportunity to collect yourself, to push back the storm of emotions swirling around inside you. You sank a little further into your chair, quietly thankful for the momentary ceasefire. 

Your mind wandered to all those couples who roamed the city streets—it was the bitter truth that you wouldn’t fit in as one of them. The way you’d always seen yourself didn’t align with how those people acted: smiling and talking for what felt like forever. For years on end you considered yourself emotionally unavailable, selfish with any time you had.  Yet, here you were, sitting across from Winter, someone who was...different. Someone who made you feel like, maybe—just maybe—you were capable of being one of those couples.

You shook your head slightly, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. No, that kind of thing didn’t happen to people like you. You were reading too much into it, weren’t you? It had to be just the heat of the moment, the proximity playing tricks on your mind. The sincerity in her gaze, the warmth of her breath—it was just...well, it was nothing, really.

But then why was your heart still racing?

Winter shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes still trained on the menu. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself, the words catching before they had a chance to escape. You could almost feel her nerves mirrored in your own chest.

You too thought about saying something—anything—to break the silence, but every possible word felt clumsy in your mind. You were far too embarrassed to speak up, but at the same time, you wanted to recover the soft energy that radiated between the two of you—the thrill of a conversation where you felt at ease, where you could be you. 

"Sorry, about… uh, that," you forced out, sending her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” There was no reason for you to take responsibility, but you assumed it would ease her if she was absolved of fault. After all, it would have eased you.

Winter shook her head quickly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Trust me, if anyone made things weird, it was me.” You couldn't help but laugh—she was trying to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t worry about it, Winter,” you assured, her name slipping out instinctively.

There was a shift in her posture as her name escaped your lips, subtle but noticeable. She uncrossed her legs under the table and leaned forward ever so slightly, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve again. She seemed on the verge of saying something important. You could sense it in the way she glanced at you—anxious eyes, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Her lips pressed together for a moment, then softened as if she’d finally made up her mind. Her eyes met yours, letting you peer into that reflective lake once again. But this time, you could almost make out what was below— she was letting down a wall, one you’d wager few have ever seen behind.

 She took a breath, her chest rising and falling with a quiet resolve, and then, in almost a whisper she spoke.

 “Please. Call me Minjeong.” 

The simplicity of the words didn’t match the weight they carried. There was something so incredibly personal in her request, something that felt like a secret being shared between just the two of you. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, as if waiting to see how you’d react, her vulnerability laid bare.

“M-Minjeong,” you stuttered delicately, the name feeling both foreign and intimate on your tongue, like you were stepping into a space no one else had been invited to. 

Minjeong’s expression softened even more, a glimmer of relief flashing across her eyes. She let out a breath, one she seemed to have been holding in anticipation of your response. A curve played across her lips. It was pure, unguarded. You almost could see the warmth radiating off of her, like this simple act of you saying her name had drawn you two closer.

“I— I like the way you say it,” she confessed quietly.  Her voice was shy, as if she wasn’t used to hearing her own name spoken aloud.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, unsure of how to respond but feeling the gravity of the moment pull you deeper into her orbit. The vulnerability in her tone, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, made everything feel so surreal. You had no idea what to say next, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none seemed enough.

Multiple pairs of eyes fell on you from around the table, but neither you nor Minjeong were in the right state to acknowledge it. As far as you were both concerned, you two were the only people on Earth right now.

Before you could manage a reply, Minjeong spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most people just call me Winter. It’s easier for me… less personal.” She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her sleeve. “But I dunno…” She trailed off. “Minjeong feels right with you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing something fragile. It was like she was giving you a piece of herself, trusting you to hold it gently.

“Minjeong,” you repeated, this time more certain. “It’s a beautiful name.”

She met your gaze again, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” she murmured, a shy smile tugging at her lips, but this time, there was no hesitation in the way she looked at you. No walls, no pretence. Just Minjeong, in all her quiet, ethereal beauty.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind you hadn’t experienced in years. It was like being a teen again, that rush of excitement and nervous energy coursing through you—the way it used to when you’d catch your crush’s eye across the room and feel your heart race. But this was different—it was deeper. As you sat there, looking at Minjeong, you realised it wasn’t just her beauty or the way she had let you in. It was the feeling she stirred in you, something you thought you’d long forgotten. She wasn’t just someone who caught your eye—she made you feel alive again. Like you were rediscovering that fluttery, intoxicating rush from your youth, but unlike then it wasn’t fleeting. There was a quality to it that you just couldn’t articulate—your years of social isolation, your unending cynicism towards basic human emotion left you that way. 

But you tried, tried to put a label on this unfamiliar feeling. You searched your mind for a word, a description, anything that could encompass what was building in your chest, but nothing came close. It was a bewildering sensation that refused to fit into the neat definitions you knew.

The tension in your mind dissipated the moment the waiter brought the food, and you watched as everyone’s attention turned to their meals. The table filled with idle chatter and silverware scraping against plates, grounding you back to the present. You took a steadying breath, grateful for the pause and the warmth of the meal as it cut through the delicate web that had woven itself between you and Minjeong.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice her in the little pauses and movements—the way her eyes sparkled with each glance around the table, her small, quiet smile at each bite. Even now, Minjeong’s presence felt magnetic, she occupied her space without demanding it, a rare grace that felt refreshing. Each time she looked up, she met your eyes with a soft, almost bashful smile that sent an echo of warmth through you. It made you want to reach out, to learn more, to let her know how much she’d already begun to matter to you.

The conversation around the table grew louder, but your own exchange with Minjeong stayed quiet and gentle. You spoke in low tones, sharing snippets about each other’s lives. Every glance, every subtle word between you seemed to deepen the quiet understanding you shared. Gone was your lacking composure, the insatiable need to assess and please. Your exchange with Minjeong felt like a safe space, a judgement-free zone to be yourself in public. You’d explain to her all your nerdy hobbies, and she would listen with genuine attentiveness, her eyes adorably lighting up when you’d find something else in common. In return, you found yourself hanging onto every word she offered back, falling deeper and deeper into the conversation as she opened herself up to you

And when there were lulls—as there inevitably were between introverts such as the two of you—you both found comfort even in the silence. It was strange, feeling so drawn to someone you had known for only a few hours. The part of you that usually resisted connections seemed to fall silent in her presence. And as she leaned in closer to share an amused thought, her fingers playing absently at the edge of her napkin, you felt something within you shift.

What was this feeling, exactly? You had tried to put it into words, only to come up empty. You were someone who could gauge how a person was feeling from body language alone, like you could measure and judge everything they felt. But when it came to yourself—your feelings, your emotions—you came up short. 

But as the evening wore on and the rest of the table grew quieter, you found yourself looking at Minjeong with a soft certainty. From the way Minjeong looked at you, you got the impression she was struggling with the same dilemma. But you didn’t need to name this undefined feeling that stirred in you. Every shared glance, every smile that lingered a beat too long—these were all the words you needed. There was an understanding—unspoken yet undeniable—that whatever this was, it was real. And in that moment, with the quiet warmth shared between you two, it was enough.

---

You emerged from the restaurant, taking in the brisk air of the Christmas evening. Typically, retreating back into the bustling street was your first step in your retreat to the solitary comfort of your dorm room. It let you breathe a sigh of relief for escaping whatever social event you had been forced into. 

But tonight? Tonight your steps were unhurried, in fact you felt the urge to linger. Tonight, Minjeong was by your side, her soft smile mirroring your own. The breath you let go this time was instead a remorseful one, a signal that your time together was almost over. Of course as much as she looked the part, the girl before you wasn’t some unreachable, otherworldly angel—she was real, and very much contactable. 

You both watched from afar as your friends exchanged phone numbers with Karina, Giselle and Ning Ning. On any other day, you would have looked on in unspoken envy,but alas, tonight was different. You stared at the new contact sitting in your phone—a beautiful name befitting of an equally beautiful woman, punctuated by two snowflakes either side of it. 

“Minjeong,” it read. Simple, familiar now, but it held a weight you’d never thought a name could carry.

You grinned, feeling a warmth unlike any the night’s chill could steal away. The white-haired girl handed your phone back to you, sending a sincere smirk your way. 

“Make sure to call me, okay?” 

Her tone was light and gentle, but her eyes were serious, like this meant more to her than anything else.

“Of course,” you assured. There was nothing in this world that could make you shatter the joy reflected in that smile.

Without warning, she stepped forward, instantly closing the distance between you.  Her arms wrapped around you—warm, gentle and tentative. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but the heat of her body—which was now flush to yours—quelled any concern.  Instinctively, your arms folded around her, drawing her closer, absorbing her presence. The soft scent of her hair drifted up to you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own.

“Thank you for tonight.” She whispered, her soft voice muffled by your chest.

You didn’t know how long you two were standing there, pressed together as one, but in the moment it didn’t matter. When she finally pulled away, you saw her face, beaming like the sun shines.

“Have a wonderful night,” she said, her cheeks flushed, mirroring the festive glow of the streets around you.

“It already has been,” you replied, your heart full as you returned a gentle, loving smile.

Love. You chuckled. 

Maybe that’s what this was.

---

If you got here thank you much for reading my first ever fic! I know there's a lot of filler here which could very easily be removed, but I really just wanted to keep everything I'd written. In the future, I'll make sure everything's more streamlined.

But apart from that I'd love for some constructive criticism. Thanks again!

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper aftermath

hesseung x reader

adult content featured

it’s been about a week since you let popular playboy and fuckboy lee heeseung take your virginity. and every since then you couldn’t stop thinking about him—mainly his dick.

“just ask him to be your fuck buddy.” your friend shrugged nonchalantly.

“i can’t just do that, can i?” you asked, your fork playing around your food.

“of course you can! pretty sure it won’t be the first time he heard it from a girl.”

your heart sank thinking about the other girls he’s been with and possibly have the same arrangement with. would he want another? would he want you?

his words stuck in your mind, but obviously he only said that because he was so lost in the moment fucking you, right?

you sighed. “i guess i’ll ask the next time i see him.”

and that day came sooner than you thought. literally the next day. but you were least expecting to run into him at the senior citizen center you volunteered at.

“heeseung?” you squeaked, playing uno with a resident as he came up behind her.

“hey,” he greeted your name with a big smile. “surprised to see you here.”

“i could say the same thing for you.” you mumbled and heeseung laughed.

“didn’t think a playboy would like to spend extra time around older people?”

“not really.”

“oh mr heeseung is the best. he flirts with all us women here like it’s his job.” the woman, elena, said with a smile.

“well don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite miss elena.” heeseung replied smoothly.

elena smiled, probably enjoying having a young, handsome guy flirt with her openly.

a resident assistant came by to tell elena it was time to gather in the dining hall as dinner was about to be served.

“you two youngins behave now.” elena pointed with a smile and walked off.

you and heeseung were left alone. “what do you usually do here other than interact with them?” heeseung asked.

“i usually help in the stock room.” you replied.

heeseung held out his arm, signaling for you to go on and he’d follow.

you walked down the long carpeted hallway to the stockroom that was near the kitchen. as usual, the stock room was empty of people, but full of cups, blankets, pillows, and other things usually needed.

“i usually just take notes of what’s low and what can wait to be ordered for a while.” you told heeseung, grabbing a notebook you kept in there.

“what should i do?” heeseung asked, shocking you to the max.

“um, you can refold the blankets and towels? they do get quite messed up with the assistants going in and out at a fast pace.”

heeseung nodded and got right to work while you did the same with your task. you both worked in comfortable silence, each of you taking hidden glances at each other.

more so heeseung taking in sneaky glances of you while you worked. he loved the way your jeans hugged your legs, but even more so, loved how your shirt was the opposite—baggy and worn out. definitely opposite of clothing he seen you in at the party.

the party where he took your virginity. and ever since, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. even when his dick was in another girl, he only thought about you.

let’s say, since you, he’s only been with one other girl and he accidentally moaned out your name.

he’s been to himself since then. he urgently went to his friend and roommate jay, actually terrified that he was only thinking of you.

“either you like her for some reason or you want her as your sex buddy only.” jay stated to heeseung. “it could also be because you took her virginity and you have a virginity or corruption kink, weirdo.”

“don’t call my kinks weird.”

imagine to heeseung’s surprise seeing you here, just after he told himself he would try to work up the courage to ask you if you wanted to fuck again.

heeseung knew most girls had high sex drives, they were just easier at hiding it.

heeseung cleared his throat, you looked up to him with a weird look. “yes?” you asked.

“oh, um, i had a question.” he said with a stutter.

the lee heeseung, nervous? no way.

“go ahead.” you nodded politely.

heeseung took in a deep breath, annoyed with himself as he was being nervous. “would you maybe want to fuck again?”

that caught you off guard. “oh, well—,”

heeseung cut you off, “i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i mean, i just, i had fun with you at the party you know, and wouldn’t mind doing it again.” he rambled.

you chucked, heeseung looked at you ears going red. “i’m not laughing at you, i promise. i, um, i was gonna sort of ask you the same thing. i told myself the next time i see you i would, but i didn’t expect it to be so soon and here of all places.” you explained.

heeseung smiled. “you want to fuck again?” he whispered.

you nodded. “i was going to ask you to be fuck buddies, since my friend said that was something to ask you.”

heeseung nodded. “absolutely.”

“it’s just,” you began, twirling the pen in your hand nervously, “i want to be your only fuck buddy in the meantime, heeseung.”

“ok.” heeseung agreed instantly. that was no problem as he’s only been able to think about you. even better, if you only wanted to be fuck buddies with him, no other guy had a chance of getting you to bed.

“really?” your eyes lit up and heeseung nodded. “oh, so, um, when do you want to start?”

“now.” heeseung groaned, putting the blanket he was folding down, and stalked over to you.

your eyes were wide with shock, pen still in your hand, the notebook on the shelf next to you. heeseung grabbed your face in his hands, and leaned down to kiss your lips tenderly.

you kissed him back, soon heeseung’s kisses becoming intense with need. he pulled away, but stayed close to where you could feel his breath against your skin.

“have you been playing with your pussy baby? you shook your head, you itching with need. heeseung groaned, “mhm baby, that pussy is gonna be tight for me again.”

heeseung quickly captured your lips again, pushing you against the nearby wall. he removed his lips, as those and his nose traced down any skin visible to him, and he got on his knees to unbutton your jeans.

“mhm, i know i wanted to eat this pussy baby, but i’m so desperate to have my cock buried in you.” he says, his forehead leaning against your lower belly, his face right in front of your jean covered lower half.

your hand ran through his hair, a smile coming to his face as he pulled your jeans down to your ankles, along with your underwear.

he teased your cunt with his tongue, but quickly got up, cursing to himself for that. you all were in a public place and could be caught anytime.

“lean down baby.” heeseung helped position your body to where is was now leaning against a shelf for support. your chest and head rested against the towels there, as heeseung grabbed your bare ass in his hands.

“heeseung,” you moaned as his finger traced your folds and clit.

“shh baby, we can’t get caught, okay?” heeseung cooed, grabbing your hair in his hands for a makeshift ponytail.

he aligned his tip with your cunt, and slowly pushed in. again, he was met with resistance and tightness, but his mouth dropped open so wide at the pleasurable feeling of you clamping around him.

he had to hold in his moans as well. you buried your face into the towels, keeping the noises from your mouth muffled.

heeseung slowly inched into you, enjoying the way you gripped him, welcoming him in. he began rocking and thrusting, your pussy making noises for him, wetness covering him.

“fuck, i love this pussy.” he moaned quietly, and picked up his pace with the thrusts. the shelves began rocking with your bodies as well, your hands gripping the other items next to you.

heeseung could still hear your muffled moans through the towels, and even got turned on from that.

his hand went down to play with your clit, your orgasm coming close.

he leaned over your back, his body covering yours. his breath tickling against your neck, as he attached his lips to your shoulder and began sucking.

his pace never faltered. “i’m close baby.” heeseung sighed and you nodded in agreement, not trusting your own voice.

soon, you both came with each other, heeseung forgetting to pull out. “fuck, baby, i didn’t pull out.” he groaned against your shoulder.

“s’fine, on the pill.” you mumbled in relief. heeseung stayed buried in you, dick still hard, as he peppered kissed over your neck, shoulder, and cheek. then, he grabbed your chin to lean your head back so his lips met yours for a few pecks.

“so good for me.” he sighed and kissed your ear, before leaning up from you, and removing himself from your pussy.

heeseung helped you clean up and pull your pants and underwear up. you now felt embarrassed at just having sex in public with heeseung.

have you had no shame?

heeseung pulled you in for a kiss. “can’t wait to get you back home to really treat your body right.”

you smiled, “can we not do it in jay’s bed this time?”

[smileysuh]

forget him

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “What if… what if I helped you out a little?” His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs. “Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.”

tw/cw. recent breakup, fingering, Hyuck walks in while y/n is masturbating, masturbation, assisted masturbation, toy/dildo use, overstimulation, dacryphilia, reader has multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, big dick Hyuck, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, talking about y/n's ex while they fuck, marking/claim kink, full/breeding kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 7.1k

🍭 aus. friends to lovers, roommates au, recent breakup, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. When I tell you I need to be demolished by this Hyuck-

Hyuck absolutely hates seeing you like this. 

He’d thought it had been hard seeing you in love with his best friend Mark Lee, but seeing you in the throws of depression after your recent breakup takes the cake for Hyuck when it comes to him having a straight up horrible time.

Obviously, you have it worse, and he’s not trying to contest that fact- he just hadn’t realized that when the thing he’d been hoping for actually came to pass- it would feel this bad. 

In the dark reaches of his mind, he wonders if he’d had something to do with the separation, although, in truth, he knows that’s ridiculous. He’d been as supportive as a friend and roommate could be about you and Mark. He’d forced smiles and words of encouragement when you’d gushed through the talking phase. He’d found ways to ditch the apartment when you and Mark started to get physical, doing his best to give you privacy while getting high as a kite at Lee Jeno’s place to distract himself from the fact that you were getting railed by someone other than him. And now, he supposes, he’s doing his due diligence in making you feel better when you’re at your worst.

Hyuck’s doing the best he can to make things easy for you. He’s set up movie days, and he’s made you ramen. He’s allowed you to shuffle closer to him on the couch, even resting your head on his shoulder any time you start to tear up. He’s paused films to listen to you explain things like “When Mark and I watched this, he would always get so excited when Totoro would show up” or “Mark hated No Face.” 

He wonders if doing a Ghibli marathon is the best idea, given how much you associate it with Mark, but when he’d asked you about it and you insisted you would feel better watching the films, he’d left it at that.

You’re your own person, and Hyuck’s always trusted you to make the best decisions for yourself… even when he doesn’t agree with them.

Cuddled next to you on your living room couch, Hyuck does his best just to be there for you. He ignores the boys’ group chat messages, where other friends are taking care of Mark. As far as Hyuck’s concerned, he’s team you, all the way, and he always has been.

He notices the way you start to shift next to him, pulling away from his shoulder to stretch your arms over your head.

“You good?” Hyuck asks, looking away from the movie to give you his complete and undivided attention.

“Yeah,” you sigh, frowning slightly. “Just tired.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” He studies your face, noticing all the signs of exhaustion- although, to be fair, you’ve been a sleepy wreck of a thing since your breakup two weeks ago.

“I probably should,” you concede, taking another deep breath. “Thanks for making me dinner and watching movies with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hyuck says, flashing you a small smile as he straightens in his seat, reaching for the remote to stop the movie.

“You’ve been so nice since… since the whole Mark thing.” He can see you swallowing back tears, and you reach up to wipe your eye with the sleeve of your hoodie. 

“That’s what friends are for,” Hyuck assures you, although, his attention toward you has always far surpassed that of a friend. It’s a shame you’ve never realized that fact.

“Just… thanks,” you say again, holding open your arms for a hug that Hyuck is more than happy to give you. 

He adjusts on the couch, leaning forward to scoop you into his arms. Your cheek presses to his shoulder and he breathes in the smell of your fruity body wash. He tries his best not to hug you too hard- because if he did, you might actually realize that every time you hug him, he has no true intention of ever letting you go. 

“Sleep well, okay, gorgeous?” he prompts, stroking your hair and using the petname he’d given you far before you’d ever met Mark. “You really need your rest.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him, giving one last gentle squeeze before you pull away.

Hyuck watches you stand up, your hoodie skimming your mid thigh. He knows you’re wearing sleeping shorts under the oversized fabric, but he can’t help but swallow thickly, imagining what it would be like if you were just in panties.

He really has to get his mind out of the gutter, and Hyuck knows that- he’s been trying to, in all honesty he has- but it’s been four years of knowing you, one of living together, and he still can’t manage to keep his thoughts PG. 

With one last small smile, you turn and begin to shuffle to your room.

He misses your lively movements. The first night you’d moved in together, you’d had a small dance party together, and Hyuck’s always been adamant that no one’s hips move like yours do. 

He misses your joy. The way you sparkle when you’re happy. You used to smile like a kid in a candy shop anytime you watched your favourite movies or ate the ramen he’d made for you, but these days, the most you can muster is a small upquirk of the sides of your lips.

Hyuck wants to make you smile again. He’s just not sure how to do it. 

He knows you need time. Time heals all wounds, or so they say. He just wishes he could fast track your recovery.

Your bedroom door shuts and the spell of watching you is broken. Hyuck takes a deep breath, looking around the messy living room. There are blankets and pillows strewn all over, take out boxes from your day inside, tissues from when you’d cried. 

He’s not generally known to be the cleanest man around town, but Hyuck feels that in times like these, the least he can do is keep things tidy. He’s sure you’ll feel better to come out of your room every morning to a nice apartment, so he begins his work of collecting water cups and take away boxes. 

You’ve definitely lost your spark, and Hyuck thinks maybe he has too. He’s used to playing music loudly, using it as energy at all hours of the day, but tonight, while he cleans, he keeps things quiet. His head is full, and his ears are on edge, paying attention to the sounds coming from your room.

In those first days after the breakup, he’d heard you crying a lot, and he’s sure that barging into your room to give you a hug had cheered you up. He’s hoping it won’t be necessary today. 

As much as he loves hugging you, seeing you cry always makes him feel like someone is trying to tear open his chest and clench his heart. It’s an ache he doesn’t enjoy.

When you’d moved in together, he’d decided that as a girl - with monthly girl issues - you should have the bigger room with the connected bathroom, and he listens to the sound of you brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. 

You begin to hum something, and Hyuck realizes it’s the first time he’s heard you sing since your breakup. 

Maybe tonight will be a good night.

Hyuck has moved all the clutter to the kitchen, and he begins to put stuff in the garbage and dishwasher while he listens to you hum. He thinks about the day you met, at uni orientation. He’d never become friends with someone so fast in his life, and when you’d discovered you had three of five classes together- well, he’s never looked back, not for one second.

He wonders how things would be different if he’d ever manned up and told you how he felt- how he feels- how his affection for you has only been growing and growing- 

Hyuck finds himself heading to the fridge and taking out a beer. He hasn’t been drinking much since you and Mark broke up, hasn’t needed the mind-numbing effects of alcohol, so when he takes a large swig, he finds that it immediately takes the edge off. 

He can’t be thinking about wifing you up right now- no matter how much he might wish to.

Although… as he leans against the sink and downs the can, grabbing another, he begins to wonder if offering himself up to you as a distraction really would be the worst thing in the world. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be the way he’d want to start things with you- but maybe he could make you fall in love with him and forget all about Mark Lee. However, in all honesty, he’d probably be risking your friendship. 

He’s played this mind game with himself too many times before, and Hyuck always finds himself at a stalemate. Frustration bubbles up inside and he looks out at the living room, determined to set himself back on the task of cleaning.

Hyuck throws the pillows onto the couch, and he even begins to fold up a blanket, and that’s when he hears a familiar sound.

You’ve never been the type to seek much affection, especially when you’re in your room, so whenever he’s caught you crying, it’s always started with a whimper.

What Hyuck’s just heard was definitely a whimper, and his whole body surges with white-hot, electric energy, his eyes darting to your door. His breath catches, and he tosses the blanket down to the ground, frozen as he waits for another sound of distress. 

A small gasp can be heard under the crack of your door, and Hyuck’s body bolts into action. He’s moving so fast he stumbles a little over his own feet just as he reaches your room, and he wonders if drinking two beers was a good idea. His hand lands on your door, and he knocks aggressively.

“You okay in there, gorgeous?” he calls.

“I’m fine!” you respond, but there’s definitely an edge to your voice. 

He can tell something is wrong- can tell you’re lying to him, and in a split second, Hyuck is making a decision. 

“I’m coming in.”

You let out a small squeak of surprise, tearing your hand away from the toy still lodged inside of you so you can pull the blankets up around your shoulders, jaw dropping as your roommate barges into your room.

“Hyuck!”

He stands in the doorway, studying you, and you can see a look of confusion cross his face. “I thought I heard you crying.”

“I’m not crying!” you insist, core clenching around the dildo. “Get out!” 

Hyuck doesn’t move. “I definitely heard a whimper,” he insists.

Your heart is practically racing in your chest, and you’re very much aware of the pleasurable feeling still thrumming from your core. Cock warming was something you enjoyed doing with Mark, and the fact that you’re cock warming a toy while Hyuck stares at you is having a wholly unexpected effect on your entire body.

“People whimper for all sorts of reasons!” you say dumbly. “Leave!”

Hyuck tilts his head to the side, assessing you again. “You never speak to me like this.”

“You usually don’t just barge in here unannounced!” 

“Yes, I do,” Hyuck points out. “Why’s tonight different?”

“What do you mean-”

“Something is different,” he says, more firmly this time. His gaze dips, taking in the blanket still wrapped tightly around your form. “Wait…” you see the exact moment he realizes what you’re up to, and even from a few feet away, you see the way his pupils dilate. “Are you…”

“Hyuck-” you groan, lifting the blankets to hide your face, hoping he can’t see the shame that’s beginning to consume you.

“You are, aren’t you?” 

“Are what?” you ask, deciding to play dumb.

You can hear him scoff, and you peak from under the blanket just in time to see his signature eye roll. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, something he does when he’s getting annoyed, and you can feel yourself dripping down your dildo. 

He meets your gaze again. “I didn’t hear a vibrator, so let me guess…” You watch him swallow thickly. “The toy’s still inside of you, isn’t it?”

Curse him for knowing you so well.

Curse him for having a dirty mind.

And maybe most of all, curse yourself for being so stupidly turned on that you can’t even deny what he’s just said. All you can do is groan loudly, hiding again. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“Yes!”

You hear him click his tongue. “Come on, gorgeous. We both know I can tell when you lie to me. We’ve been friends for years, you don’t have to be… ashamed about this.”

But shame is exactly what you’re feeling, and his words don’t help at all. 

“Please, just leave,” you sigh, so embarrassed you think you might actually die.

“What if… what if I helped you out a little?”

His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs.  

“Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.” 

“You’re being crazy.” You peak out at him. “We’re roommates- Mark is one of your best friends-”

“I’ve known you longer and I’m loyal to you,” Hyuck insists firmly. “And besides, stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah? Like what?” you can’t help but laugh a little, and the contraction of your stomach muscles pushes the toy slightly out of your core, making you groan at the loss.

From the look that crosses Hyuck’s face, he obviously notices your sound, and you watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. “For one, the fact that you even dated Mark was a little crazy.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“But nice doesn’t fill you up at night. Nice doesn’t make you cum so hard you feel it through your whole body.” Hyuck holds up a hand. “And before you try to tell me Mark was good in bed, remember that I have a room next to yours. Mark is a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean he can fuck. Not the way you deserve.” 

You shift in your bed, sitting up a little to address your roommate. “Yeah? And how do I deserve to be fucked?” 

“You deserve someone who’s going to worship every inch of you. Someone who’s going to make you cum over and over- make you gush so good you’re begging for it, begging to finally get dicked down so hard you can’t even walk after. Someone who makes you cry for all the right reasons.” 

You stare at Hyuck. 

You’re not even sure what to say. 

He’s never talked like this to you, ever- at least, not in your waking hours.

You’ve had dreams about his sharp tongue, his long fingers, and his big cock- but never gave credence to your lustful fantasies. Hyuck’s always just been a friend- 

“Why now?” you find yourself asking. “After all this time-”

“I’m tired of watching you hurt over something I might be able to help you fix.”

“So cock is the fix to a broken heart?” 

“Gorgeous, I think we both know that what I’m offering you is more than cock.”

“Right, I’m guessing tongue and fingers-”

Hyuck gives you an unimpressed look. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“That I’m super into you? That I’ve been into you since we met? That it killed me to watch you be with Mark when I knew you should have been with me?” 

“Hyuck-” you breathe, feeling even more whiplash from these words than his dirty talk.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything about that stupid feels shit, just… just let me take care of you tonight.”

“What if we regret it?” You press your thighs together, keeping the toy just inside of you while you begin to fidget with your blanket. “What if it ruins our friendship?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question for years,” Hyuck admits. “But… after looking at you now- I really don’t think that’s something we have to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m about to make you cum so hard you forget about every other man in your life.”

“Promise?”

He nods. “Promise.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Hyuck lets out a small laugh. “So… you going to lift those covers and let me see what I’m dealing with or…?”

“God,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I call you gorgeous for a reason, don’t I?” Hyuck grins. “Come on, I wanna see.”

You grab at the blankets, taking a deep breath. Then you start to move them off your body.

Your roommate watches your every movement, dipping his head to focus as you lift the fabric covering your feet, then your calves-

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, me neither,” Hyuck admits. “I’ve been waiting so long to see you like this.” 

His words make your stomach erupt in butterflies, and you feel the toy still half wedged in your core. “Should I… should I remove the dildo first?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I wanna see that too.” His eyes meet yours. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so fucking hot, I’m already hard.”

He reaches a hand down to cup the front of his sweatpants, and you realize he’s not lying. You can see the impressive print of his cock pressing against the fabric, and it makes your mouth water. It also gives you the confidence to fully reveal yourself to his hungry eyes, and the moment he sees you, Hyuck lets out a deep groan.

“Shit, gorgeous,” Hyuck says, letting out a deep breath. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined.”

His words make you feel shy, and you close your legs, only for Hyuck to press a knee to the bed, both hands reaching out to prompt your thighs back open. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he warns, and there’s an edge to his tone. He’s still being soft with you, his touch gentle, but there’s an obvious hunger rising inside of him. “Tell me about this toy.”

“Well, I uh…” you search for your words. “It’s one of the first ones I ever bought-”

“It’s small,” Hyuck notes, which is kind of funny considering it’s Mark sized. “Can I use it on you?”

“You want to fuck me with the toy?” You blink at your long term friend and roommate.

“Gotta stretch you out to take something bigger.” Hyuck smirks devilishly, and your pussy throbs- he’s definitely bigger than Mark and the toy still half lodged inside of you. You can’t wait to find out how much bigger. 

“You can-” you bite at your lip, “you can fuck me with it.”

“Good girl,” Hyuck praises you, and you can feel yourself practically dripping around the dildo now.

You hold your breath in anticipation while Hyuck gets settled on the foot of the bed. His warm palms smooth over your thighs, forcing you wider, and then his fingers grab the base of the toy. “Do you like it slow?”

“I think… to start off with?” You feel too hazy to be able to answer questions, and he hasn’t even started with you. “But… when you fuck me, can you go fast, please?”

“Of course, gorgeous. I can do anything you want,” he assures you, applying pressure to the toy so it begins to lodge deeper inside of you. You let out a small sigh and Hyuck looks up at you, grinning. “You’re so wet, babe, making this too fucking easy.”

“It’s not my fault-” you defend yourself, voice shaky. 

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” His smile widens. “Talking dirty gets you going, huh, gorgeous?”

You nod, resting your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of him beginning to work the toy in and out of your pussy. 

“Bet Mark’s dirty talk game was weak,” Hyuck says under his breath.

You don’t have it in you to agree with him, although… he’s correct. Something tells you he knows it too, because he lets out a small chuckle. 

Hyuck’s using his right hand to fuck you with the toy, and his left moves from your thigh. A moment later, his thumb is rubbing gentle circles on your clit and your toes curl from the stimulation. A gentle gasp escapes you and you can practically hear Hyuck smile.

“Feels good?” he prompts.

“So good,” you nod. You need something to hold onto, so you grab at the one piece of clothing on your body, a night shirt, which you lift up your to your abdomen, giving Hyuck more room to work. 

He rubs your clit harder and you let out a whine, feeling the familiar build of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Hyuck tells you, and you can feel his breath on your pussy which makes you twitch. “God, I could watch you squirm like this all night.”

“Please-”

“Please what?” 

You don’t even know. All you know is listening to the squelching sound of the toy going in and out of you while his thumb rubs your clit is driving you insane.

“I want to kiss you,” you decide, realizing Hyuck’s about to make you cum and you haven’t even really gotten a taste of him. 

Hyuck stops what he’s doing immediately, manuevering up the bed so he’s on top of you, one hand pressed to the pillow while he looks down at you.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Your hands explore his shoulders and one snakes into his hair, then you’re tugging his mouth down to your own. Hyuck’s gentle with you at first, but when you go to bite on his lower lip, he groans loudly. His tongue darts out to brush against your own, and the kiss deepens. 

You’re done with your toy. You want to feel him, and you reach between your bodies to remove the dildo, pulling it out and tossing it onto the floor next to the bed.

Hyuck breaks your kiss to look at the wet toy on the ground, and he lets out a small laugh, gaze returning to your own. “Why’d you do that?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah?” His hand slips between your forms, and two digits stroke the length of your pussy, making you moan. “Want me to make you cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, grabbing at the front of his shirt, tugging his mouth back to yours while he buries himself into you knuckle deep.

He strokes your walls, and the feeling is absolutely delightful, especially when he angles his hand, palm pressing to your clit while he seeks out your gspot. 

His lips are hot against your own, and they don’t muffle the sound of pleasure escaping you. 

Hyuck’s a bit of a gamer, but you never really realized his fingers could feel this good- 

“Shit, gorgeous,” he groans, breaking the kiss to move his mouth to your throat, where he lets out deep breaths. “You’re dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m so close-” you confess, gripping his shoulders tighter while he finger fucks you even harder, chasing your release.

“You’ll be a good girl and cum for me, right?” Hyuck prompts, which makes you mewl. “Yeah, you’ve always been such a good girl, gonna be good and cum all over my fingers-”

His words make you throb, and he applies more pressure to your clit with his palm. His lips press kisses to your neck and he finds your sweetspot, making everything feel all the more intense.

You’re on the edge, and you let out a loud gasp, clenching your eyes shut in anticipation.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Come on, I wanna feel you.”

His words make the cord in your stomach snap, and your body is flooded with the pleasure of your release. You feel it everywhere, and it makes you cry out while holding onto him tighter. His hand continues between your thighs, fingers unrelenting, palm heavy on your clit. 

Hyuck works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and pushing at his shoulders, and then he straightens a little, motions stopping while he looks down at you. “Did you enjoy that?”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes a little. “You know I did.”

“Yeah, but you could still stroke my ego a little.”

“Stroke your ego?” You reach for his cock, gripping him through his sweats. “Like this?”

Hyuck lets out a low groan, thrusting forward to meet your hand. “As much as I’d love to watch you jack me off- tonight I’m here to make you feel better, and I’m not anywhere near being done with you yet.”

You’d never realized Hyuck had any self control, and you watch in shock as he gently moves your hand away.

“I’m going to eat you out now,” he tells you, slipping down the bed so he’s on his stomach between your legs. Hyuck spreads you open, gently kissing your inner thigh before looking up at you. “You good with this?”

“Uh huh,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as you prepare yourself for his tongue. “I’m still sensitive though.”

“I’ll go easy on you,” Hyuck promises, pressing a very soft kiss to your clit. “I can be gentle, contrary to popular belief.” 

You can’t help but let out a giggle, but the sound is cut short when Hyuck unexpectedly buries his face between your thighs. His tongue presses into your hole and the feeling has your legs quaking as he adjusts them over his shoulders, trying to dive even deeper.

“Shit, Hyuck-” you whimper, grabbing at his hair.

He’s always been a bit of a liar- maybe you shouldn’t have believed him when he said he’d go easy on you. But… at the same time, the way his nose repeatedly bumps your clit has a fire building in your abdomen again, and you really aren’t even that mad about it.

You can feel Hyuck smile against you, and it’s such a turn on to know he’s enjoying himself while providing you with pleasure. Mark had always been somewhat rigid in your sexual interactions, much more serious than the grinning cheshire cat between your legs now. 

Where Mark had been slow and tentative, Hyuck’s eager and passionate. He switches between lapping at your hole, sucking your clit, and pushing his tongue into you as deep as it can go, licking at your walls and working you up way faster than anyone else ever has in your entire life.

Then he begins to groan, and you realize he’s grinding against the bed-

Is eating you out really that sexy for him? 

You feel another gush of wetness from the thought and your pussy throbs, warning you both that you’re close again. Hyuck responds by adjusting ever so slightly, lips wrapping around your clit while he pushes a hand to your entrance, slipping two fingers inside.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, back arching off the bed while the cord in your stomach is pulled unbelievably tight. 

Hyuck’s fingers twist in and out of your hole, and he licks at your clit in the most sloppy manner- it’s enough to have you exploding, a cry of pleasure escaping you while your core clamps down on your roommate. 

He groans loudly, sinfully, and the vibration against your clit has your legs shaking around his head, orgasm pulsing deep through your entire being. 

You’re practically crying at this point, and you can feel tears even while you clench your eyes shut, taking everything Hyuck’s giving you while moaning like a whore- you’ve never sounded this way, and there’s something almost addicting about the noises being torn out of you.

You know he feels it too, because Hyuck is completely unrelenting. If anything, he’s even more sloppy with the way he worships your pussy, fingers crooking up expertly-

You’re literally gushing around him, and you can feel it, can feel that your bed is going to be ruined after this. But you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is grab at your sheets, crying to the ceiling while your best friend makes you feel pleasure so intense that you can’t even think. 

He’s fulfilled his promise about making you cry for good reasons… and he hasn’t even taken his cock out yet.

You’ve never been this needy in your entire life, and when he pulls away from your core, allowing you to catch your breath, you peak out at him from under wet lashes. 

“You’re literally perfect,” he tells you, voice deep. His pupils are completely blown now and he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

You watch him bring glistening fingers up to his lips, slowly sucking them clean and moaning loudly at the taste of you before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuck, and you’re already crying-” Hyuck sits up, leaning over you and reaching out to brush some of your tears away. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” 

“Hyuck-” you whimper, shocked that you’re choking up.

Your body is still being flooded with emotion and sensations. Your nipples are hard under your shirt and the fabric is becoming uncomfortable, making you more sensitive-

“Going to let me take care of you now, right, gorgeous?” he asks, pinching at your chin and leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Please-” You grab at your shirt and Hyuck follows through by helping you take it off.

You’re now fully revealed to him, and your best friend sits back to appreciate you, letting out a deep breath. 

“Mark’s so fucking stupid for letting you go,” Hyuck says.

His words are bitter sweet, and in your overstimulated state, you find your lower lip wobbling as you hold back a choked sob. 

“Shh,” Hyuck whispers, reaching out to cup your cheek. “It’s better to be with someone who knows your worth, like I do. I’d never fucking treat you the way he did- I promise.”

The look on his face is so intense, and you know he’s telling you the truth.

Your body relaxes a little- Hyuck really is such a good guy, and what he’s doing for you helps more than he’ll probably ever know. He’s making you feel sexy again, making you feel needed and wanted and maybe even loved. 

“Besides,” Hyuck clears his throat, taking off his own shirt, “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about that asshole.”

You can’t help but laugh sadly, wiping at your own face to get rid of the last tears while you watch Hyuck move to work on his sweats. 

When he pushes the waistband down, revealing his cock, you think you might actually faint.

You’ve always thought Hyuck was a pretty guy, sexy of course, but pretty too- and his cock? It’s as stupidly pretty as the rest of him.

He must be a little over seven inches, and he’s girthy too-

You can feel yourself practically drooling as you look at him, and Hyuck smirks at your reaction. “Sure you’re ready for this, gorgeous?”

“If you don’t fuck me I think I might die.”

He laughs at your words. “Then I guess I better fuck you.”

“Should we…” you bite at your lip. “Do we need condoms?”

“Babe,” Hyuck scoffs. “Babe- we’re both clean, right? And I know you’re on birth control… do you want me to wear a condom? I always kind of imagined you’d be the kind of girl who wants to be full.”

How many times has he imagined this, you wonder. 

But he’s right. You want him to fill you up like no one else has.

“Come here,” you say, holding open your arms while he kicks his sweats off.

Hyuck’s hands find the pillows by your head and he slots himself between your legs, lips pressing against your own.

You thread your fingers through his soft brown hair, kissing him eagerly. You want to get lost in him, and it’s easy to do that when he begins to rut his cock against your pussy, bumping your clit and making your thighs shake around his hips.

“Just fuck me,” you groan, already feeling so unbelievably needy.

Hyuck smirks against your lips, pulling away to look down at you with mischief in his eyes. “You’re so fucking hot it’s insane.”

“Then why aren’t you inside me yet?”

He moans a little, dipping his head to look between your bodies while he reaches for the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole. “If it hurts, I’ll stop.”

You’re about to scoff and tell him he’s not that big when he pushes his head into your entrance and a gasp leaves your lips. The stretch is very real, and you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on getting your body to relax.

You can practically feel your pussy struggling to make room for him, and even though you’re as wet as a fucking slip and slide, it’s still a little difficult for him to push in inch after inch-

“Fuck,” you whimper, and Hyuck rewards you by burying his face in your throat, peppering your skin in kisses. The soft feeling of his lips is enough to distract you from the intrusion opening up your pussy, and soon his hips are flush against your own, making you both release groans of pleasure.

“You ready for this?” Hyuck asks.

“God, yes-” 

He reaches for your hand, pressing it to the pillow and threading your fingers. Then he kisses you softly-

When he begins to rut into you, it’s anything but soft.

Hyuck’s motions are calculated and rough, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you that has you squeezing his hand. You’d be cussing if it weren’t for his hot lips against your own, lips that have gotten increasingly demanding, his tongue stroking yours while you gasp.

It feels amazing- like, truly. You’ve never been fucked like this, and he’s only just started.

He stops kissing you, breathing heavily while he fucks you even harder. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You’re literally balls deep inside of me,” you nearly laugh. “You can ask me anything.”

“I’m just,” Hyuck groans, squeezing your hand. “Did you ever think about me when you were fucking Mark?”

Your pussy clenches at the question, from shock or hornyness, you’re not sure. 

“I-”

“You did, didn’t you?” Hyuck grins. “Don’t think I didn’t just feel you get super fucking tight around me- God, you are dirty like me, aren’t you, gorgeous? I thought… thought that when you started dating soft boy Mark, maybe you were more vanilla, but that’s not you, is it?”

“No-”

“You like to get fucked, properly, don’t you, babe?” Hyuck continues.

“Fuck, yes-”

“And Mark didn’t know how to do that for you, did he? Mark didn’t know how to make you wet like this, didn’t know how to make you cry or scream or beg-”

You can’t bring yourself to verbally slander Mark while Hyuck’s fucking you like a wild man, so instead you just shake your head. Your confirmation makes Hyuck grin, and he fucks you even harder, the whole bed rocking while the sound of skin on skin fills the room. 

“You know what? Enough about Mark. Forget him. You don’t need him anymore.” Hyuck’s mouth is hot on your neck and his words make you shiver as he moves to suck your earlobe. “You only need me. You only need me, I promise.” 

Hyuck lets go of your hand and you’re about to argue with him about it when he shoves his fingers between your bodies, rubbing at your clit while he fucks you.

“Hyuck!” you whimper, writhing beneath him.

“That’s it gorgeous. I wanna ruin you for anyone else. After this, no one’s going to make you cum like I can.” He’s groaning now, voice all breathy and super sexy- “If I make you cum three times the first time I fuck you, that means you’re mine right?”

You moan loudly at the idea, grabbing his shoulders while he works you closer and closer to yet another orgasm that you have no doubt will be as mind blowing as the first two. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” Hyuck says, voice gruffer now. “Fuck, gorgeous, I want you so badly- just say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp when he applies more pressure to your clit.

“That’s my girl,” Hyuck smiles against your neck. “You’ll let me mark you right? Let me suck some pretty bruises into your skin so every time you look in the mirror you know your roommate fucks you right-”

His tongue darts out, licking a stripe of your throat before his lips press to your sweet spot. He suctions his mouth onto you, teeth grazing your skin and causing you to cry out while you move your hands to tug on his hair.

Hyuck lets out a sinful groan when you pull gently on his soft brown strands, but he doesn’t let up. He’s entirely focused on you and your pleasure, cock continuing to rearrange your insides while his fingers abuse your nearly overstimulated clit-

“I’m so close-” you whimper, eyes closed as your body once again approaches the edge with startling speed. 

“Yeah?” Hyuck moves away from your neck and you get the sense that he’s looking down at you. “Gonna cum on this cock and let me fill you up? Gonna let me breed you like the good girl you are? Make you so stupidly full that you’re fucking dripping?”

“Yes, fuck, Hyuck, please-” You’re on the verge of tears again, whole body thrumming with energy-

“Then cum for me. Let me fucking feel you.” 

You twitch from his words, and then you’re falling over the edge, gasping and clawing at him while you’re overcome with ecstasy. You’re not sure if it’s because this is your third orgasm, or if it’s because his cock is balls deep inside of you, but this orgasm is the most intense of them all.

You’re reduced to a completely primal side of yourself, brain short circuiting while your body takes over. There are no thoughts, only the attempt to process all the pleasure that’s flowing through you like a river that’s broken through a dam. 

The sounds escaping you are unlike anything that has ever come from your vocal cords, and Hyuck is also cumming, groaning loudly as he presses his lips to yours. His tongue is hot as it licks at your bottom lip, and his thrusts are erratic. 

He takes his hand away from your clit in favour of finding yours again, fingers locking while he squeezes you. You can feel the passion radiating off of him, can feel that this won’t be a one time thing and you both know it.

Hyuck takes care of you through your orgasms until you’re both finished, and his motions begin to slow until he’s simply half laying on top of you, his kisses much more gentle as you gasp into each others mouths. 

His hips are flush against your own, keeping his cum inside of you while you make out. His body is warm and it almost feels like a security blanket draped across your own. Hyuck’s fingers are still tangled with yours, and it feels nice just to be holding someone’s hand again.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” Hyuck groans, pulling away from your lips, “if we keep kissing I might have to fuck you again, and I don’t think you could take another orgasm.”

“Not tonight,” you agree, blinking up at your roommate. 

It’s like you’re seeing him in a new light, and you assess the soft details of his features. He really is a beautiful man.

“And we ruined your bed,” Hyuck says with a grin. “You were squirting earlier and your sheets are too wet to sleep in, so I guess that means you’re coming to my room tonight.”

“You want me to sleep with you?” you nearly laugh.

“I’d honestly be offended if you didn’t.” He lets go of your hand, pushing himself off of you. “I didn’t get to touch your tits at all, and I’d like to have something to grab onto when we sleep.”

“God, you’re such a menace,” you giggle, pushing at his chest.

“You love it,” Hyuck insists, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Come on, we should shower.”

“So we’re showering together now too? Weren’t you the guy who said Mark was being clingy by wanting to see me every day when we started dating?”

“It’s clingy when Mark does it,” Hyuck notes. “When I do it, it’s endearing and charming and sexy-”

“Sure it is,” you say sarcastically, shaking your head at him.

“What happened to my good girl?” Hyuck teases. “If you keep talking back, I might be tempted to ruin you in the shower.”

Now that you’re thinking about it, that doesn’t actually sound like the worst thing in the world.

“Fine, let’s go,” you concede, letting out a sigh.

There’s so much you could say about what has just taken place, but one thing you can state with confidence is that you do feel better. Hyuck had made you forget about Mark, if only for a short while before he started shit talking his friend- but, his words of slander hadn’t actually made you mad or sad or upset- they’d actually kind of had the opposite effect.

Life will go on after Mark Lee, and Hyuck’s made you realize that.

In fact, maybe your life after Mark will go on with Hyuck. 

Maybe it was always meant to be this way. 

You’re too tired to think about these big ideas in detail tonight, not after everything that’s just happened. Instead, you allow yourself to live in the moment, allow your roommate to take care of you the way he always has.

For now, this is more than enough. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm back in my Hyuck feels again

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🔮 preview. “So perfect,” Hyuck tells you, reaching his hands up to cup your breasts.  Before he can dive in, however, you press the ice pack to his face again and he winces below you. A scowl forms, and he glares into your eyes. “Maybe I don’t like it when you take care of me.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, thigh riding, multiple reader orgasms, dirty talk, praise, claim kink, boob worship, big dick Hyuck, sex in on the living room couch, physical altercation between new boy and ex, overstim, holding off an orgasm, cumming together, light spanking, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe .

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

“Dude,” Jeno sighs, staring at the man sitting on his couch. “You did not-”

“Except that I did,” Hyuck smirks. “You should be happy for me.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to Mark after you tell him you fucked his ex?” Renjun asks, narrowing his eyes at their naughtiest friend. 

“Actually,” Hyuck sighs, leaning back against the couch, “I think we shouldn’t tell Mark, not yet at least.”

“So now you’re making us all culpable in your bullshit,” Renjun groans loudly, rolling his eyes. 

Hyuck gaze shifts from the angry aries to Jaemin, who’s yet to say anything since Hyuck’s big reveal. “You’re cool with this, aren’t you?”

“I mean…” Jaemin cocks his head to the side, “you have wanted to be with her for years-” 

“See, Jaemin gets it!” Hyuck grins, eyes turning to his part time gym buddy next. “And Jeno? You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

“Mark is not going to be happy about this,” Jeno frowns.

“And I wasn’t happy when he started dating my roommate crush,” Hyuck states, “or when he broke up with her unexpectedly.”

“Don’t lie,” Renjun scoffs, “we all know you probably celebrated when they ended things.”

“Only a little,” Hyuck confesses, grinning again. “Okay but for real,” his expression turns serious, “guys, I think I love her.”

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@darkdayelixer - @nctevia

[writingsbytee]

HE'S NOT YOU - AARON PIERRE X BLACK FEM (AFAB) READER

WARNINGS: 18+; minors don’t interact 

PAIRING: Aaron x Lauren, “Lo” (reader)

SUMMARY: You and Aaron are roommates and he gets jealous when you get hit on by a client. It switches POV’s throughout, so if that’s something you don’t enjoy, this might not be the one for you. 

TROPES: friends to lovers; mutual pining; soft-dom; use of pet names; mostly a lot of dialogue and fluff

WORD COUNT: 3,611

A/N: Ok y’all created a monster! I’ve been hooked reading what everyone’s been writing about Aaron. You guys are so creative! I’m a little sensitive about my writing because I’m just getting into it but I do accept constructive criticism/feedback. Happy reading! Muah <3 p.s. this isn’t proofread.

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Lauren?!” Aaron shouts entering your shared condo. He was so excited, Aaron got the call not too long ago that he’d just landed a major project. It's probably the biggest one he’s ever done so far. On his way home to share the good news, he picked up your favorite Indian takeout to celebrate.

Eyes frantically searching the common area, Aaron moved his search deeper into your home. ‘Where is she?’ he thought to himself. Finally, making it to your bedroom door he knocked twice. When he got no response after about 30 seconds he tried twisting the doorknob—the gentle click alerting him that the door was unlocked.  Aaron peeked his head in the door, swiveling from left to right looking for you. 

He could hear the shower now, and your gentle humming some song that you’ve been singing around your home for days. Aaron let out a gentle sigh before retreating out the door. That is before something on your bed caught his eye. Not thinking, Aaron pushed your door open and barged into your room. The black lingerie set with matching garter laid flat on your bed as if it took you all day to find the perfect set. 

Aaron was at war with his emotions. On one hand, he was turned on. The idea of his sweet, innocent Lauren on her knees waiting for him wearing this was almost too much to think about. On the other hand, he was pissed. Who was she wearing this for? Where is she going? Aaron reached out to touch the material. The lace was soft and delicate in his hands like it had been well taken care of.  How was he supposed to even look at you knowing you had this on under your clothes?

Aaron’s attention turned back to your bathroom door as he heard the water shut off. Quickly exiting your room he made it back to the kitchen to start unpacking the dinner he bought for you both. It was getting harder and harder for him to hide his true feelings about you. You both had met right out of college, completely on a whim. Aaron was looking for a roommate and posted an ad online. When you replied, you had no idea what’d be in store for you.

“Aaron you’re home!” You shouted as you made your way into the kitchen. You looked fucking phenomenal in your all-black ensemble. Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off you, figure accentuated in your slacks and button-up. Hair styled impeccably in a messy but neat low bun. Looking like a boss bitch in your power suit had Aaron a bit turned on.

“Don’t tell me you’re meeting a client,” Aaron groaned. He should’ve known that after seeing what you had laid out in the bed. You’re a PR agent for a few celebrities and big-wig politicians but you’d been going back and forth recently with some cocky CEO asshole. He’s been giving you the run-around, pitting you and another agent against each other. When you finally drew your line and decided that the money wasn’t worth it, your client had his team calling you nonstop. 

“Just a quick dinner. Put your shoes on and come with me. I’ll pay for all your drinks,” you persuade batting your eyelashes at him.  How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that?

“Fine but we’re taking my car,” Aaron says. You finally take notice of the dining room. Table set with candles and low lighting. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” you ask as you spin around to look at your roommate.

Aaron takes on a sheepish expression, “I had some good news, and I wanted to celebrate with my best girl.”

Your heart warms at the boyish expression on Aaron’s face. Then you realize what he must be celebrating. 

“Wait! You got the part didn’t you!?”, your heart rate accelerates as your excitement gets the best of you. 

“I got the call today,” Aaron grins, all 32 of those perfect teeth on display. You let out a squeal before launching yourself into his arms. 

You begin to smother his face in kisses. 

“I’m so proud of you! You worked so hard for this opportunity Aaron. This was meant to be! I knew you had it in the bag! You have to come out with me now! We’re going to ‘the Flamingo Room’, it just opened.”

Aaron feels his face warm, “Nah, I don’t want to get in the way. You’re going there for work, not to party”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not taking no for an answer Aaron. If I have to drag your big ass out of here myself you’re coming with me. This meeting should be no longer than an hour, just finalizing a few details in my contract. Please come, I want to celebrate you.”

Aaron looks down at you, a small smirk forming, “How long do I have to freshen up?”

A small squeak leaves your lips as you run towards his room, “Forty-five minutes! Go shower, I’m picking out your outfit!”

A small chuckle leaves Aaron’s lips as he watches you dash down the hall. Tonight is the night, he’d decided. He would finally tell you how he felt about you. You were the first person he wanted to tell his good news to. The first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thing before bed. How could he not fall in love with you? You’re beautiful, successful, a comedic genius, had a body to die for.  He knows you’d caught him staring at that round plump ass more times than he could count.

Aaron had his hand on your lower back as he led you two into the lounge. 

“If it wasn’t obvious, you look beautiful princess,” Aaron said looking down at you. Your cheeks warmed a shy smile forming on your lips. Doesn’t he know that he can’t say these things to you? You’d been hopelessly in love with your roommate for almost as long as you two had been living together. Did he know that? Obviously not.

“Thanks, big guy,” you say, kissing his cheek and wiping the excess lipgloss off. Aaron loved it when you doted on him like that. He didn’t want you to wipe the gloss off his cheek, he wanted to wear it like a badge of honor.

You flag the bartender giving her your card to start a tab.  “Anything that big guy wants just put it on my tab, thanks gorgeous,” you said winking at the bartender. Not that she noticed, she was too busy staring at Aaron. Not that you can blame her he looks fucking delicious in his all-black ensemble, the semi-sheer button-up being the star of the show. You could see your client waving at you from across the room. Putting a finger up to signal ‘one minute’ you turn to Aaron.

“Ok, I shouldn’t be too long. He’s only getting an hour and fifteen minutes, and then I’m all yours.”

“Mm I like the sound of that, hurry back,” Aaron said smirking over the rim of his glass, which got to him surprisingly fast.

You feel your cheeks warm, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips before muttering a goodbye and heading to your client. You had to get your head on straight, mind turning to mush whenever Aaron was around. In your mind, you decided that you were finally going to tell him how you felt about him. You wanted him like you’d never wanted a man before. Not wanting to disrupt the bond you two already had, but something had to give. 

“Lauren, can you hear me?” Your client said. 

Snapping back to reality you plastered a fake smile. 

“Yes Charlie, I’m listening. Just enjoying the view,” you say glancing toward Aaron again. He looked so fucking sexy leaning against the bar. With his 6’3 frame and impressive build he towers over most people. 

“So have you read over the file I gave you?” you ask taking a sip of the red wine he’d ordered. It was strong and bitter, which wasn’t your taste, but you were being polite. 

“Yeah, everything seems in order. Legal finally agrees with all the changes you’ve proposed. I have it ready to sign”, Charlie says. 

“Great!”, You beam. You could sign and get back to Aaron. You wanted to let loose and have fun, you’d been working nonstop with finalizing your contract and a break is within your reach. After signing, you slid the contract back over to Charlie. You glance back in Aaron’s direction, a small frown forming on your lips as you see the bartender flirting with him. A small huff leaves your lips as you re-focus on your client. 

“So we’ll be spending a lot of time together? You better get used to seeing this ugly mug” Charlie asks with a smirk on his face. Charlie was fine, the best way to describe him would be a Paul Walker doppelgänger. He’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and has recently had to have a change in PR firms due to a conflict of interest. 

“Me or someone else from my team at the firm,” you say with an awkward smile. Charlie’s fine that’s not the issue, the issue is standing across the lounge looking like Scar personified. Aaron shoots you a small smirk before mouthing ‘Hurry up!’. You bite your lip to contain your grin, you were so far gone for this man. 

“I’d prefer you if I’m being honest, not too often my PR agent is so easy on the eyes,” Charlie smirks, topping off your glass. 

“Oh Charlie ever the charmer,” you squeeze out a fake laugh. Ok, it was time to end this meeting now.

“Well, if you have no other questions or concerns I have a personal obligation I need to get to”, you say rising slowly. Charlie shoots out of his chair coming to your side to pull the remainder of your chair out. 

“Of course! My driver’s right outside. Walk me out?” He asked offering you his arm. You finish your drink before grabbing your purse and his arm. Leading you two outside. You sneak a glance in Aaron’s direction to see him with an annoyed frown on his face. Charlie guides you the rest of the way out of the club, you two approaching a blacked-out suburban. You spot Charlie’s driver get out to open his door. He stops short turning towards you.

“I look forward to working more closely with you,” Charlie said grabbing my hand. He brought it up to his lips, placing a kiss there. 

You open your mouth to reply but before you can an arm snakes around your waist. 

“Hey, baby you almost finished?” Aaron's voice takes you by surprise as his hand spreads across your hip. 

Your eyes widened as you looked up at your usually gentle giant.

“Just about. Aaron this is my new client Charlie. Charlie this is Aaron, my boyfriend”, the lie slips so easily from your lips. It feels natural. 

“Oh hey man, nice to meet you. I’m a big fan,” Charlie says reaching his hand towards Aaron. They shake and an awkward silence settles among you all. 

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer than I have to. You guys have a good night. Nice to meet you Aaron,” Charlie has a slightly frightened look on his face as he retreats toward his car. We watch him get in and drive away before you spin in Aaron’s arm, an accusing smirk on your face.

“You couldn’t wait five more minutes?” you asked chuckling slightly.

“Nah, motherfucker was getting too handsy. He needed to know his place.”

You were barely paying attention to what he was saying. Aaron’s chest is puffed out, his face in that beautiful scowl you love, and his voice has dropped a pitch. Oh god, he’s hot when he’s being all possessive. 

“What’s the matter? You jealous big guy?”, you ask looking up at him.

Aaron looks down at you, something flashes in his eyes.

“You know what? Yeah, I was getting pretty pissed off at watching him make googly eyes at you and you laugh at all his jokes. I don’t want to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you anymore. You can’t deny our chemistry. When I got the call today, you were the first person I thought of calling. I’m sorry if I jumped in and messed up the end of your deal, I was just tired of seeing him touch you,” Aaron exhales his face softening. 

“I wish you’d told me this sooner. We could’ve been dating by now! I never wanted Charlie Aaron, he’s not you” You laughed launching yourself into his arms. 

“So I take it you feel the same way?”, he’s smirking down at you, gaze lingering on your lips.

“You bet your sweet ass I do. Surprised I didn’t give myself away,” you say rolling your eyes playfully. 

“ I should’ve said something to you sooner, you’re right. I just would rather have you as my friend than nothing at all. Come on let’s go inside, we still need to celebrate”, Aaron places a kiss on the corner of your lips before grabbing your hand and leading you back inside. 

You were on cloud nine. That all happened so quickly that it seemed too good to be true. You forgot who you were dealing with, Aaron is so emotionally intelligent and articulate with his thoughts. Effective communication was such a turn-on for you. You allowed Aaron to lead you inside, turning your brain off.

You loved the fact that Aaron’s a real man, no coaching, no faking, just a real man. He knows how to communicate, he’s thoughtful, caring, and sweet. He never lets you walk on the same side as traffic. Always seem to know what you need before you know it yourself. He’s always been in-tune with you and your emotions and vice versa. 

Aaron’s heart rate hadn’t slowed down yet. He was scared shitless that you were going to reject him. When he saw the way your eyes lit up when he made his confession he didn’t know why he was so scared in the first place. He’s in love with you. Is he going to tell you that now? No, probably not, soon though. Now he’s just going to enjoy the night and hopefully finish it with his face in between your thighs.

You wanted Aaron. Your back pressed against his front as you two danced. Aaron’s hand snaked around your waist pulling you closer, the action making your tummy flutter. 

You spun in his arms taking in the tall drink of water in your arms. “You look so fucking sexy in your outfit. I did a good job”

Aaron tilts his head back, a bark of laughter leaving his lips. “Thank you, princess. I love being dressed by you.”

Your cheeks warmed and a soft smile formed on your face.

“Yeah? you like it when I call you that don’t you baby?” Aaron asks his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. Your mind goes blank, did he just..

“Answer Daddy when he asks you a question princess,” Aaron says his voice taking on that low rattle that does shameful things to your imagination. You look up at him, this Aaron looks completely different from the Aaron you arrived with. Pupils blown wide, eyes the color of a foggy Oregon forest, and his lips partially upturned into a devious smirk. This man looks like sex.

You nod slowly, “Yes Daddy,” you whisper. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the atmosphere in the club but you’d do anything right now to please this man. 

Aaron hums happily, “That’s my good girl. You look so pretty tonight, you wanted us to match huh?”

“Mhm, I love that shirt on you, it brings out your muscles. You couldn’t be sexier if you tried,” you said rubbing your hands up and down his arms. 

“Mmm, trying to sweet talk me, princess?” he asks pulling you closer. You had to crane your neck to look up at him. Even in your heels, your 5’3 frame was dwarfed by his size.  You loved how big he was, but he didn’t show it. His size is a byproduct of his commitment to his health and well-being. 

“Maybe I am. Who can blame me? You’re the most handsome man here, and that’s just looks. Nobody here knows how funny, sweet, caring, emotionally articulate -,” you were abruptly cut off by Aaron pressing his lips to yours.  It was like the world stopped. Of course, you’d imagined kissing Aaron but that was nothing compared to the real thing. His lips are as soft as they look, providing the perfect amount of pressure. A soft whimper leaves your lips as Aaron’s hand grips your waist. Aaron pulled away and you chased his lips drunk on the feeling of kissing him. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he chuckles. You look up at him a little dazed. 

“C’mon baby, let’s get out of here. I’m ready to have you all to myself,” Aaron leads you back to the bar to close out your tab (of course he gave his card to the bartender the minute you turned away) before heading out.

You can feel the charged energy between you both as you leave the lounge. You feel like a kid on Christmas, waiting and waiting for Santa to come and now that he’s here you’re ready to unwrap your present. Aaron opens your door and helps you in, the 3 glasses of wine you had finally catching up to you. You’re not drunk, just a tiny bit buzzed. Butterflies driving monster trucks are roaming around in your belly. You can smell the citrus and sandalwood of Aaron’s cologne and you hum happily.

“You smell so good,” you sigh whimsically.

Aaron reaches across you to buckle you in and chuckles, “Thank you, princess. Let’s get you home yeah?” You nod before leaning up and placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah Daddy, take me home.”

“Fuck, I need you princess,” Aaron groans as he pushes you through the front door with his lips attached to your neck. 

You turn in his arms, deft fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “I would rip this off you but, you look so good in it,” you smirk up at him.

“Sweetheart, you’re testing me here. I’m trying to be patient but keep it up and watch what happens,” Aaron said pupils blown so wide his eyes look like a storm cloud. You take your fingers off his top before taking a small step back. Your fingers now coming up to your own blouse. Fingers working through the buttons one by one. 

Aaron leans up against the wall biting his lip as he watches you undress for him. 

“Slower,” he says kicking off his shoes. 

Your blood ran hot, you had no idea how to be sexy. Lacking in sexual experience, your last boyfriend breaking up with you because it, you were now in your head more than ever. Fingers hovering over your third button you begin second guessing yourself. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if you’re not as experienced as he likes?

The negative thoughts start swirling around in your mind so rapidly, you don’t even realize when Aaron makes his way over to you. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hmm?”, Aaron reaches up to your blouse his hand gently moving yours aside. 

You shake your head avoiding eye contact, “Nothing.”

Aaron grabs your chin tilting your head back to look into his eyes, “Lauren if we do this, I need to know what you’re thinking, and I need you to be honest with me. I’m not here to judge you so tell me. What’s got your face all frowned up?”

“What if I’m not what you expect? When I take my clothes off. You work with models, beautiful actresses. My body doesn’t look like theirs”, you say all your insecurities spilling out. Your hands clasped in front of you wringing them together (a nervous trait you have).

Aaron’s face hardens, he couldn’t believe you’d say those things about yourself. How couldn’t you see how unbelievably sexy you are. Now he was going to have to show you.

“Lo, do you trust me?”, Aaron asks. 

You nod your head giving him a positive answer, “Baby, of course I do.”

A sinister smirk takes over Aaron’s face, “Then be a good girl and go upstairs, take everything off except for your underwear, and wait for me on my bed.”

GOTCHA!!! If y'all want a part 2 PLEASE like and comment. As always constructive critisism is appreciated but, please be gentle.

@simplyzeeka

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

[luvlyycy]

a/n — hiiii , >< . the bed pic is YOUR bedroom fyi. also, this is a cheating fic cus reader has a bf (toji) n yknow blahblahblah blah. 'n kuna smokes. (its bad for your lungs, i dont even smoke lol) also kuna is bi curious lmao. chubby reader !!!!

♡ ──╮꒰ Summary ! ꒱ , , , Your boyfriend bugs Sukuna. It isn't the fact that he dislikes Toji, he actually really (reallllyyyyy) likes him— but it's the fact that he's fucking you and Sukuna isn't.

He thinks it's been around five years since Toji had been his roommate, not bothering to actually pinpoint the years. He tolerates Toji, and by that I mean, they are really good friends. They'll smoke together whenever the chance arises— maybe go out for a drink as well. Sukuna really liked the guy, seriously. Although, there was one thing about him that really ticked him off.

Toji was a whore.

That's not said lightly, I mean fuck, the guy already got a kid. Every single fucking night there was some curvy hyper-feminine bimbo latched onto his roommate's arm. He would always hear the stupid fucking moaning, or cringe-worthy screams of a girl who watched way too much porn. That's not to say Sukuna didn't get his fuck on every now and then, but Toji was on another level. He's shocked his dick hasn't broke. He started to notice that there was one girl in particular who showed up more than the others, sometimes multiple times in a row.

Pretty girl, he thought, she doesn't moan like the others, not over dramatic, dresses cute, likes pink- you were really his type. Eventually during one of the smoke sessions between him and Toji, he brought it up.

"So," Sukuna started, sliding a hand through his hair as he sniffed, "you datin' that new bitch?" he chuckled out as he turned to his black-haired buddy who was taking a quick hit from the blunt before turning his head.

"Yeah, think so. Girl said she love me." he lets out a soft 'tch' noise in amusement, smoke exiting out from his mouth as he did so. He handed the bud over, watching how Sukuna's lips curled upward-

"She's pretty. Like, real cute type shit." he laughs as he grabs the blunt from Toji, placing it in his mouth and taking a short breath in, blowing out smoke afterwards.

"Her pussy's good too."

"Ah?" Sukuna let out, leaning his head back against the couch, his mind unfortunately wandering. Was it really? You probably have a tight pussy, maybe creamy. You'd look cute squirting. He smiles to himself before quickly frowning. He's only seen you in passing, he doesn't even know your name. The only words exchanged between the two of you were hello's and bye's.

'ding!'

Toji looks at his phone, seemingly reading a message, "Speak of the devil," he starts, causing Sukuna to glance over, "she wants me to come over for dinner. Said I could bring ya. You tryna come?"

He takes a moment, thinking before his mouth spoke before he could think, "Sure.".

That's how it started, seeming to be a routine of some sort, you would either cook or order dinner and invite them both over for movies- but, Sukuna had couch duty. Every night he would watch you cutely drag Toji to your bed room, sparkling lights catching his eyes for just a mere second before the door shut and your giggling died out. Like clockwork, he'd think, you would start moaning, squealing, whining, whimpering- it drove him crazy. Unlike the other girls Toji was into, you seemed to actually have a brain, seemed to actually register that your real moaning was fucking magnificent. He would be able to hear your soft sobs, 'what if we wake s'kuna?' , slurring over your words.

That would be the only time you said his name, the rest would be Toji. Some nights he would find himself pathetically pawing at his cock in his pants, it fucking hurts to be this hard, he thinks.

"Look at ya, creaming all over my cock. Ya like that? Yeah?"

Sukuna shut his eyes, pulling his pants down just below his heavy aching balls, grunting as he grabs hold of his throbbing dick.

"Mhhh, fuuuck— yes, yes, fucking love it. Oh godd."

You sounded so breathless, in such bliss. He moves his hand up and down, stroking his length as he pictured he was the one making you sound like that- he was the one making you cream on his cock. He let your name slip pass his pierced lips, as he circles his fist to match the pace he heard. Hard, fast, and rough.

"G'nna cum.." he mumbles, hearing a soft 'me too' from behind your door, he matches the routine by painting his abdomen white, muscles tense as he slams his head against the couch.

Fuck my life, he thinks.

Those nights were more often then not, but he wouldn't pay it any mind- in his eyes he were a measly cuck. That word hanging over him like a L on his forehead.

He's memorized your place by now, typically staying in the kitchen or living room— the kitchen happens to be his favorite. Even though sometimes you cook, you usually make him do it, saying when he's high he makes better food. It's cute 'n all, but it pulls at his heart— you like eating his food. He'll watch you eat his food, your cute eyes bright as you chomp, squishy cheeks full of food he made.

Stupid, he thinks as he sits beside Toji, blunt between his fingers as he stares at the ceiling— the ceiling is white, it accompanies your light pink decor.

"You look fucked." he hears Toji laugh out beside him, his eyes are half-lidded and he has a lopsided grin on his mouth per usual— scar on his lip stretching.

"Yeah?" Sukuna hazily replies moving his hand over to the other male's, passing the blunt. Toji fully grins, watching as Sukuna's eyes follow his tongue when he licks his lips, "Yeah.".

Sukuna watches as Toji places the blunt in his mouth, still looking at his so-called buddy, he sucks in a breath— taking his time to let out a quick groan as he does so.

Sukuna places his fingers subtly on Toji's bicep, pupils blown out— "You're fucking hot." .

Toji snickers, holding in smoke before grabbing Sukuna's cheek, he opens his mouth and lets the smoke roll out before chuckling afterward— Sukuna breathes in the smoke through his nose, eyes fluttering shut before opening when Toji releases him.

Toji stretches his arms out in front of him, " 'ight , let's clean this shit up 'fore she get back 'n whoop my ass." he turns his head towards the dazed man beside him, grinning again.

"Yeah, let's do that."

He doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with him. Is it Toji or you? He didn't even know he liked Toji like that— he was just high. Yeah, just high. He spends time cleaning up all the bud and freshening up the place before you get back, and when you do Toji kisses you on your glossy plump lips that Sukuna wish he could kiss too.

" Mind stayin' wit Sukuna for the day, baby?" he says, placing his hands on your waist— thumbs massaging your skin. "Why? Where you off to?" you frown as you hold your shopping bags at your side, squinting at your boyfriend.

"G'nna workout, relax." he laughs as he turns to Sukuna, who's seemingly beginning to sober up— you glance at him too, smiling as you look up at Toji, "Okay, don't be long alright? Or I'm whoopin' yo ass." you giggle, placing a chaste kiss to Toji, muttering 'love you' against his lips before he says it too.

You hop over to your couch, sitting down with a soft 'unf' before setting your bag in your lap as Toji gets ready to leave. Sukuna looks at you, silent— he's quietly taking in your beauty, your skirt leaving your thighs exposed, pretty pink nails holding onto your bag.

"Hey," you start.

"Ah??" he replies.

"Can you hold my bag for a sec? Bein' all dolled up is tirin'." you stifle a small giggle as you hold out your bag towards the man beside you, fingers adorned with silver rings grab onto the bag.

After you get up, it takes you a few minutes to unwind and get undressed— during that, Sukuna stares at the bag that you previously had in your lap, which is now in his. Whatever's in it is soft, he pictures a plushy— maybe a cat? Girls like cats. He uses pointer-finger and thumb to spread the bag open, glancing in it.

He spots earrings, necklaces, and— ah a plushie, a cat. It's a tiger. He'd grin, sharp canines mocking the plushie's as he did so. He places two fingers on the small toy's cheeks, squishing— it is.. kind of cute.. he frowns. Squish, squish. Squish, squish. His lips curl into a small smile, continuing his antics until he's snapped out of it—

"You can have it if you want, Kuna." you giggle, hips swaying as you walk towards the couch, oversized t-shirt n some short shorts on as you sit.

He frowns pushing the bag off his lap and laying it atop the table, "Whatever.".

You and he were undoubtedly close friends, there would be times like this when Toji would leave and you and he would be alone. You were touchy but too overly— you would place your legs on his lap and he would hold your feet, hand resting on your knee. The cold metal of his rings tickling your skin— similar to now.

Sukuna glances at the bag of bud on the table, then at you— being high around you was better than being sober, he thought.

"You smoke?" he questioned, reaching for your pink tray, not that you ever used it. You only had it for him n Toji.

"Nah," you lifted one of your legs, hands playing with the hem of your shirt, "I like my lungs." you giggle. Sukuna lets out a soft huff in amusement, beginning to roll a blunt for himself.

You turn your head towards the television, a shitty reality show about dating on, merely as background noise.

"Why you let me 'n Toji smoke in your house then?" he questions, your head turning towards him— licking your lower lip as he licks the wrap for his blunt, a smirk on his lips.

" 'Cause he's my boyfriend 'n you kinda like his boytoy, I guess." you look away, used to having this sculpture-like being in your home, distracting yourself by watching the shitty show mentioned earlier.

Sukuna scoffed, after a small while he placed the tray down and lighted his blunt, taking a few tries before tossing the lighter onto the table.

"His boytoy, huh? Never thought about that shit." he wraps his left hand around your ankle and pulls, making you giggle. You scoot closer to him, the back of your thighs on his as your bum resting on the couch.

'ding!'

Sukuna glances over at his phone on the arm of the couch, huffing out smoke as he taps on the message from Toji, an image to be precise.

Toji was flexing in the mirror, a grin adorning his features as sweat stuck to his forehead, hair just a bit messier than usual. He had no shirt on, grey sweatpants dangerously low on his waist— captioned with, 'shoulda came with me .' .

He huffs for a moment, eyes lingering far too long on the image before shutting it off and tossing it on the table, moving his attention toward you noticing how you watched TV with no interest.

He swaps hands, blunt now in his left— right hand grazing our cranium, fingers scratching at your scalp, "Wanna change the channel?" he asks as he does so. You let out a soft 'mnh', laying your head on his shoulder, scooting closer to his warmth.

Sukuna curses himself, how could he ever let Toji find you before he did? On the other hand, he's trying his hardest not to let his dick grow. Hyperaware of how you two are sitting, he glances down at your bare legs, then drags his gaze down to your ankles and right back up to your plump thighs. He fights the urge to fucking groan. He looks at your face, taking note of how your lips are almost touching his shirt— he wants to kiss you so bad.

He finds himself whispering your name, watching as your eyes flick up to meet his, seemingly sleepy.

"Yeah?"

If there had been an angel in his life it was you, he thinks as he turns his head away, taking a quick and small hit from the blunt fingers still rubbing at your scalp. He's at a loss for words— you pat his chest.

"What is it, Kuna?"

Fuck it.

He turns his head towards you, gripping the back of your cranium, he takes two moments to gauge your reactions— watching the way your mouth opens in a panic, then he kisses you.

You groan into his mouth as he just holds you there for a moment waiting to see if you'll reciprocate. It takes about a minute. He licks at your lips and you open them.

You fucking open your lips— for him.

He groans into your mouth as he begins to lick at every crevice in your mouth, tasting you. You whimper, before he pulls away, throwing his blunt onto the tray—

"Can we go to my room, Kuna? Ion like doin' it on my couch."

You've been fucked on the couch. Noted. He'd have to do that too.

"Lead the way." he huffs out, you press a small kiss against his lips before getting up, hand wrapped around his tattooed wrist— Sukuna follows you like a lost dog, managing to take his weed along with him.

You open the door to your room and he smiles at the sight of it— pink and white decorating your room as well as a light pink canopy hanging over your bed with dim yellow lights. You lead him towards your bed, plopping your butt on your soft bed as he stands over you— you lean backward, hands on the bed as you smile up at him.

Sukuna places a hand on your jaw, similar to the way Toji had done to him, before placing his lips on yours. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, dragging him down with you as you lay your back down.

Sukuna pulls away to look at your pretty face, admiring the way your eyes flickered from his lips then to his eyes, he grins— "You want me t'fuck ya?" he latches his lips onto your neck, kissing and licking, making his way down your body.

"God, Kuna..." you huff, hands grabbing onto the bigger male's shoulders, watching as he places his blunt and the lighter from his pocket on the pink desk beside your bed.

He drags his hands up your shirt, fingers reaching for your breasts— he kneads the supple flesh before rubbing and pulling at your nipples, his face right in front of them. He groans as he takes your shirt off, finding it troublesome, he takes a moment to ogle your breasts— latching his mouth on your left nipple, using his other hand to squish your nipple.

You arch your back into him, hands pulling on his locks as you squirm— he feels similar to Toji you thought, but much more sloppy. He slobbers on your tits before moving down to your shorts, he hooks his arm around your waist, sitting on his knees.

He peels your shorts off, groaning when he sees you wearing no panties, and that you're fucking soaked. He throws the shorts somewhere around the room eyes still hooked to your soaking fat pussy practically just waiting for him. Sukuna wraps another arm around your waist and pulls your pussy up to his mouth, treating you as if you were a doll. He attempts to wrap his mouth around your entire mound, licking and sucking at your clit and dragging his fat tongue in and out of your cunt.

He groans as he licks up all your juices, listening to your moans and whimpers when he bumps his nose on your clit— licking on your pussy lips to ensure he gets all the juices. "F—uhh,ck. Kunaaa... kuna, 'm gonna cum—.. nnnnhh."

"Gh, fuck. Cum, I want you to cum all over my fuckin' face." he huffs, burying his face into your heat and rewarding himself with pornographic moans from your mouth as he shakes his head side to side, his spit dripping from your shiny pussy down to your ass. You let out a long whine, hands shaking as you try to grab onto anything to ground yourself— squirming to attempt to run away. His grip tightens around your waist as he rides out your orgasm, squirt dribbling out of you and onto his tongue.

He stuffs his mouth full of your cunt for a few more minutes before letting you go, laying you flat in front of him.

You look at him through lidded eyes, watching as he licks his lips and wipes his chin, leaning down to kiss you again— forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

"Was that good, baby?" he whispers into your mouth, lowering his hand to your pussy to rub at your swollen clit earning a hiss from you. "Fuck, kuna, it's too much. Can't take it..—"

Haven't even fucked her yet, he thinks, grinning similar to the tiger plush you both left in the living room. Sukuna leans backward, removing his black shirt and throwing it away, silver accessories adorning his skin. You stare at his chest, eyes traveling along his tattoos before you pull on his black jeans, "take 'em off?", you ask.

"Take 'em off? Ya sure? Ya sure your pretty lil pussy can even take my dick?"

You pout, hands wrapping around your breasts, "pleeasee?"

He snickers, unbuckling his black belt and pulling it through the loops, then removing his jeans along with his boxers.

You glance down at his cock, watching his throb— he was a little longer than Toji, not thicker but definitely longer.

"Don't say it ain't gonna fit 'cus I know it will." he places his hand flat on your stomach, his rings now warm from all the times he touched you. He rubs the tip of his swollen cock against your clit, bumping it— "Stop squirmin', movin' too damn much." he huffs, letting you lift your legs and wrap your hands around them, squishing your tummy n boobs in the process.

He feels the rolls of your stomach underneath his hand and he smiles— you feel and look so beautiful, he must be blessed to have you even showing your cunt to him— Toji probably felt the same.

He uses his thumb to spread open your sticky pussy lips, watching clear bubbles seep out of your hole— he lets out a moan at the sight, removing his hand from your tummy to grab his cock, rubbing the tip on your entrance. He pushes the tip of his dick inside of you, eyes hooked on the way your cunt sucks him in.

"Your pussy always feel this good?"

you whimper in response, feeling your cunt stretch around Sukuna's cock, heavy balls resting on the curve of your ass.

Sukuna pulls your body closer to him, leaning over you as he reaches toward the desk beside your bed, grabbing his blunt and lighter — he places the blunt between his lips, using his hand to cover his lighter, taking a few tries but he lights it. He grins as he holds the smoke in his mouth, putting the blunt out on your shirt on the bed before tossing it back on the desk.

He holds the smoke in his mouth, placing his hands on either side of your head as he slowly drives his cock into your cunt— causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

"feels.. s'good, kuna." you huff, feeling his cock splitting you open is intoxicating— the mushroom tip of his dick pushing at your cervix. He takes a second to groan, smoke coming out from his nose and blowing on your face. He pulls his hips back and thrusts back into your heat— grin spreading on his face.

It's like a dream, the way your pussy sucks in his cock— the way your sloppy fucking cunt doesn't wanna let go of him— fuck, it's enough to make a man cry. It takes him a few seconds before he begins pumping his cock into you, driving as deep as he physically can. He wraps his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back— blowing out the smoke onto your skin.

"Feel good, mama?—" he growls, sharp canines sinking into your neck, surely leaving a mark for Toji to see. You nod absent-mindedly, lifting your hips to match along with his thrusts— your juices dripping from your entrance and onto the bed. "Yeah?" he leans up to watch your fucked out expression, admiring the way fat tears prickled in the corners of your eyes— mouth wide open as you spew out incoherent babbles. It's cute, you're cute— making such a silly face due to the onslaught he's giving to your cunt.. what a sight.

He can feel your pussy convulse, feel it get tighter— twitching around his fat cock, "You cummin'?" .

You grip his shoulders, legs shaking as you try desperately to come down from your high— it doesn't take awhile before he's pulling another orgasm out of your sensitive cunt. He grabs onto the back of your thighs, pressing them against your chest to drive his cock deeper into you. It takes everything in him not to cum, especially when your squirt drenches him and trickles down his balls.

His jaw clenches as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands resting on your cheeks, rings cold again.

" Mhh, I'm gonna cum in this slutty pussy." he snickers when he feels you're nearly loose pussy tighten around him, babbles of 'no's' or 'toji's gnna find out' exit your cute swollen lips. He doesn't care if Toji finds out. It doesn't bother him at all— not when the thought of Toji fucking his cum into you crosses his mind. Toji cumming in the same pussy that holds his spunk? Sounds like heaven in his mind.

"Da— nnnfg, fuck, daddy—"

He grins. You're so fucked stupid, you don't even register what you're saying.

"Huh, what is it, sweetie? Ngh, what do you want— fuuh, ck. Whaddya want from daddy?" he slows his hips, pressing his lips on yours in a soft kiss.

"You want daddy's cum?—" he scoffed, leaning down to press multiple kisses on your face as he fucks into you slowly— in an attempt to prolong his oncoming climax. You nod, hands now pressed against Sukuna's hard body leaving angry red marks in their wake.

"Words."

"Yes !!"

"I'll give it to ya then, mama. Fuck a baby into this cheating pussy." he babbles, picking up the pace— cock bullying your pussy, the fat mushroom tip poking into your cervix almost painfully. It doesn't take a while until he feels himself about to cum, letting out quick breathy groans.

"Kiss me." he groans out, you whine as you press your drool-laced lips on his, his snakebite piercings poking your lips as you kiss him— your tongues tangling together merely just licking against each other's, mouths open.

He whines for a second before moaning into your mouth, pressing his cock into you.

One, two, three, four— until he's emptying his heavy balls inside of you, spraying his seed everywhere. "Oh fuck, oh fuck," he repeats, still mindlessly humping into you until his cock goes flaccid, it doesn't register to him that you came as well.

You both stay there for a while, your legs sore as he still holds you in position, evidently folding you. He breathes slowly as he presses his forehead against yours, using his thumb to wipe tears away from your cheeks.

He stifles a whimper as he pulls out of you, the sudden emptiness making you wince— he lays beside you, leaning up against your pink wall, pink pillows against his back.

"Kuna??.."

"Huh?" he glances at your sleepy face, your eyes droopy as you attempt to get comfortable in your bed. Sukuna assists you by placing the blanket over your sore body.

"I'm sleepy." you giggle as Sukuna scrunches up his nose at you, using his hand to tickle your neck— "Sleep then." he stops as you just nod, still dazed by the sex you had earlier.

He watches as you snuggle up in your bed, laying your head on one of your many pillows. He looks for his phone, remembering he left it in the living room— he groans, getting out of the warm embrace of which was your bed. He pulls on his jeans, not bothering to button them up before exiting your room and entering the living room.

He spots his phone on the table where he must have thrown it, he bends over to grab it when he hears the door open and close— fuck. Sukuna gazes up to spot Toji walking through the door, sweaty. Black hair a mess as it sticks to his face, lips curling into a frown once he notices Sukuna without a shirt.

Sukuna stands up straight, stuffing his phone in his pocket before Toji can speak— big arms folded over, black compress shirt stretching over his muscles.

"Guess I'm late to the shit rockin' party." he huffs out, stepping closer to the male standing across from him. "Ya coulda asked me, asshole." he mumbles, one hand being pressed on Sukuna's chest forcefully.

It's strange, off-putting nearly. Toji didn't seem mad.

Sukuna stifled a chuckle, hand running through his hair, "Guess I couldn't wait." he responds, watching as Toji grins, scar enlarging.

"Lemme guess, she's asleep?"

Sukuna nods, hands now resting on his hips, eyes searching Toji's face for any discomfort— it feels as if he had been the one to cheat. Toji tilts his head to the side, stepping closer to the point where his chest had nearly hit Sukuna's.

"You up for another fuck?" large hands land on the other's waist, his thumb which had been painted pink by you rubbing circles into his skin.

"Although, you won't be the one doing the fucking." grin.

tags [ @cindol ] also, ty cinny for dealing with me while writing this stupid fucking novel. i added multiple tojikuna stuff for you too!! love u babezzz <3

do NOT repost or translate without my permission. this post belongs to @luvlyycy . plagiarism is illegal.

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part four

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

When you wake up that following morning, you’re confused for the first few seconds about which room you’re in. This is not the guest room from Lando his apartment. Slowly the morning fussiness inside you clears up. The events from last night come back to you. Lando was screaming and making sounds all night, which caused you to check it out. He had a nightmare. You awoke him. After another stupid remark from Lando, you decided to watch some television with him - in his bed. Did you fall asleep in his bed? Shit. Carefully you look next to you. When you look and notice Lando, who’s still peacefully asleep, you realize that you did fall asleep next to him. 

The part that sits with you the most right now? It feels weirdly comfortable to lay next to Lando in his bed. It scares you. The wise thing to do is to get out of his bed, get back into your own and forget about this situation. Although you already know that Lando will bring it up eventually. You don’t want to leave his warm bed, but you don’t see another option right now. So, carefully you turn yourself around and move away from Lando. It’s only now that you notice how close you were laying to Lando. 

When you get away from the blankets and take your first move to get out of the bed, you’re quick to be stopped. It’s Lando who’s stopping you. He’s quick to grab your arm and to stop you from leaving his bed. “Not yet,” he softly mutters while pulling you back to himself. You notice how much deeper his voice is in the morning. Fuck, his voice is hot like this. Slowly you give in and move yourself back underneath the blankets. You know that this isn’t smart, but you can’t help yourself. Lando is quick to get you into his arms. It feels weird to lay into his arms like this, but in some even weirder way it also feels really nice. Lando wraps his arms around your body. 

You allow yourself to fall back asleep in Lando his arms. This is an one time thing, you keep reminding yourself. This can’t happen again. That means you better enjoy it for how long it lasts. Lando however tries to stay awake this time. When he notices your closed eyes and peaceful  deep breaths, he can only focus on how to get you in his bed again. He needs to experience this more often. Or even better, this should become the new normal. 

Eventually Lando can’t stop himself from falling asleep again as well. Before closing his eyes and giving in, he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. You have turned yourself completely into his body. Lando feels his underwear tighten around his crotch. Feeling your body onto his own like this will probably be an image that he won’t forget about quickly. 

When Lando wakes up again, you have left his bed already. 

+++

“You’re actually insane,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Who in their right mind is going on a date with their ex boyfriend?”

“It’s not a date,” you sigh with the same annoyed tone as Lando was using earlier. 

“Not a date?” Lando asks you sarcastically, he almost laughs at you for the remark. “You’re going to a restaurant to have dinner with your ex boyfriend. Doesn’t that sound like a date to you?”

“Why do you even care,” you ask Lando with a raised voice. The annoyance is obvious in your voice. You know that Lando does have a point, but you can’t tell him that. Right? Earlier today your ex called you. Which seemed weird to you, since the last time you spoke to him was a couple months back during the break up. He told you that he still had some of your stuff which he wanted to give back to you and that he wanted to apologize. You have no idea what stuff he still has of you, but you can only hope that it’s the sweater you have been missing for a while. It was the most logical idea to meet up somewhere. The worst idea was to invite him into Lando his apartment and you also didn’t want to go to his place, so you settled for a restaurant. Exactly like your ex wanted.

“Why shouldn’t I care?” Lando asks you back.

“Because you don’t care about me,” you are quick to slap back. 

Lando can’t stop himself and lets out a loud laugh. It almost scares you. “You’re really stupid,” he tells you while laughing. 

“Great!” You tell angrily. Now he really crossed a line with you. “Stupid, insane, what else do you think of me?” You ask him with the same angry tone in your voice. 

Lando holds back a lot of words right now. It takes a lot from him to not start to scream at you what he actually thinks about you. What a stupid question. It’s not like he thinks that you’re insane and stupid, but he does think that about your idea of going to dinner with your ex. Normally Lando thinks you’re the most beautiful, smart, kind and many positive things more, girl he knows. Although he does think you’re a bit bratty, but in some way that only makes you more attractive in his eyes. He wants nothing more then to fuck all of that brattiness our of you, only for it to come back every time again. That would be the best. 

“Sorry,” Lando sighs with a more calmer tone in his voice then before, “I don’t think you’re stupid and insane, okay? It’s just that I think that this idea is pretty stupid and insane. He’s your ex for a reason, you can’t date him again.”

“You’re not deciding things like that for me,” you tell him angrily. After those words you turn yourself around and start walking towards your own room. You’re really not in the mood to stay with Lando any longer right now. An annoyed groan leaves your throat, it’s not like you think this is a date - although you have no idea how to call it otherwise. And it’s really not like you want to get back with your ex, but you do want to stay civil with him. 

“Don’t walk away,” Lando yells after you. 

“Why not?” You yell back, “So you can insult me even more?”

After those words you slam the door of your bedroom shut with a loud bang. Lando sighs when he hears the door slam. He almost slaps himself. How is it that every time things seems to be going alright between you and him, he finds a way to fuck it up? He thinks about following you and trying to apologize, but eventually it seems a better idea to let you cool down for a bit. 

In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for later tonight. You have no idea what to wear and how much time to spend on your make up. Of course, you do want to look nice, but you don’t want your ex to think that you did that for him. This is complicated. Eventually you pick out a dress and put on a light make up look. You still have some time left. Since you’re not in the mood to clash with Lando again, you decide to relax for a bit on your bed and watch some TikTok’s. 

When you do come back in the living room an small hour later, it doesn’t take long before Lando his frustrations comes back up again. He feels himself getting mad all over again. This time it’s caused by the way you’re looking. Why are you dressed this nicely for a date with your ex? He starts to doubt if you do want him back. It sure does seem like it. Lando can’t look away from you. Earlier today he called you insane, but now he’s pretty sure that he’s the insane one. All because of you. You’re making him lose his mind. 

You notice the way Lando is looking at you. The frustration is clearly displayed on his face. Is he still mad? You felt like you were calmed down about it, but seeing Lando staring at you like this makes your frustration come back as well. 

“You look good,” Lando eventually tells you with an annoyed tone. Before you can ask about his tone or thank him for the compliment (?), he’s already talking further. “Too good,” he adds.  You want to ask what he means, but when you see the notification coming up on your phone you decide to let it be. Your ex is already here. 

“I’m leaving,” you tell Lando, “Bye.”

Lando hurries himself after you when you walk away from him again. Quickly he grabs your hand. “Just be careful alright?” He asks you. 

His behavior confuses you. What does he mean with this? It’s just your ex, not some criminal. Or is this still because he thinks you’re stupid? “I wonder if I can,” you bite, “I mean I’m pretty stupid after all.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lando sighs annoyed, “Just call or text me if you need help.” After those words you’re quick to walk away from Lando. Everything about him confuses you. Fuck. Maybe you’re getting insane, Lando makes you lose your mind. 

 +++

This day won’t get any better. Your ex boyfriend did bring your lost sweater, but that’s the only positive thing so far. He’s going on and on about how much he misses you. At first it was kinda sweet, but now it’s just annoying. You didn’t break up with him without a good reason, so you don’t feel tempted to act out on his pleas. Not that he asked about getting back together, but you suspect that the question can come anytime. 

Maybe Lando was right, this is weird. You should have bought a new sweater instead of doing this. He did already send you multiple messages, maybe you should text Lando to help you out of this situation? You almost laugh at your own dumb idea. Lando will probably text back something in the lines of: “I told you so.” He isn’t going to help you with the mess you created yourself.

It’s a shame Max isn’t around. You try to remember why your brother isn’t in Monaco right now, but you don’t remember the reason right now. You do however remember that you really need to meet up with him soon, you haven’t seen him for a bit. 

“Don’t you miss me as well babygirl?” Your ex asks you. His questions shakes you out off your earlier thoughts. No, you don’t miss him. That isn’t the strange thing you’re feeling right now. It’s his last word. Babygirl. He never called you that before. He wasn’t one for nicknames like that. Since when is he calling you babygirl? It feels weird. 

It takes you a short minute before you can say why it feels weird. Normally it’s Lando who calls you babygirl. Shit. Is this really feeling weird because you’re used to Lando? 

“Please don’t call me that,” you politely tell your ex. He gives you a strange look. “Earlier you begged me to give you a cute nickname?” He asks confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “When we were in a relationship.”

His remark reminds you about why you broke up with him the first place. Yes, he was your boyfriend but often it didn’t feel like it. He was always too busy to make time for you. Which wasn’t that bad, until you noticed that he had time for everyone else. The romance just wasn’t there. When you thought about your relationship after the break up, you were quick to realize that it was a more friendly situation then a relationship. 

And maybe, really maybe, your meeting with Lando confused you as well and made the breakup happen sooner. When you first saw Lando, he made you feel something that you never felt around your then-boyfriend. But that will no one ever know.

“But I do want to get back with you in a relationship,” your ex confesses, “I can make more time for you, I can figure out some cute nicknames and we can be together again.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” you carefully reply. Everything he just said, is nothing you want. You don’t want to spend more time with him, get his attention and certainly don’t want to be together again. 

“What do you mean?” Your ex asks you confused, “That’s what you wanted right? More attention, a more loving relationship?”

“Wanted yeah,” you tell him, “I don’t want that anymore.”

“Then what do you want?” He asks you frustrated.

“I don’t know what I want,” you confess, “but I do know that it’s not you, sorry.” 

You tried to tell him so polite as you could, but apparently it made him still angry with you. Fuck. This really was a bad idea. You notice another text from Lando popping up on your screen. Should you text him back? You unlock your phone and read Lando his texts.

Lando Norris: I meant it. Text me if you need me.

Lando Norris: How are things going?

Lando Norris: Babygirl?

Lando Norris: Just tell me if you’re okay

Since when does Lando care this much about you? It makes you shiver, but not in a bad way. That’s not a good sign. You want to reply to his texts, but your ex is already snatching your attention away again. 

“Who are you texting?” He asks you annoyed. Before you can answer, he’s talking further. “Is it your new boyfriend?” He continues to ask. 

“New boyfriend?” You ask confused. Does he think you have a new boyfriend? Why would he even think that. 

“Yeah. Maybe it’s that Lando guy, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

The venomous tone in his voice reminds you about the other reason you broke up with him. The jealousy. It’s crazy now you think about it. On the on hand you were having the feeling that the two of you were barely friends, let alone lovers, but on the other hand your ex was always jealous. You remember multiple fights between the two of you, even one about Lando. You almost laugh if you think about telling your ex who you’re living with right now, but you don’t tell him. You don’t want to fight. 

“I don’t have a new boyfriend,” you tell your ex.

“Then why won’t you want to get back with me?” He asks you angrily. 

You don’t like the angry tone. He has no right to act like this. “I don’t like you like that anymore,” you tell him annoyed, “and I don’t even know if I ever did.” The last part of your sentence wasn’t smart, but you feel yourself getting mad as well. 

“Bitch,” you ex hisses angrily. 

For a few seconds you doubt about your next move should be. Are you going to get into an argument with your ex or are you leaving? His words make you mad, but you know it isn’t smart to get into an argument with him here. Maybe this is the moment to text Lando, he offered to help you right? Maybe he can pick you up? 

“I’m going to pay for my part and then I’m leaving,” you tell your ex eventually, “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about left.” In the mean time you pull out your phone again, you open your chat with Lando and quickly type something. 

y/n: can u come get me? I’m at Amù

You press send, but you have no idea if the text is actually being send. The screen has turned black. Shit, you didn’t even know that your battery was low. What if the text didn’t send? With an annoyed sigh you get up from the table and walk towards the server so you can pay for your part. Then without looking back at your ex, you leave the place. In all irony it’s also starting to rain. What a shitty day. 

Within the second that Lando got your message, he’s in his car. The restaurant you’re at isn’t that far from his place thankfully. He tries to get to you as fast as he can manage. Breaking multiple traffic laws in the mean time. 

“Come on let me take you home,” your ex says angrily. He’s standing outside with you, much to your annoyance. You don’t want him to be here. It’s pouring rain in the mean time. You realize that you must look awful now. Your dress is sticking against your body, your make up is probably ruined. You can only hope that there isn’t anyone around who knows your name or brother. The Instagram posts are already formed in your head. 

“No,” you reply.

“So you’re going to stand here stupidly?” He continues to ask. 

“I’m getting picked up.” At least, you hope so. 

When Lando arrives at the street from the restaurant, he’s quick to spot you. You and your ex. He has never seen the guy before, but he can’t take his time to look at him. He quickly parks his car across the street and jogs to you. When he looks at you, he realizes that you are all soaked. Before he can say anything to you, your ex is talking at you. Lando didn’t expect that your ex would be still here as well.

Lando takes a good look at your ex. He never saw the guy before. It’s been a while since you dated him, but Lando is certain that he never met him. He knows that Max wasn’t a fan of the guy either. 

“See!” The guy says angrily. “Fucking slut,” he continues with a raised voice, “you’re already dating someone else. And even worse, it is him! You lied to me.”

“We’re not dating,” you sigh. 

“Yet,” Lando can’t withhold his remark. “And don’t call her that again.”

You send Lando an annoyed glance. Is he here to help you or to make things worse? Even though, you can’t stop the weird feeling in your stomach after he just said that. Why are his words having such an impact on you? And why is Lando talking about dating you? Could it be possible that he wants to date you? You’re getting confused by what’s happening.

“Are you going to deny that she is a slut?” Your ex asks Lando. 

“Come on babygirl, we’re leaving before I’m going to lose it,” Lando mutters annoyed. He already feels himself getting angry with the guy in front of him. He gives you his hand, which you thankfully grab and wants to take you with him to his car so you can get home. 

“So that’s why I couldn’t call you that,” your ex remarks, “your new boyfriend has dibs on that name.” 

“Not my boyfriend,” you state again. 

Lando almost adds another ‘yet’ again, but this time he holds himself back from doing it. 

“Oh just for the sex then?” Your ex asks, “That does seem more fitting for a slut like you.”

Before you can even say something back, you’re already busy with pulling back Lando. What is going on? Lando has let go of your hand, only to use it to form a fist which can hit your ex boyfriend in his face. Fuck, he did actually punch him. You’re quick to grab Lando his arm and to try to take him with you. 

“Let’s go Lando,” you mutter, “He isn’t worth it.”

“He called you a slut!” Lando almost screams. “Two fucking times.”

“I know,” you sigh, “Let’s leave please.”

Your ex is furious right now. He’s balding his fists as well and seems ready to take revenge on Lando for his earlier punch. When you see the fist of your ex coming at Lando his face, you don’t think about your next action. You quickly pull away Lando, which caused you to stand in front of the upcoming fist from your ex. When you feel it hit your cheek, you let out a gasp from the impact. It’s not a hard punch, but you’re still shocked. 

Lando reacts within seconds. He carefully looks at your cheek, making sure that the impact wasn’t big. Softly he pushes you to the side before he grabs your ex by his neck. “I swear to fucking god,” Lando says with a voice so low it almost sounds dangerous to you, “you better make sure that you’re never close to her again, because the next time I see you too close to her, I’ll fucking end you.” You wonder what he means with that. “I’ll make sure everyone knows what a pathetic loser you are,” Lando continues, “and that you’ll never have a chance with a girl, or with a job or with whatever ever again.” He lets your ex go and watches him quickly walk away. 

“Are you alright babygirl?” Lando asks you worried. He is quick to get you into his arms and to inspect your face again. It doesn’t look to bad thankfully. 

“I think so,” you softly tell Lando. 

“Let’s get you home,” Lando replies, “I have some ice there, hopefully it will stop the swelling.”

When you’re seated next to Lando in his expensive McLaren, you remember your horrible state. You must look like a mess. Your dress is soaked, your make up is running all over your face and even worse, you also feel like a mess. 

“It turns out you were right after all,” you sigh.

“I wish I wasn’t.”

“Sorry that I dragged you into this,” you apologize towards Lando. 

“Rather be sorry that you ever dated someone like him,” Lando replies, “I’m pretty sure there’s someone better around for you.”

“Someone like?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Lando chuckles, “Someone who’s ready to punch another guy for you maybe.”

And again, Lando confused the hell out of you. 

part five

a/n; thanks everyone so much for all the kind reactions so far 🫶🏻 love reading them 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

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[heich0e]

you're almost giddy as you run your hands underneath the stream of cool water rushing from the sink's tap, an effervescence fizzling in the pit of your stomach as the sound of running water whooshes through your ears. you watch the soap suds circle the drain as your teeth bite down against the side of your cheek.

on the other side of the restroom door, you can hear the distant din of the restaurant creeping in, reminding you of where you are. the sound spurs you on and quickly, haphazardly, you shake whatever water is left clinging to the tips of your fingers away once the soap suds are gone—too eager to even bother with properly drying them. next, you fish your cellphone out from inside the little purse you'd brought with you that evening.

you tap the name at the top of your recent call log, and your roommate answers after two rings.

"date goin' so bad yer calling in the black ops squad for rescue? what's our story gonna be this ti—"

atsumu sounds entirely too pleased by the prospect of your date going badly, and it makes you all too happy to cut him off.

"it's going really well," you say, nearly breathless in your delight. it's been a while since you've been this... excited about a date. about a guy. "too well, actually."

"oh?" atsumu's voice lifts in surprise, but he doesn't say a whole lot else.

you hum affirmatively, reaching into your purse again to pull out a tube of lip gloss, pinning your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free up your hands to unscrew the lid. your eyes are fixed to the reflection of your mouth in the mirror as you swipe a thin coat across your lips. "i need a favour."

"'n what's that?" atsumu asks, his voice drying out into a monotone that indicates his distinct lack of trust.

"can you go in my room and shove any mess i left out into my closet?" you ask him before rubbing your lips together to evenly coat them in their lacquered shine.

atsumu guffaws from the other line. "'m i yer maid?"

"a second ago you were ready to go full boots on the ground as the black ops squad," you chide him. there's a moment of silence that passes in the restaurant bathroom, you can't even hear him breathing from the other line. finally, you speak again—softer this time, more sincere. "please, tsumu. i really like him."

he clicks his tongue behind his teeth in that admonishing way you hate, but there's a certain concession in the sound. "yer doing my laundry for a week."

"if the rest of the night goes as well as dinner, i'll do it for a month," you laugh, your cheeks pinching with how widely you smile.

"when are ya landin' here?"

"probably in like... an hour? we're just gonna have another drink or two." he grunts in recognition, even if he doesn't seem thrilled about it. "thanks, 'tsumie. i owe you one."

"ya owe me at least four," he grumbles. "try 'n keep it down once ya come stumblin' in all handsy and whatever, will ya? i don't need to hear all that."

"promise, promise!" you singsong. "you're the best."

"whatever," he answers with a stiff laugh, ending the call soon after.

you quickly tuck your phone back into your purse, adjust yourself one last time in the mirror, and then slip back out into the restaurant towards your waiting date.

the rest of your evening passes much the same as the rest had already unfolded—though something between you and the young man seems to shift as time goes on, turns more palpably yearning. it's no surprise that when you ask him if he'd like to come back to your place with you, he quickly agrees.

"is your roommate home?" atsushi—who you'd met at a work event a few weeks prior, and had been talking to ever since—asks quietly as you two step through the door of your higashiosaka apartment. he's pressed close to you in the genkan, a hand on your waist as he toes off his shoes, and his warmth makes you suppress a shiver.

you hum. "he sleeps like the dead though."

atsushi knows about atsumu, having revealed to him not long after you started texting that your long-time friend turned professional volleyball player is now your roommate. atsushi seemed to know who atsumu was, and even noted he looked forward to meeting him, but that would have to wait for another day.

there were more important things at hand.

you twine your fingers with atsushi's, using that grip to lead him towards your bedroom on the other side of the quiet apartment as your heartbeat thumps—hot and wet and noisy—in your chest. you close the door to your bedroom quietly behind you, and before you even have time to reach for the light switch you feel a soft pair of lips against your throat.

"oh," you gasp, your hands reaching up and threading through the silky strands of atsushi's hair.

it's an uncoordinated blur after that as you lead your date blindly towards your bed in the dark, tumbling back across it in a flurry of limbs and lust.

atsushi's hands slip up underneath the hem of your dress as he pants against your mouth. you wiggle a bit to help him ease it up over your hips, but there's something soft underneath you that makes it a bit awkward—a pillow taking up too much space. he goes to push the pillow off the bed, but it's bigger than either of you seem to anticipate.

he pulls back, squinting at it in the dark. he laughs, tugging the unexpectedly large mass up from underneath you. "what is this?"

you can't quite identify it, reaching over to your bedside table and flicking on the light to get a better look.

you really wish you hadn't.

in his hands, atsushi is holding a—not quite life-sized, but certainly much too large—pillow with atsumu in his MSBY uniform printed across it. you're so shocked by it that it takes you a moment to see anything else, but atsushi is not so fortunate.

"uh," his voice cracks a little as he peers around your room. "is this—?"

pasted on virtually any open space on your walls, and lining the various shelves and dressers of your room, atsumu's obnoxious face stares back. it's like the MSBY merch stall has set up shop in your bedroom—the only thing missing is the lineup of squealing teens fighting over the last sakusa jersey.

you're seeing red.

"i'm so sorry," you say, mortified, as you scramble upright in your bed and look at atsushi's startled face. "atsumu must have... i asked him to... oh my god."

you take the body pillow that atsushi still has clutched in his hands, more in shock than anything, and throw it onto the floor. he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"well, i definitely wasn't expecting that."

"this isn't my stuff, i swear," you insist.

he laughs again, but this time it's less strained, almost a giggle. he peeks over at you. "i believe you."

you bite your lip. "did this scare you off?"

he shakes his head, smiling shyly. "nah."

you sigh in relief as he dips down and kisses you again, cradling the nape of your neck as he leans you back in your bed once more. your head is spinning as he presses himself between your parted thighs, grinding gently against you. your eyes flutter open as you moan, but that sound turns into a small shriek of surprise that has him recoiling upright.

taped to the ceiling over your bed, almost perfectly mirroring your own position, an enormous poster of atsumu stares down at you.

that breaks you.

you slip out from underneath atsushi, standing on your bed and ripping the poster down as you reach up on your tiptoes. the sound of the glossy paper ripping is almost violently loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

"i'll be right back," you say, stiff but apologetic, to your bewildered date, before fleeing from the room.

you don't knock when you get to atsumu's room, throwing the door open and stomping inside.

he's sitting in his bed, watching something on his phone with a pair of headphones covering his ears. he looks up in surprise when you come storming in, and his gaze goes from amused to concerned when he sees the look on your face.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" you seethe, struggling to keep your voice low in spite of your desire to scream. you're still clutching a shred of the torn poster in your clenched fist, and you toss it onto his floor angrily. he pushes his headphones down to rest around his neck.

"aw, c'mon," he laughs as he sits up a little straighter in his bed, but the sound is a bit forced. "'s just a joke."

"well, it wasn't funny."

atsumu's jaw twitches a little bit. "if the guy got scared off by a harmless little—"

"he didn't get scared off," you hiss, "no thanks to you."

that shuts him up.

"he's still in my room, by some fucking miracle." your hands are shaking, that's how angry you are. you feel sick. "i told you i really like him, atsumu. why would you do that?"

you wish you didn't sound so wounded. you wish atsumu's answering expression wasn't so blank in the wake.

"god," you say, with a mirthless laugh. "when are you going to grow up?"

if atsumu wants to say more, you don't give him the chance. you spin on your heel and head towards the door, but just before you exit the room, you look back at him one last time. your eyes are narrowed in resentment and sharpened with hurt.

"you're gonna wanna turn that volume up, because i don't plan on keeping it down for your sake."

atsumu says nothing in reply, just stares at you. there's something almost desperate in his gaze that you don't understand, and make no attempt to.

you leave his door open behind you as your final act of spite.

[venusvhs]

hii 🫶🫶 i wanted to offer the scenario with mordern!Mizu when she and reader (wlw/gn) are friends, hopelessly in love, but too stubborn to notice it and how the bubble of denial would finaly break 🥰 dunno, i think it might be funny, especially with random people around mistaking them for couple while at the mall or something phaha

🏷️: best friends to lovers, queerplatonic friendship vibes, modern!au, loser!mizu, slow burn if you squint, weed usage, mizu gets her first kiss, sesbian lex is implied, t*igen mentioned sorry

🐾:ty for the ask my love!! i am always so excited to write mizu omg… as someone who was in a queer platonic friendship all throughout high school i relate so heavy to this scenario.. 🤭

you and mizu have been friends for years. since she’d moved into the house opposite yours, and you’d complimented her high tops and she’d just pushed you to avoid having to say thank you. you immediately asked her to be best friends.

over the years you’d become quite literally inseparable. you’d been ecstatic when you both got put in almost all of the same classes for high school, and you were at each other’s houses so often that it became normal to just walk in randomly, even when the other wasn’t home.

you had your group of friends, of course, but it was undeniable that the two of you were simply on another level of friendship. nobody seemed to understand you like mizu did, and vice versa.

throughout life you got closer— and even came out to each other at the exact same time, in mizu’s car after sharing a joint. she’d turned to you and said “hey, i have something to tell you,” and you’d repeated it, and at the same time you’d both very awkwardly come out to each other, and collapsed into a fit of giggles after.

your friends began to question the two of you in college, when you moved in together because both of you had insisted that totally random roommates would be weird. when you went everywhere together, when you argued like married people while decorating the apartment.

although you and mizu had separate rooms, every time your friend group stayed over after drinking, she’d let akemi and taigen take her bed, ringo would take the couch, and she’d sleep with you. nobody even had to convince her because she offered, and you were just as eager. it wasn’t weird to you two, you’d been sharing beds since childhood. but admittedly, when akemi found the two of you sleeping quite literally on top of each other—mizu’s hand on your waist and yours on hers—the next morning and told you it’s not friendship behaviour, you did start thinking.

any time you two went out together people stared. sure, you were odd looking people, but you lived in a part of the city practically infested with other queer people, so the stares probably weren’t judgemental… probably.

you and mizu had a tendency to go on dates without realising. you’d go to the aquarium so mizu could take pictures for an art project, or you’d go get coffee just for fun, you’d go just the two of you on fancy dinners when your friends cancelled, and you’d go grocery shopping together like an old married couple.

what made the both of you realise that maybe this behaviour wasn’t just friendship was when you were talking to a couple you’d met at the mall and one of them had asked you, “so where did you two meet? you seem so romantic!” and mizu had quite literally done a double take and immediately jumped to deny the claim.

that same night you were laid on the couch together, you on one end and mizu on the other with your legs criss crossed, when she’d turned to you and said, without missing a beat, “so, like.. what are we?” and it had led to a long and complicated conversation.

well, not really. you’d sort of just looked at her and said, “what do you think we are?” to which she’d just snorted. “i actually don’t know,” she confessed. “people seem to think we’re dating.”

“do you want to?” you’d replied, a little too quick for your liking. “well.. we basically already are.” and you’d both laughed and just accepted that maybe you were already dating, you just hadn’t realised it.

that same night, you’d given mizu her first actual kiss— and a whole lot more than that.

[greenpolicelight]

Roommate - Satoru Gojo

Summary : You're Gojo's childhood friend, and roommate. Which leads to chaos or perhaps utter bliss.

Warnings : Smut, choking, body worship, size kink, over-stimulation, thigh fucking, fluff and smut.

Word count : 10k

Your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to pay all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

You hear a banging on your door. A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned, but instead, it's your childhood friend stands before you, taller and a lot hotter since the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never any distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You started to wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have the energy – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

It’s been an absolutely shitty day. Your shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his stupid secretary lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when she never did. You boss would publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off and head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off, you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, heading to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to cook and look after himself?

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to get the pans when you see that he’s placed them above, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it lower. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this.” You snarl and hop over the counter to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner was awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he took his time eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off, he actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop moving around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually quite, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully walk to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

The door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh. “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, his arms keeping you close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you.

His hand cups your buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching onto his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. He pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there , the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all.

It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.”

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. You curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time.

Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru…” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I…”

“You regret it, right?” he finishes drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels away as you watch him stride. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if…the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is the definition of feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie as Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please…”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.