#very excited to be here! excited to plot and write with you all

[rkiveslibrary]

Chapter 4

Summary: You finally achieved your dream of writing and publishing a book and it goes well. It goes so well, your publisher wants you to write a second book. The only problem is the fans want it to be spicier and you have only had one very lackluster sexual partner in your life. Enter Kim Taehyung the cocky fuckboy of your past who is willing to lend a hand to a “friend” in need

Word Count: 7.3K

Paring: Taehyung/Reader (Side Jikook)

Rating: 18+ MDNI!!

Tags: Porn with plot, POV switch, slow building friendship, FWB situationship, blooming feelings??, playful banter between friends, there was only one very small couch... oh darn, cuddling, massages that turn sensual, erections, jerking off over clothes, kissing, Kim Taehyung has a big dick, handjobs, blowjobs, cum shots, cum eating.

Authors Note: I picked the nickname BabyBlue for a reason and this chapter explains why hehehhe

Thank you for reading! Likes and Reblogs are appreciated.

Series Masterlist

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“Oh, I am so excited to see my wedding dress again!” Mira chirped happily as she parked her car downtown.

The sky was clear blue, with big, wispy clouds that made it look like something out of a cartoon. The air was warm and bright, and everything was finally blooming after the long winter.

Today was Mira’s second wedding dress fitting, and as her Maid of Honour, you offered to go with her after your morning shift at the café.

You quickly went home to change in between, and just as you were tying your wet hair back, the doorbell rang. Mira showed up with a big smile and some croissants she had baked.

You ate as she drove you both to her appointment, filling you in on her morning so far as the windows were rolled down and the wind and sunshine felt nice on your skin.

You had yet to tell her about Taehyung; it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, it was that things had gotten busy, and between working and wedding planning, you didn’t have a whole lot of time to talk about yourself.

You weren’t mad or annoyed; you knew when the time was right, you would tell her all about it.

Mira shot you a smile as she looped her arm through yours, and you both walked into the small boutique where she purchased her wedding dress.

Mira was one of the easiest brides you had ever seen. She seemed to be chill about almost everything about her wedding, and it only took her two hours to find her dress, and she picked your dress in under an hour.

“Ah, Mira, come here, my beautiful bride!” A voice rang out, and you both turned to see Mrs. Hana walk towards you with arms outstretched and a smile lighting up her face.

Mrs. Hana was a friend of Mira’s grandmother, and when she found out Mira was getting married, she insisted she shop at her boutique.

Today, the store was quiet, but people were milling about as Mrs. Hana took you to the private dressing rooms, and you sat on one of the plush grey chairs as Mira disappeared behind a curtain to try on her dress.

As you waited, you pulled out your phone and saw a couple of texts from Taehyung, and you couldn’t help but grin.

It had been over a week since that night you showed up, soaking wet on his doorstep, and things had taken quite a turn.

You went from thinking he was a stuck-up jerk to him becoming someone you may…eventually…consider a friend.

After the steamy makeout session, you ate and talked things out, coming up with more of a solid game plan as to how to go about this.

Taehyung was surprisingly thoughtful as you came up with a sort of lesson plan to follow, so you didn’t get sidetracked or accidentally jump too far ahead.

It seemed jumping too quickly could become a problem, especially after that kiss.

Especially after how hard his cock felt under you as you straddled his lap

And especially how badly you wanted to get on your knees that night and suck him off.

Though you would never admit that to him

His ego was big enough.

And so was his-

Anyway

You stuck to an easy friendship for now. Taehyung sending you occasional memes and funny videos. You're sending some back. Asking about each other’s day

You know

The things friends do

Tonight was his monthly movie night, and this time he pleaded that you show up.

It had to be moved to monthly because everyone had responsibilities now, but Taehyung told you it was still important for his friends to get together at least once a month or more.

“We can’t get lost as zombies in the workforce. We have to remember how to have fun.” He told you that night after you set ground rules for how this would work.

Tonight would be your first night going since University and you were nervous, but you didn’t know why. It would be the regular group, though you guessed things were different now that you and Taehyung were friends-with-benefits.

The curtain slid open, and you stared in awe as Mira stepped out, looking like she belonged in a wedding magazine, as Mrs. Hana cooed and helped her to stand on the platform so she could get to work pinning her dress.

“God Mira, you look incredible.” You gushed as your best friend smiled at you, and Mrs. Hana agreed.

You quickly texted Taehyung back, telling him that yes, you are still coming tonight and yes, you and Mira would pick up snacks.

With that, you shoved your phone into your purse so your focus would be solely on Mira.

“I think I can take in a little more on the sides, dear.” Mrs. Hana said as she expertly pinned the dress up, and Mira nodded.

“Oh, and why don’t you get in your dress too, so we can see how it fits, dearie?” She asks, looking at you with a soft smile as you nod and head to the dressing room next to Mira’s where your dress is already hanging.

You pull the curtain closed, but something seems to stop you in your tracks.

You stare at the dress longer, trying to figure out what it is, until the light bulb goes off and you let out an audible groan.

“What’s wrong?” Mira asks. She must still be getting her dress altered, as her voice sounds far away.

“Mira. Did you pick the colour of this dress on purpose?” You ask, carefully taking off your clothes and sliding the dress off the hanger.

“Well, yeah. You know how the saying goes. Something old, something new, something borrowed, and you, my best friend, are my something blue!” She says as Mrs. Hana coos at how sweet that was.

And it was sweet.

Except the shade of blue she picked reminds you of a certain nickname a boy with fluffy hair and a mischievous smile gave you all those years ago.

How did you not notice during your first dress fitting?

You carefully step into the dress and pull the straps over your bare shoulders. You smooth everything down and stare at the shade with distaste as you pull the curtain open and Mira gushes.

“Oh, it’s so pretty on you!” She says as she steps down from the pedestal to let you have your turn.

“What’s wrong with the colour? It looks wonderful on you.” Mrs. Hana asks innocently as she begins to bunch up the fabric and play around with the length of the dress.

“Baby blue, Mira. Really?” You deadpan as her eyes widen, and she can’t help but throw her head back and laugh.

Oh, you are never going to be living this one down.

“He’s going to have a field day with this.” You hiss as Mira continues to cackle, and Mrs. Hana is still pinning your dress, oblivious to what is going on.

“It’s—I didn’t even think of… Oh my God, that’s hilarious.” She giggles, still standing in her dress as you jut your bottom lip out in a pout and sigh.

“He’s never going to let me live this down.” You whine as Mrs. Hana stands up and stares at you in the mirror.

“Does this have something to do with a boy? I can always tell when it’s about a boy.” She says as she begins to play with the fabric of the straps, as Mira is grinning behind you.

“Yes, it’s about a very infuriating boy.” You sigh as Mrs. Hana pats your arm sympathetically, but Mira isn’t about to let it go so easily.

“You know, you never did tell me what happened that night. Imagine my surprise when he is the one to call me and tell me you showed up at his door. After this, we are sitting down, and you are telling me the full story. All I know is he was willing to help you. There’s more to it than that.” She accuses you with a playful finger wag as you stand there and feel your face heat up.

Because yeah…there was more to it.

The kiss was….electric and made something awaken inside you that seemed to be dormant for years.

And now you were…kind of…sort of…friends.

Fate was so strange sometimes.

“What happened with this boy?” Mrs. Hana asked as Mira raised an eyebrow.

“To make a very long story short, we went to University together and he gave me the nickname BabyBlue after an unfortunate incident with a drink staining a top. Mira here decided that this dress should be almost the same shade of blue because she likes to torture me.” You respond as Mrs. Hana hums and is still working on pinning the straps.

“I didn’t even think about it. I mean, yeah, he’s invited to the wedding, but it’s not like he’s standing up there with you. It will be Jimin, and you know he won’t tease you about it.” Mira points out that you grit your teeth.

Because yeah, Jimin would never.

But he was also Taehyung’s best friend.

“Please don’t tell him about this. I don’t think I can take months of teasing. One day of teasing, sure. But three months. I’ll die.” You plead as Mira giggles at your dramatics.

“I think it’s more of a blue and grey myself, dearie.” Mrs. Hana adds helpfully as Mira snickers behind you, and you fight the urge to shoot her the finger.

Lovingly, of course.

“If he says anything, we are telling him it’s blue-grey.” You snap as Mira is still giggling behind you and luckily for you, the pins are all in place and you can step down and get changed.

Before you know it, you are bowing to Mrs. Hana and exiting the shop back out into the sunshine as you make your way to Mira’s car.

You still have two hours until you have to meet Taehyung and the others, and you tell Mira the boys want you to pick up snacks on the way.

“Fine, we will pick up snacks, but first, we are getting coffee, and you are telling me what the hell happened with you and Taehyung. He’s texting you now? You guys are….friends?” She asks as she puts the car in drive, and you feel yourself blush and play with your fingers.

"Uh, kind of.” You say as Mira gives you a hard stare at a red light.

“Spill.” She says

And you do.

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Taehyung double-checked that his place was clean as he waited for everyone to show up.

He had plenty of movie nights with his friends, but this one was making him especially nervous because you were going to be showing up.

And well

Things were going well with the two of you.

Like, really well.

Most of Taehyung’s friends-with-benefits had just been girls on the side who he texted when he was horny or bored, but with you, he wanted to get to know you. He wanted the friendship part, so he started to send you memes.

You both eased into a sort of friendship, and he found he was enjoying your company.

Taehyung never had a friend who was a girl before….and he kind of liked it.

Nothing else had happened since that night you showed up on his doorstep, soaking wet, and tonight would be the first night he would see you since.

So yeah.

He was nervous.

He decided to wear his comfy black pants that almost looked like dress pants and a tucked-in white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his arms.

He wanted to look nice but not look like he was trying too hard, as he knew his friends would call him out on it right away.

Speaking of his friends, the group chat had been bombarding him with notifications ever since he told them you were his new friends-with-benefits.

Hoseok was weary and wanted to know what the hell had happened.

Jimin was overjoyed and already planning out your dates.

Jungkook was cocky and said he knew the two of you would get together all along.

Taehyung had to explain that no, you two were not dating; he was just helping you write your book, and that was it.

And after much teasing and joking, it seemed his friends finally got it all out of their systems and told him they were happy he finally found someone good.

Taehyung gave up trying to convince them that you both were not a thing, so he muted the chat and went to the gym instead.

He also needed a distraction because that kiss was….

Electric

Hot

Sexual in a way he had never felt before.

Taehyung had never gotten so close to cumming from just a kiss and it kind of scared him.

He didn’t want to mess this up with you. With your vulnerability around sex, with the wedding coming up, he knew there was too much at stake to overthink this, so he would treat it like every other situationship he had.

Keep it cool and chill.

The doorbell ringing made him jump, and he answered it to see Hoseok standing there holding up two giant pizza boxes.

It was always the same.

Taehyung hosted

One of the other boys brought food.

The others brought drinks.

And this time, you and Mira were bringing snacks.

“Hey! Help me with these, will you?” Hoseok asked as Taehyung helped take a box and brought it to the already cleared-off coffee table.

The door opened again, and Jungkook and Jimin entered with drinks in hand as they shucked off their shoes and helped get everything set up.

“So when is your lover arriving?” Jungkook teased Taehyung as he wiggled his eyebrows, and Jimin giggled next to him.

“She’s not my lover; it’s just a friend helping a friend.” He explained as Jungkook’s eyes grew wide and a bigger smile appeared on his face.

“I was talking to Hoseokie. No need to get defensive, Taetae.” He sang almost gleefully as Jimin giggled beside his boyfriend.

“This is her first movie night, so can you all at least try to be on your best behaviour and not scare her away?” Taehyung pleads as the doorbell rings, and he feels his heart start to race under his shirt.

“Ooo, better go answer it, lover boy.” Jimin sings this time as Taehyung shoots him the finger and ruffles his hair before answering the door.

Mira was standing there with bags of snacks in her hands, but Taehyung hardly looked her way as he was too focused on you.

The memory of your kiss plays in his mind.

Shit.

He couldn’t think of that right now, or he would get hard.

You looked nice in a short-sleeved shirt and tight leggings as you smiled softly at him.

“Ah, you did bring snacks, thank you!” He said politely as he moved out of the way to let you in and tried to shoot his friend’s warning looks without getting caught.

Mira handed you the snacks and walked over to Hoseok to wrap him in a kiss, and Taehyung averted his eyes just in time to see Jimin and Jungkook already claiming the main couch by grabbing blankets and tangling up in each other.

“Well, I guess we are the fifth wheel, huh?” He whispers to you as you crack a smile.

“Come on, lovebirds, break it up or the food will get cold,” Taehyung called out as Mira and Hoseok broke from each other, and Hoseok shot Taehyung a glare.

“You guys are going to be together forever; you can kiss whenever you want. This pizza, however, will not last forever so let’s dig in, yeah?” He says as he watches Hoseok bring Mira to the love seat on the left, which means you and Taehyung will be cuddled up in the small recliner.

He grits his teeth.

His friends definitely did this on purpose.

“What about you two? You going to kiss or what?” Jungkook asks, as Jimin covered his mouth with his hands to try to muffle his giggles.

Taehyung rounded the couch and smacked the boy on the back of the head, but you decided to take it a step further and respond with, "You wish Jungkook.” Which caused everyone to burst out into joyous laughter and for Jungkook to blush.

“Kookie, be quiet and pick the movie. I think it’s your turn, which means buckle in, people; we are going to be watching a very boring action flick.” Hoseok said as Jungkook stuck his tongue out at his friend and grabbed the remote.

The recliner was too small to eat comfortably on, so you and Taehyung chose to sit on the floor until you were finished eating.

The lights were dimmed, and the action movie started as the couples all got tangled up in each other, and Taehyung tried his best not to focus on how close you would be sitting to him once the food was done.

After eating, you both made your way to the recliner. Taehyung sat down first, and you had no choice but to lie on your side with your head against his chest and your leg thrown over his. He could see Jimin giving you both heart eyes, and he shooed his friend off as Jimin giggled against Jungkook’s shoulder.

It was nice to have you in his arms.

Taehyung was so used to hard and fast fucking he forgot how nice casual intimacy could be and this was…nice.

About an hour into the movie, Taehyung moved from the recliner to get everyone drinks, and to his surprise, Mira joined him in the kitchen.

“What are your intentions with my best friend?” She asked sharply as Taehyung got to work getting out water bottles for everyone.

“Uh, what?” He asked as the fight scene seemed to be picking up speed, and his walls almost shook from the sound.

“You heard me. What are your intentions with her?” Mira asked with arms crossed and shot Taehyung a sharp look.

He swallowed hard.

“Uh. I mean, she was the one to come to me. I’m helping her with her book.” He stammered, suddenly feeling like a little kid who was in trouble under Mira’s sharp gaze.

“You better not hurt her, Taehyung, or I have the honour of chopping your balls off. It’s in the friendship code.” Mira says as she takes some of the water bottles from his hands.

“I-uh? Did she say the same thing to Hoseok when you two started…?”

“Yes, she did. Again, it’s friendship code.” Mira points out.

“You told me to go easy on her over the phone, and I am. Promise.” Taehyung replied as Mira sent him a curt nod and turned on her heel, heading to the living room with water in hand.

Girls were so weird sometimes.

By the time Taehyung got back, Mira was snuggled into Hoseok’s side, acting like that strange conversation never happened, and Taehyung took his place back on the recliner, grabbing a blanket to throw over both of you as the movie dragged on.

Halfway through the movie, you began to get antsy in his arms and Taehyung watched as you squirmed and looked bored.

“You okay?” He asked lowly as you looked up at him and jut out your bottom lip in an adorable way.

“This movie is so boring. I’m bored.” You whine as Taehyung chuckles.

“Jungkook always picks the worst movies. We all just kind of sit through it.” He assures you as you giggle and bury your face into his chest.

Can you hear how fast his heart is beating?

He hopes not because that would be embarrassing.

You grow silent and stop squirming, so he turns his attention back to the movie, but not for long when he feels the hand across his stomach start to move in slow, soothing circles.

You were massaging his lower stomach where the top of his pants sat, and Taehyung felt oddly comforted by it. You took your time skimming your fingers along his skin, which made the hairs on his arms stand and a shiver run down his spine.

Whatever plan you had, Taehyung sat back and let you do it as the movie seemed to finally get sort of interesting. Though he was having a hard time following the plot when your hand was running across his body like that.

Your sneaky hand slipped into the top of his pants, and Taehyung’s whole body went rigid as you played with his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

You weren’t doing much, just massaging a little lower but it caused his cock to stir under his pants and he gritted his teeth as he tried to stop himself from getting hard around all his friends.

“Is this okay?” You asked softly as you stared up at him with innocent eyes, and he nodded as his teeth dug into his lip because, yup, your hand in his pants was making him hard.

Embarrassingly, achingly hard

He tried to concentrate on the movie… Or that his friends were sitting mere feet away, but when your hand slipped out of his pants to cup his bulge, Taehyung found that he was laser-focused on everything you were doing.

You were innocent in your touches, just taking your time and exploring him as his cock fully hardened under your warm touch.

You looked up at him again, and Taehyung nodded again as you rubbed him from root to tip softly; then, when you seemed to get the hang of that, you applied more pressure, making his eyes nearly roll in the back of his head.

You applied extra pressure to the sensitive head of his cock, which made it leak precum and twitch under your skilled fingers.

What was it about you that turned him into a horny teenage version of himself?

He had many girls put their hands on his cock but it never felt like this.

You continued to rub him through his pants innocently as the movie ended, and when the credits rolled, you pulled your hand away and smiled up at him as if you hadn’t kept him on edge for the last ten minutes.

Taehyung quickly flipped his cock up so it was trapped in his waistband as everyone hopped up and started cleaning.

The sun had set hours ago. Taehyung watched as everyone left, and he was disappointed to see you leaving with Mira giggling at something she said.

Once the door closed, Taehyung grabbed his phone and raced to his room to jerk off.

His cock felt too hot, too hard to go down on its own and fuck… he had to cum.

He closed the door and shoved his pants to his ankles when his phone dinged.

He stared at the message from you with a groan.

You: Made Mira drive me home so she didn’t suspect anything. Is it okay if I come back and we work on some stuff for my book? The movie was just a warm-up.

Taehyung’s heavy cock twitched as he typed out a reply and threw his phone on his bed.

Fuck you were going to jerk him off tonight.

And if he was this hard from some light touches, he knew he would be fucked.

Taehyung placed one hand on the wall and with the other, he fisted his cock. If he didn’t cum now, he knew he would cum the second you got your hand around him. He was too pent-up for this.

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut and just the memory of your body on top of him, grinding into his cock as the prettiest moans left your lips and the way you felt so fucking wet on top of him had hot ropes of cum spurting from his cock as he worked himself through his high.

Thank fuck he jerked off ahead of time because he had not cum that fast since he was a teenager.

Taehyung quickly cleaned himself off as he saw the text, You were on your way.

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He was putting away the blankets when you rang the doorbell, and he quickly straightened up his shirt as he raced to answer the door.

You smiled at him as he let you in, and you took off your shoes as Taehyung stood there awkwardly awaiting the next move.

“Long time no see.” He teased as you grinned and made your way to his couch, but his hand closed around your wrist, stopping your movements.

“The bedroom might be more comfortable.” He states, raising an eyebrow as you nod and follow him through his house, turning off lights as you go.

Taehyung turns on his bedside lamp, which casts everything in a warm glow, and he takes his time rolling down his sheets.

He feels slightly on edge as you enter the room and place your small notebook on his side table.

You asked him if he would be okay with you taking notes as you went, and Taehyung agreed at the time, but now, seeing the notebook with little yellow smiley faces on the cover, it was making him nervous.

“So you survived movie night.” He said softly as he sat on the bed, and you followed his lead.

The air was thick with tension, and Taehyung felt anticipation in the air.

“Yeah, it was good. The movie was awful, though.” You pointed out as Taehyung giggled, and you smiled at him.

“See, hanging out with me isn’t so bad.” He teased.

“The jury is still out on that one, you know.” You tease back, and both of you fall into a comfortable silence.

“How did it go with Mira today?” He asked after a while.

“It went well. She got her dress altered. I also got mine altered.” You explain, looking up at him with a happy smile on your face.

“I know her dress is white but what colour is yours?” He questions as a pretty blush coats your cheeks.

“Did Mira talk to you or something?” You ask suspiciously.

“No. I mean. Yes. But she cornered me in the kitchen and wanted to know my intentions with you. Told me she would chop my balls off if I hurt you,” he explained dramatically, cupping his balls and loving the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed.

“So she gave you the talk. I figured it would happen when I told her what was going on between us.” You explain as you tell Taehyung how, after the dress fitting, you and Mira went out for coffee and she got the story out of you.

You both fell into a silence again, and Taehyung knew he should get to the point of the night, but he didn’t want to just yet. He liked sitting here and talking to you. It was the same feeling he got when you were in his arms; it was just…nice.

“So, how did the kissing scene go? Did your editor like it? I put a lot of work into that, you know.” He says, shooting you a goofy smile.

Your eyes light up, and you begin to babble about how much your editor liked it and how she thought it would change your entire story. You told him how you felt better about writing spicier things and how you were working on some plot for the story, so you had some time before you were thrown into the fire of writing spice again.

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow.

“So why did you want to come over again tonight? Couldn’t get enough of Captain Kim Taehyung?” He puffed out his chest in pride, and you rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him down on the bed, climbing on his lap in a way that made his body light up.

“You know it.” You deadpanned as he sat up against the pillows, keeping you on his lap as he got comfortable.

“No, really, why did you come back tonight? I mean, I have a hot girl in my lap, so I’m not complaining; I’m just…curious.” He asked as his hands were drawn once again to your hips, and he held you steady against him.

“I have a little bit of time before the couple in the book starts something sexual; I just don’t want to wait till the last minute and show up at your door soaking wet and begging you to help me, you know.” You say with a grin.

“It did work out for you last time, you know. From what I remember.” He teases, eyes purposely flicking down to your lips.

“Mhmm, was it that memorable for you?” You ask, batting your eyelashes playfully at him.

“Maybe. I don’t know; you might have to remind me.” He says as you waste no time in capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

-------

Taehyung’s lips feel heavenly against yours, and you take your time savouring the way he tastes faintly like pizza as you move your lips in time with his.

This time you don’t hesitate to rest your core against his cock as you tangle your hands in his hair and kiss him.

Still electric

Still hot

This time, you break away first and take your time exploring his jawline and the spot under his ear that makes his breath hitch and his eyes roll back.

Your hands playfully run down his chest through his shirt, and he shivers as you touch him.

His hands help you rock against the hard ridge of his erection, and you whine when you feel its fullness against your core.

You had to admit touching him during the movie got you a little hot and bothered and you didn’t want to wait to see him again or to finally see his cock, which was why you offered to come back after the movie.

Taehyung moans, bringing you back to reality as you continue to swivel your hips against him, loving the friction.

“Thank fuck I jerked off before you came over. Jesus, the things you do to me.” He whispers as your lips trail down his neck to suck at his collarbones and Taehyung softly pushes you away for a moment so he can take his shirt off.

Your eyes widen when they are met with toned and tanned skin. All those hours of playing soccer gave Taehyung a body that was lean and strong. His chest was defined, his stomach was taut, and you nearly moaned when you saw the small patch of hair that led into his pants.

“I’m magnificent. I know.” He chuckles as you run your hands down his chest and stomach, letting your blunt nails trace over his skin and leave goosebumps in their wake.

“You jerked off before this?” You asked softly as your eyes met his, and you saw the shy blush paint his cheeks and neck as he nodded.

“I, uh, I wanted to last for you. And touching me during the movie. I mean. Fuck.” He explains as you snicker.

“You were going to blow your load from some light touches? The Taehyung I know would never fall so easily.” You tease.

You are desperate to taste his skin so you don’t wait for his reply as you dip your head down and begin to trail kisses down his chest and stomach, making him suck in a breath and grip the sheets.

“I—sh-shut up.” He stammers as you giggle against his skin.

You slowly move off of his cock to kneel beside him and really take him in. The light from the lamp casts his skin in a warm glow, and you can’t help but run your hands down his body again.

God, he is so attractive it’s insane.

And kind of annoying at the same time.

How the hell does he get to walk around looking like this?

You see his cock standing proudly under his pants and the tent it makes is quite impressive.

You felt confident during the movie, even a little powerful but now that the time had come to actually see his cock and make him cum, you had to admit you were a little hesitant.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” He coaxed as your eyes snapped to his, and you ran your hands down your lap in nervousness.

“I’m…nervous.” You whisper as Taehyung smiles softly at you and grabs your wrist, rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.

“What changed? You were fine during the movie.” He asks as you close your eyes and let out a shaky breath.

The truth was you weren’t sure about how good you were at giving handjobs. Anytime you tried to initiate anything sexual with Simon, he usually shut you down. When you actually did have sex with him, he hurried through most of it, almost as if to get it done and over with.

You had made him cum through hand jobs and blow jobs but it was so rare that you weren’t even sure if you had been doing it right.

What if you didn’t do it right?

What if you were awful at it?

What if Taehyung laughed at you?

“Want to do it together?” He asks, snapping you from your thoughts as you nod, and Taehyung calmly grabs your hand.

He brings your hand to his clothed cock and helps you stroke him through the material of his pants.

When you get in a groove, he pulls his hand away and lets you explore.

Just as he did during the movie, he feels hot and hard under your palm. When you rub the head of his cock, you feel it twitch under your fingers and knowing you affect him like that gives you a surge of confidence.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” He moans, throwing his head back against his pillows as his lips part and his tongue darts out to lick them.

You take your time exploring, and when you run a finger up and down his length, Taehyung’s hips jerk into your touch, causing you to giggle.

“I think you were playing me before. You’re a natural.” He praises you as you smile and begin to jerk him while kissing his stomach and chest.

You can feel slight wetness coating your palm and when you look down, you see him leaking through his pants where his cockhead sits and fuck if that doesn’t send a shot of arousal through you.

You stop your movements, which makes Taehyung’s head shoot up as his eyes lock on yours.

“I think. I think we should take your pants off. Before we ruin them, you know.” You explain as Taehyung nods and sits up, looping his fingers through his pants and pulling them down.

-------

You are staring at his cock.

His very erect, very wet cock and you gasp.

Taehyung knew he could tease you a bit and pull his pants down slowly; girls usually loved it when he did that, but he also could feel the nervousness radiating off of you, so he decided to pull his pants down quickly.

His cock smacked against his stomach, smearing it with precum, which made him wince as you studied him.

You gasped, and Taehyung’s eyes snapped to yours to see you staring at his size with shock written all over your face.

“You—holy fuck, no way is that going to fit inside me. You’re huge!” You exclaim, staring down at his length like it was a venomous snake, and Taehyung fights the urge to laugh.

“Already thinking about me fucking you. Kinky.” He teases as you lightly nudge his arm, and Taehyung doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your legs together.

You are trying to be subtle, but he notices.

You’re turned on by the sight of his cock.

God, he can’t wait until you’re comfortable enough to let him get his hands on you.

“No, I just—I mean—I know I felt it; I just didn’t think it was that—you know what? I’m going to shut up now.” You stammer, smacking a hand over your mouth, which causes his lips to twitch.

You were so damn cute when you got all red and flustered.

Which was why he loved teasing you so much.

“You can touch it, you know. It doesn’t bite.” He reminds you as you shoot him a hard stare and uncover your mouth.

You don’t make any moves to touch him, so Taehyung takes matters into his own hands. Literally.

He grabs his shaft and begins to stroke himself slowly, letting you watch how he does it. Hoping it will make you more comfortable with getting your hands on him.

Because the only thing he wants in the world right now is to feel your hand jerking him off.

“It's easy, Babyblue. Just up and down. Slight pressure. I personally like it when the girl plays with the head of my dick but every guy is different.” He coaches as you seem to finally gain the courage you need to circle your fingers around the base of his cock.

Taehyung knows he is bigger than average. He also knows that some girls went after him simply because he was big. However, seeing your small hand wrapped around his base was making him harder than he had ever been.

You slowly and carefully jerked him off as Taehyung let out breathy moans and small encouragements to help you with your confidence.

Every swipe of your hand from root to tip was sending sparks of arousal down his spine, and he could feel his stomach coiling in pleasure.

Eventually, you grew bolder as you began to jerk him faster and apply more pressure. You took the precum that was leaking out of his slit and dragged it down his cock, making his back arch off the bed and moans leave his lips.

You brought your other hand down to lightly cup his balls and his cock twitched and throbbed in your hand as you grinned wickedly at him.

Yeah, you were getting the hang of it now.

And yeah, it was turning Taehyung on more and more.

You waste no time in jerking him and once again bringing your lips to kiss his warm skin. The combination of your hand and lips sends Taehyung arching off the bed again, and he tightens his hands into the sheets.

He needed something to anchor himself, or else he was convinced he would float away in space.

That’s how good you were making him feel.

Your hot kisses continued down his stomach and when you kissed the root of his cock, he nearly cried out at how good it felt.

You remove your hand to kiss up his length, and when you suckle the head, he hisses, and you pull back in shock, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Teeth. Just be careful… don’t stop. Please.” He almost begs as you nod and bring your lips to his cockhead.

This time you focus on light kisses and small sucks as Taehyung is losing his mind under your ministrations.

You grow bolder as you suck his cock head into your mouth, being careful of your teeth as you hollow out your cheeks and make him cry out and thrust into your mouth.

You don’t seem to mind as you bring your hand back to his shaft and jerk him off in time with your sucks.

Taehyung gets the hint as he continues to lightly fuck your mouth as you work him faster, making the coil in his stomach tighten even more.

Oh god, it feels so good.

Oh god, he’s going to cum.

He doesn’t want to. He wants it to last forever.

If somehow he ever got the death penalty, the last thing he would want before he goes is your wet mouth against his cock.

It feels like heaven.

“Gonna-fu-fuck. Close.” He warns as you gather your spit and coat his cockhead with it before pulling your mouth away and jerking him off.

The wet noises echo through his room and Taehyung grips the sheets harder as you twist your wrist in the right way, and he loses it, back shooting off the bed as he throbs and coats your fist in warm, sticky cum.

Taehyung’s breathing is ragged.

His body is coated with a sheen of sweat and when he finally opens his eyes, you are removing your hand and slowly licking the cum off your fist.

Oh, fuck.

His cock gives a pathetic twitch against his stomach as he swallows hard.

“Stay here; I’ll get something to clean up.” You say to him as you lightly pat his thigh and head to the bathroom.

Taehyung closes his eyes and puts a hand over his heart in an attempt to slow it down. That was incredible. And wonderful. And he wants it again.

Maybe not right away.

But in the future, for sure.

You come back into the room with a damp washcloth and you take your time wiping at his cock and his pubes. You hum lightly under your breath, which he finds cute.

You put the washcloth back in the bathroom and make your way over to him.

Taehyung slips under the covers, and you do the same as you grab your notepad and begin to scribble everything down.

Taehyung reaches for his phone and rolls his eyes when he sees the group chat is still going on about you and him being a thing.

He doesn’t bother responding as he sees you close the notebook and place it on his bedside table.

“You okay?” He asks softly as you curl into his side and place your head on his chest. His arms encircle you and hold your body against his.

“I think I should be the one asking you that.” You giggle as your hair tickles his bare skin, and he runs his fingers up and down your arm.

“I meant what I said earlier. I think you were playing me. You’re incredible.” He compliments you as he kisses your temple, and you sigh happily in his arms.

“I don’t have a whole lot of experience, but I’m glad you liked it, and it’s really helping with my book and my confidence, so thank you.” You say as Taehyung suddenly feels crestfallen.

Right

This was for your book.

The wedding was in three months, and even though you still had more learning to do, he felt like the end was fast approaching. He didn’t want it to end yet. He liked hanging out with you.

Taehyung didn’t know what to do with these feelings because usually, he was the one to want situations like this to end. The girls became stale or wanted more, and he had to end it.

With you, though.

He was growing sad even thinking about it ending.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” You tease, bringing him back to reality as he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

If he told you what he was thinking about, it might scare you away, so Taehyung fell back on his old tactic of deflection and teasing.

“Just thinking about how I can’t wait to get my hands on you.” He jokes, playfully twirling your hair in his fingers.

“If you think I was nervous tonight, you're in for it when it’s my turn. I’m going to be a wreck.” You warn.

He smiles and presses another kiss to your temple.

“Just like we did tonight, we will take it slow. Gotta prep you for my cock. I think I remember you saying it was huge.”

You groan against his chest as his laughter rings out through the room.

“It was a heat-of-the-moment thing!” You defend.

“Sure, Babyblue. Whatever you say.” He teases.

“Want to watch another episode of your show? I think you got me hooked from last time.” You ask as he grins and reaches for the remote, loving the feeling of being home on a Saturday night with you curled up in his arms.

TAGLIST

@likecrazy22

@kelsyx33

@miksancheese

@jimeg629

@eegyo

[apatouria]

hey y'all! my name is harley (he/they) and i present you with moon sikyung, our snake canon. he's (one of) onyang's resident morticians, and the moons have been at it for a long while. i'm still working on my profile details, but sikyung's bio is up here! under the cut i'll be putting a bulletpoint of most of the important stuff. if you wanna reach out to plot or dm here or on discord feel free to! my handle on discord is radkxng. without further ado, here's some basics!

sikyung may be a mortician, but he does his best to be approachable. he has a rather kind smile, and deals gently wherever he can. in conversations, sikyung prefers to ask questions rather than answer them.

it's not meekness, though; sikyung carries himself with confidence, and while he doesn't try to attract attention (especially not negative attention), he does admittedly thrive in it a bit when he's the center of it.

the morgue has been in his family for generations. inheriting it wasn't one of sikyung's big dreams or whatever, but he decided not to dread it. he uses it to his advantage as much as he can, keeping general tabs on the population and, in his mind, help keep them safe. as someone who struggles to deeply connect with people, sikyung also likes the sympathy it gives him.

sikyung tries to at least establish a hello with most of the people in their small town -- after all, he knows one day most of the people in their small town will end up on his table.

he's rather kind, and appears to be rather open, but a lot of that openness is...not fake, per se, but a bit of an illusion or a tool. sikyung very rarely gets close enough to people to divulge his true thoughts and feelings (especially with regards to the folklore of the town) but he tries to present enough "surface level depth" (as he calls it) to maintain his friendships while remaining possibly all too cautious.

his father died of a heart attack a couple of years ago, and shortly after his mother retired - too tired, hands aching from so much detail work over the years. now, sikyung more or less runs it on his own.

i feel like im forgetting something so obvious but idfk what

hi :>

o as far as plots go idk about anything in specific yet! but esp if you have an angsty plot idea (but i'll take anything! i just thrive in ic conflict - even if not direct, even if it's just something lurking. aaah. or not conflict between them but with sth else idk i hope u get my drift! it also just makes sense w his job and his uhh melancholy self beneath the veneer of soothing cheer)

maybe someone actually close enough to sikyung to try and chip away at all his layers of presentation?

[quatregats]

Started working on planning out Hornblower Genderflu since it won the poll, and boy are there a lot of things cooking here at once

[dallonwrites]

at first i was writing a lot of grief stuff to process my own which is still the case but at this point it's mostly the grief has been here for so long and is not going away so and i'm tired so i might as well have fun with it

[aeyumicore]

misty invasion - no restraint

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: xavier x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 5k words (jesus i even cut 1k out)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘no restraint’ (xavier’s misty invasion card), switch!xavier, slightly dark!xavier, super possessive!xav, so much pussy eating, nose stroking clit, cumming on pussy then using as lube, mating press, sensory play but not actually, thigh biting, ankle kissing, foot massage, slight finger sucking, slight dub-con somno at the end, use of y/n

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | zayne's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: sorry this is late! I’ve been dealing with some harassment but won’t get into that here. You guys have been waiting so patiently for this one and i’m so excited to finally share it with you guys. I love writing and it’s incredible to have people to share my passion with, so please enjoy xavier fuckers!

part three is our dear xavier! idk how this one got so long i cut 1k words and its still 5k LOL somehow longer than sylus’s? i haven’t written for xavier in sooo long so this was both challenging but fun! I miss him <3 I wrote xavier as more dark!xav than the soft xavier, but there’s definitely a good mix of both

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

As a Hunter, you’ve had to thoroughly train your senses to be as adept and and accurate as possible, to keep yourself, your fellow Hunters, and the citizens of Linkon safe.

Sight. The ability to track every micromovement a Wanderer made and react in milliseconds. Being able to quickly spot things that don’t belong, indicating something more sinister.

Hearing. Being able to detect even the mutest of sounds. The muffled shuffling of leaves, a slight creak in the wind that could warn you of incoming danger.

Smell. The almost imperceptible scent of different species of Wanderers, each one specific to each genus, able to provide valuable information on what to expect.

Touch. The distinct textures of your different UNICORN issued tools and weapons, the simplest grooves and ridges helping you quickly discern what is what in moments of life or death.  

What you hadn’t necessarily needed was the sense of taste, but that wouldn’t be a sense you’d need as a Hunter. Right?

In the soft glow coming from the protocore you and him had confiscated from an illegal protocore trade, Xavier sat at the foot of the bed you’d be sharing tonight. The soft orange light emanating from the protocore casts a vaguely romantic atmosphere around the two of you. It was suffocating and addicting all at once.

Perhaps it was your fault, you’d teased him, claiming the protocore in question had dulled your senses, a side effect from its unique Protocurves. A clear and obvious lie. 

But you hadn’t expected him to respond so boldly. 

To test your sense of sight, moving from his spot across the hotel room to approach the foot of the bed, sitting so closely that you could see the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, gliding along the grooves of his muscled abdomen.

To test your sense of smell, leaning in so teasingly close to you that the soft clean smell of his pheromones, akin to fresh laundry blowing in the spring breeze, invaded your very essence. 

To test your sense of hearing, whispering dangerously sultry but innocent words under his breath to taunt you, seeing if you could hear how much he wanted you. 

To test your sense of touch, reaching out to grasp your face into his fingers, warm from the hot shower he’d taken. So daringly caressing your warm cheek in his palm, with a heated desire that you knew could consume you whole. 

It was truly all enough to drive you utterly insane, at the point of no return, nearly jumping him right then and there.

Perhaps Xavier could see that, deciding to give you a temporary reprieve from all the “sensory tests” to complete a test of his own 

His voice is a faint murmur, “Before the rain stops, is there anything you want to do?” His words sound less like a question and more like a plea. Bordering on a demand. 

At his words, your eyes trail to the body lotion you’d set on the nightstand next to the Protocore. You’d just been about to apply it before Xavier had come out of the shower. You bite your lip at the thought of his strong hands rubbing the expensive cream into your aching muscles. Xavier’s eyes follow yours, and he smiles gently, standing up to grab it from the side table. 

He unscrews it, the soft scent of strawberries wafting in the space between you. Under the soft glow of the Protocore, Xavier’s face is flushed, his breath unusually heavy. His eyes are focussed on the body lotion, but you can just barely see the stormy heat behind them. 

“What, are we testing your senses now?” you tease him, sitting up with your hands hugging your knees. 

Xavier sits back down on the bed, the mattress dipping at your feet. Your toes brush against the soft silk of his bathrobe, the knot even looser now, leaving far too little to imagination. His voice is gentle, but urgent, “The Protocore’s Protocurves can…dull a person's senses.” 

He places his palm gently on the underside of your thighs, pulling your bare calves toward him. His touch is impossibly soft, yet strangely enough it leaves your skin burning. You let your body be guided towards him until his chest is practically pressed against your knee. With your bare calf in his hands, it makes it difficult to think. But you do your best to speak, “So…are you affected by it too?”

As Xavier smears the lotion across your flushed skin, he murmurs, “Maybe.” He takes another scoop of the cream into his fingers.

“It’s possible…I won’t be able to feel you anymore from now on.” His eyes are trained on your leg as he speaks, fingers wandering from your knee to your exposed thigh. Though you both know his senses were, and would be, perfectly fine, the longing in both his low voice and dark eyes felt completely real.

As his hands rub into your skin, his fingers briefly find their way under your nightdress. He leans down, resting his chin on your knee. He practically hugs your legs to his chest, the opened jar of lotion still in hand. WIth his curious fingers on your thigh, under the lace hem of your nightdress, you try and distract him from your flushed face. You take a small dollop of the lotion in his hands, teasingly brushing it to his nose.

“What’s the fragrance? Can you smell it?” Xavier’s face on your bare knee doesn’t move, but his eyes flit up to yours, dark and amused. 

He has a barely perceptible smirk, fingers stroking small shapes into the area where your lace nightie meets the skin of your exposed thighs, “Strawberry.” He sounds uncharacteristically self-assured, his chin moving down so that he can smell your skin. 

You shiver as you feel the cool inhale of his nose against your knee. His lips ghost along your leg as he breathes in the scent, lingering for so long you’re nearly quivering against his hold. His hand grips your thigh possessively as he murmurs, “Or maybe...that scent…is cherry.” The way he buries his face into your legs, inhaling so deeply, is nearly enough to have you passing out.

He comes back to nuzzle his chin into your knee, glancing up at you in an expression that is eerily dark and soft all at once, “Was I right?” His words are gentle but there’s an exhilarating taunt underneath them. It only makes you want to taunt him back.

You reach for his ear, noticing it’s unusually peachy pink, stroking along the soft lobe, “Here’s another test. What do you think my hand is doing right now?” Xavier’s eyes close at your touch, his breath heavy and hot against your thigh. His brows furrow, and if it weren’t for the way he leaned into your touch for more, you’d almost think he was in pain. 

As his eyes flicker open to meet yours, you take his cheek into your hands. There’s a vague haziness in them, almost like he’s having a hard time keeping them open, drunk off even your slightest touches. He sits up, leaning into your hand.

“You need to do it harder,” he urges, desperation making itself known in his sultry voice. Your hand trails down his ear, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw and making its way to Xavier’s bobbing neck. 

Your fingers move intentionally, trailing down to his collar until they rest on his chest, “What about now?” 

Though his chest heaves, his blue eyes smolder with an unbridled confidence, “...Too gentle.” He looks at you with an unspoken plea in his eyes, begging you to touch him more. Harder.

You let your shaking fingers toy torturously with the reddened skin on his sharp collarbone, swirling your fingertips on his pounding chest. You bite your lip, enjoying the way his breath comes out in needy pants, the look of desperation on his parted lips growing stronger by the second, “If you still haven’t felt it…”

Xavier continues your thought, cerulean eyes filled with a desperate longing, “If I haven’t felt it…” You gasp as he grabs your wrist forcefully, bringing it back up to his face.

His grip is commanding, caressing your palm with his soft cheek, his breath fanning the inside of your hand. His movements are almost imperceptible, until you feel his lips closing over your middle finger. You’re unable to stop the shiver as his tongue grazes against your trembling finger, his lips caressing your skin in his mouth.

Xavier desperately hopes you keep your eyes trained on his, and not the embarrassingly prominent tent under his thin robe, throbbing for your attention. His breath is hot as he pants against your finger, “...does this mean I’m a lost cause?”

You pull your hand away, unable to withstand the effect his lips enclosing in your fingers is having on your body, your thighs clenching together under your own robe and nightgown. 

“What should we do?” you murmur before softly clutching his shoulder, pulling him closer until you can whisper into his ear for a little hearing test. You let your lips graze his reddened earlobe, before whispering.

“Xavier.”

It comes out far more sultry and seductive than you’d originally intended, betraying your body’s true desires. Xavier apparently shares those same desires, because as he hears you gasp out his name his body has a visceral reaction. 

His heart pounds so rapidly he’s almost sure you’d be able to hear it, his muscled chest rising and falling in an irregular rhythm. His face looks almost anguished, fighting an internal war against himself. He glances towards you, his eyes dark with unbridled desire. 

“Oops. Looks like something broke,” you grin cheekily, thoroughly amused by his reaction, fueled with confidence. 

Xavier’s eyes are so dark they’re nearly black as they drink in the sight of your beautiful smile, as you sit with your knees up on the mattress. The next thing you know, Xavier’s is pushing you down, your back hitting the plush mattress and your robe fluttering open to reveal your flimsy nightdress. 

Xavier stands above you, before his hand comes down to grip the mattress beside your head, pinning you down. His eyes trail up your body, savoring every exposed centimeter of soft skin, before boring into your beautiful eyes. His body is pressed gently into yours, and you can very much make out just how excited he’s become. The area between your thighs moistens at the feeling of his arousal pressed into your stomach. 

“Your sensory test isn’t over yet,” he grunts, his face tortuously close to yours. His eyes are hooded dangerously, an imminent threat reflected in his ocean blue eyes. He leans forward, so close his torrid breath fans against your parted lips.

“Let’s do a taste test,” he murmurs, eyes shutting as he finally closes the distance between your lips in a toe-curling passionate embrace. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, which you happily part to give him access. He moans into you as he indulges in how delicious you taste, quickly addicted to your soft and warm tongue against his. 

When he finally pulls away, he’s a complete and utter mess. His breath is uneasy and rapid, his body contorting with the rhythm of his pounding chest. His fingers have found their way into yours, effectively pinning you securely against the bed under his hard body. 

“Xavier…” you gasp, squeezing his fingers, “Even someone like you can lose your composure, huh?”

As your bodies heave together, Xavier takes thick and deep lungfuls of your scent, his face buried into your neck.

“One doesn’t need that much composure,” he groans before diving back into the crook of your neck, lips latching onto your pulse. 

As he holds you, gently suckling at your neck, you prod him, “What are you thinking of?”

Xavier hesitates, his lips hovering centimeters above your skin, before murmuring, “Something…indecent.”

You bite back your grin, thoroughly enjoying how needy he’s becoming. With his body still atop of yours, you bring your lips to his ear letting your wet lips stroke against his earlobe. 

“Xavier…” you purr, “Tell me what you’re thinking of.”

You can see Xavier’s neck throb with a thick gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. It’s then he decides he’s done playing games. 

He sits up eerily calmly, until he’s on his knees at your feet. His fingers trail down your bare thighs, to your calves, and to your feet. You squirm at his fleeting trail of touches, squeaky moans of anticipation slipping from your lips.

As his hands slide down your legs, he lifts your foot into his hands, fingers kneading your aching sole. You moan, your eyes squeezing shut at just how wonderfully Xavier knows your body, knows how to touch you. 

You’re so caught up in the feeling of his hands on your ankles that you don’t notice the way he cups your calf, raising your leg into the air as he caresses it. It’s not until the distinct feeling of his warm lips meet the bottom of your calf do your eyes screw open.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you, Xavier placing a feathery trail of kisses down your calf all the way to your foot. As he tenderly kisses your ankle, his eyes open to watch you with a hungry gaze. 

“The Protocore’s effects…I think we need a stronger test,” he mutters, his mouth rubbing against your ankle still. He sets your leg on his shoulder, gently spreading your thighs apart. 

You blush as your legs part, leaving little to imagination as Xavier situates himself between your legs, one propped on his muscled shoulder and one hooked above his forearm, “Xavier?”

He doesn’t respond, eyes trained on the glistening patch of dampness that adorns your panties. It takes all of him not to drool right over your half naked form right then and there. As his head lowers to kiss your thighs, you tremble at his proximity to your throbbing cunt that leaks with desire and arousal.

“I-Is this…strong enough?” you squeak, his tongue lapping slow circles around the areas his teeth graze. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he indulges in the taste of your legs, eyeing the beautiful way your panties are creasing against the lips of your pussy. He can practically feel the heat coming off you and it makes him bite hard. 

You squeal, your back arching up and fingers reaching down to pull at his soft hair. It’s impossible not to enjoy the sharp graze of his canines and the contrastingly adoring caress of his tongue. Too distracted by the pleasure, you don’t feel the embarrassing slick dripping down your thighs.

But Xavier does.

He detaches his lips from your thighs, briefly admiring the handful of flowering red bruises littered against both your plush legs. 

“It’s…stronger. But this…” he trails off, and that’s when you feel his fingers hooking your soaked panties to the side. You yelp as his fingers languidly swipe at your folds, coating himself in your arousal and bringing it up to his mouth. 

You watch in a mixture of embarrassment and desire as he slips his fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around his digits and eyes shut in utter bliss. 

When his blonde lashes finally flutter open, his hazy pupils are dilated amongst the sea of azure, piercing into your own.

“This, I can taste,” he grins gently at you. It’s so effortlessly Xavier, yet something sinister lurks beneath his soft smile. Something that makes you shake to your very core.

You don’t have time to ponder the darkness behind his smile, because Xavier is gripping you by your hips, bringing the apex of your thighs to his waiting mouth, salivating at the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt. His eyes flit from your core to your eyes, your upper body propped up on your elbows as you watch his heated gaze devour you. 

“Please…” Xavier rasps, his voice guttural and desperate. The proximity of his face to your weeping cunt lets you feel his hot breath fan against your quivering pussy, “Please let me.”

You’re speechless, so you nod fervently, gripping his soft hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Xavier wastes no time, burying himself into you. You gasp, spine curling at the force of his demanding lips against your cunt.

You’d think Xavier had been starved for days, the way he latches onto your lips, his tongue eagerly lapping at your slit, savoring every drop of your sweet essence. You thrash at the unrelenting pleasure, as Xavier’s bruising grip holds you in place. 

“Let me enjoy you, please,” he groans, nose rubbing into your clit deliciously, “Who knows if I’ll ever be able to taste you again?”

You whimper at his filthy words, trying to stay still as he ravishes you with his skilled tongue. The lewd slurps and moans that come from him are enough to drive you to the edge of insanity, unable to contain your furious writhing. Xavier only digs his fingers harder into the plush of your thighs, doing his best to keep you in place.

Xavier moans into you, the vibrations of his pleasured sounds thrumming straight into your body. He doesn’t let a single droplet of your nectar go to waste, his tongue lapping diligently. There’s absolutely no shortage of it, as his pointed nose brushes against your clit, his tongue stroking sweetly into your lips. 

“You taste like heaven, Y/N,” Xavier moans into your folds. The vibrations of his filthy words send you reeling and you can barely hear him, only able to respond in the whiniest moans, too wrapped up in the pleasure his mouth so skillfully brings you. 

“Xavier!” you cry, toes digging into the ropes of muscles on his back.

You can vaguely feel one of Xavier’s hands abandon your thigh, moving to free his cock from under his loose robe. You can’t see much, but you can see the way his forearm jerks up and down, the veins in his arms bulging as he pleasures himself, fueled by the taste of you. 

“O-oh f-fuck!” you cry, your back arched, the soles of your feet pressing into Xavier’s back, “Xavier…p-please don’t – nngh – stop!”

Through your widely spread legs, you can see just how aroused Xavier is by your pleas. His fingers can barely wrap around his thick girth. They move up and down effortlessly, coated in his copious pre-cum. It honestly looked like he already came with just how much of his slick was smeared on himself. He’s so impossibly angry and red as he thrusts into his own fist, your tongue unconsciously licking your lips at the sight. 

You’re only snapped out of your mesmerized staring when his lips latch onto your clit, tongue lapping eagerly against the throbbing nub of nerves. His lips suckling at your clit, tongue stroking so sweetly, is just enough to have you coming completely undone all over Xavier’s face. 

You try to pull always as you feel the warm gush coming, but Xavier only holds you down harder with his arm wrapped around your thigh, his hands jerking up and down his leaking erection even more desperation. With nowhere to run, your body thrashes erratically in his forceful arm. Your back arches into the air, your head digging into the plush mattress, as you squirt over Xavier’s insistent tongue. 

You’re well into the depths of overstimulation, feebly pushing his head away, whispering brokenly, “X-Xavier. S’too much, please.”

But he can’t seem to hear you, too wrapped up in your taste, in you. Your body curls in a stinging pleasure as he continues to devour you, positively starved. 

The lewd slurps of his face in your wet thighs, your unabashed moans and cries of ecstasy, the taste of your release against his greedy tongue, and his forceful grip on his cock drive him to his own orgasm. 

He forces himself to pull away, his lips wet with your slick, your body collapsing but still slightly elevated with your calf thrown over his shoulder. With his position kneeling at your feet, your right leg still by his neck, his cock spurts right onto your quivering and overstimulated pussy. 

“H-holy,” Xavier groans breathlessly, hands still jerking himself up and down as rope after rope lands on your glistening cunt. His spend is so deliciously hot against your sensitive skin that you can’t stop the full body tremors that wrack your body. His copious streams of cum start to drip off your quivering cunt, pooling on the mattress beneath you.

Xavier leans forward, clutching your thigh as his body heaves with an overwhelming  satisfaction. His fingers dig into your already bruised thighs, his breath heavy and desperate. 

You want to giggle at his ruined state, stroking his back teasingly with your toes, your calf still resting on his shoulder. Your fingers reach for his ear to caress his cheek and tease him with your words from earlier, “So little composure. Adorable”

Xavier’s gaze, longing and soft, twitches. Before you know it, your back is flat against the bed once more, both your legs pressed against your chest. Your feet hang in the air above your head, Xavier’s heaving body pressed on top of you, something hard and wet pressing into your still trembling core.

Out of sheer surprise, you cry out, “X-Xavier?” Your hands instinctively come up to cup his face.

Xavier doesn’t speak, his eyes trained on your cunt as he runs his tip up and down your folds. When he finally looks up at you, there’s a dark almost feral look in the storm of his cerulean eyes. A look of unbridled animalistic heat. 

He bends down, his beautiful face dangerously close to yours as he smirks, “Isn’t this what you wanted, angel?” 

You shiver at his unusually edged words, eyes widening as you nod gently. Unable to deny the truth of his words. You knew it, and he knew it. You absolutely always wanted him, especially when he was this unhinged. 

Xavier smiles, it’s deceptively gentle as you can see the dangerous glint in his eyes, “I know, Y/N. So, please. Let me give it to you.” Though he begs, you can tell he’s not really asking. Not that you minded. You’d give him absolutely everything. 

So you nod, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Xavier smiles, finger stroking your cheek. With his other hand, he takes his cock, rubbing his cockhead into your sopping folds, smearing his cum messily around. He’d spurt so much milky seed onto your pussy that it quite literally felt like a bottle of lube had been squirted onto you. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. For a brief second, the bright light returns to Xavier’s eyes as he adoringly watches you, with so much affection in his azure eyes. It’s gone just as quickly as it comes, his cock splitting you apart as he thrusts into you. 

You cry out, unable to do anything but take him, your legs caged against both your bodies. The mating press he has you in is so mean, his hard strong body so imposing as he thrusts into you. It’s so easy for him to slide inside you, his cum on your skin even slicker than lube. 

Xavier’s breathy moans wash over you at every single mean thrust, his smoldering eyes never leaving yours as he ruts into you like a madman. A man positively starved. And only one thing could satisfy him. 

His hands press into the mattress beside your head, his entire body boxing you in, with only your thighs separating you. You wish he could hold you closer, press deeper into you, as deep as his cock was currently in your throbbing pussy. 

“X-Xav…” your squeal. The position he has you in gives him easy access to your most sensitive spots. Xavier only moans in response, not typically a man of many words when it comes to being buried in your guts. 

Which is why you’re surprised when he grits out, “Mine.”

You’re so surprised, mind so clouded with his massive girthy cock, that you gasp out, “W-What?”

Xavier’s smirk is faint, almost imperceptible, “You’re mine. I would never leave you.”

His pointed thrusts make you cry out in pleasure, losing your train of thought again. His smile grows more confident at your inability to speak, “Isn’t that what you told James? That your partner left you?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, before realizing he's talking about the man you’d been flirting with for information at the protocore trade, “J-James? You – hnngh – y-you mean Henrik’s idiot – nngh – bodyguard?” 

Xavier drives into you with an even more mind-numbing intensity at the mention of another man. You can see his jaw twitches, his eyes swimming with shadowy emotions.

“What do you think he took you up to the sixth floor for?” he growls, uncharacteristically and darkly gruff, “For this?” 

To punctuate his point he slams his pelvis into your ass, the lewd pap sound of wet skin against wet skin deafeningly loud. 

“It’s too bad for him. You’re mine.” His words are a sweet threat, with no violence and all the passion in the world behind them.

The raw possession in his voice makes you approach your orgasm far too quickly. Your thighs shake uncontrollably at the strain, but even more so at the pleasure Xavier drives into your gummy walls. His cock is so thick that your body burns with pleasure as he stretches you to your limit, your walls sucking him tightly, unwilling to let go. 

Xavier moans at the unbelievably incredible feeling of your walls tightening against him, trying to wring him into you. Xavier’s thrusts become more erratic as he comes closer to his own release, and you’re desperate to cum with him, your orgasm impossibly iminent. 

You know just how to send him over the edge, as you take his jaw into your fingers, his chest pressed into the fat of your thighs as he folds you quite literally in half. Xavier looks surprised but lets his face be guided to yours, his eyes still holding glimmers of shadows held back by a thin shred of restraint. 

“Xavier,” you whisper, trying to keep your orgasm at bay so you can experience simultaneously with the blonde haired man deliciously rearranging your guts, “I’m yours, always.” 

Xavier’s eyes darken, his eyebrows furrowing, as his body responds to your sweet words. His thrusts are harder, rougher, and all the more forceful and demanding. He’s utterly desperate to feel you cum atop his cock, his beautiful girl. Entirely and completely his. 

“Yeah? Then cum for me, please.” His voice is a guttural growl, matching the animalistic intensity of his body pounding into yours. But he stutters just a bit, as you can practically feel the veins in his thick cock throbbing against your pulsing walls.

With Xavier’s intense eyes on yours, your body folded mind numbingly against his hard chiseled body, his filthy possessive words fanning across your lips, it’s impossible to keep your orgasm back any longer. 

You cum with a strangled cry of his name, your elbows bending so your fingers can furiously claw at the sheets by your head. Xavier moans out at how tightly your cunt grips him amidst your climax, absolutely forcing the orgasm out of him. 

You’re a moaning whining mess as Xavier fucks his seed into you. Even after his first orgasm, there’s so much cum, both inside and outside. The area where your bodies are joined is a sticky mess of cum and saliva.

Xavier is no better, the grunts and babbles streaming from his own mouth an absolute symphony to your ears.

“That’s it, love,” he rasps, “So good for me. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

You stroke Xavier’s soft blonde hair as his thrusts slow to an eventual stop. His softening cock is still in you, and you wince as you can vaguely feel it slipping out. Your hips scream in discomfort, your thighs still pressed firmly into your chest as Xavier gasps for air above you. 

You whimper as he shifts, and instantly Xavier is back to his usual soft self, fawning over you, “Are you okay?” It’s honestly insane how quickly he switches, because as his blue eyes search yours, you notice the darkness is gone. All that’s left is that starry glimmering sea of ultramarine, soft, concerned, and loving.

“H-heavy,” you whine, tapping at his thick shoulders. Xavier’s off of you in a flash, his soft cock slipping out as sits on his knees before you. He hovers over you, careful not to put any weight on you, as he brushes your tangled hair off  of your sweaty forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing along your flushed cheek, “Was I…Did I take it too far?”

“No, never,” you mumble happily, draping your arms over his neck. Through his gentle smile that could move the stars, you can see how exhausted Xavier is, but he continues to stroke circles into your skin. His hands reach down to massage your bruised thighs, hickeys littering every inch of you. The serene intimacy of the moment is enough to lull you towards sleep, despite the mess between your legs. 

–

You must’ve nodded off for a few minutes, because when you open your bleary eyes you see Xavier between your legs, carefully wiping the sticky mess away. 

“Xav, s’okay,” you whisper sleepily, stirring in his careful hands and barely able to string together complete sentences, “Clean tomorrow, sleep now.”

“It’s okay, angel,” he murmurs, his voice so warm and dreamy. He holds you gently in place as he continues to wipe you off, “Go back to sleep.”

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands soothing your aching muscles, losing the fight against sleep, “You don’t feel tired?” 

Xavier chuckles, the sound meeting your ears even in your half-conscious state, “I can still feel. But I think I may need another…taste test.”

You can hear the mischief in his voice even if you’re too exhausted to open your eyes.

“Just sleep honey, let me take care of you.”

Something about the playful heat in his voice makes you doubt he’s just going to be cleaning you up with the warm towel he had in his hands. And the thought of that excites you beyond belief, even as you succumb to sleep. 

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

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[wingfleur]

# — calling mark grayson "small."

got fried as fuck and this shit came to me like a prophecy. a dream. i know i have my to-do list, but it’s hard for me to write stuff i’m no longer in the exact headspace for. like, i need to wait until i can get into it enough to feel it the way i did when i first thought of it. anyways, this is set in a universe that’s pretty canon-compliant: mark and amber broke up, but he hasn’t dropped out of college (yet) or ended up with eve. you also have no clue he’s invincible, just that he’s had a glow up and your cute, dorky friend from high school is now fine as shit. i also listened to “party favors” by leon thomas and big sean the entire time i worked on this.

lastly, i'd like to give a humongous shoutout to @omniphilic for beta-reading this monster for me! much love, sunshine, and godspeed, my children. enjoy! | wc: 7.9k words.

cw: nsfw mdni (18+), afab!reader, a lot of porn with a lot of plot, light angst, confessions, banter, friends-to-lovers, mentions of amber (i love you girl but it’s so easy to use you as a plot device </3), oral sex (f!recieving), explicit sex (p in v), missionary, squirting, dirty talk, praise, soft!dom mark, consider this my apology for the hurt/very little comfort v!card mark x reader fic <3

thinking about you joking around with mark grayson and calling him… small. you know where.

it sounds like such a silly scenario, but walk w/ me: you and mark have an… odd friendship. looking back on it, you two were an unlikelier pair than winning the lottery. you’re from completely different worlds– you were more on the straight and narrow: the academic side of things. all you did was bust your ass, and you had plenty to show for it– friends, awards, this air of recognition that followed you from classroom to classroom.

and mark? well, he fell more into the category of incredibly average. average grades, average social life, even an average reputation amongst the student body– the kind that makes you easy to remember and always gets you labeled as a “pretty cool guy,” but keeps you out of any real trouble. maybe that’s part of his charm– the fact that everything about him is initially so unassuming, so run of the mill that you don’t even think twice. not until you start to get to know him.

there’s plenty that sticks out once you get to know him.

then, somehow, at the start of your senior year, you two ended up partnered together for a project in the same upper-level english class. y’know, the college freshman one everyone takes because it’s a cheap credit, regardless of if they’re going to harvard to study law, or to the local community college to save a bit of money. neither of you had many expectations, but you and mark became fast friends. mark’s awkward charm grew on you, and he already had a decent opinion of you from seeing you around, but finally being in a situation where he could talk to you and not feel like a nuisance only made him think of you more highly than before. you were cool as shit; he has no idea how you two hadn’t spoken sooner.

but it’s no surprise that you two absolutely nailed the project. with your smarts and mark’s willingness to learn, the grade on it ended up being so good that it made you jump into mark’s arms out of pure excitement. mark caught you effortlessly, spinning you around and giggling alongside you without a second thought. the intimacy of such a reaction didn’t dawn on you two until long after he set you down, you grinning giddily in his face, while he could do nothing but grin back.

that’s how you ended up here– lying in mark’s bed, long after graduation, and visiting home from campus on a long weekend. you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and reading one of his copies of seance dog as he works on a paper. when you found out you two would be attending the same university, you were more than stoked. mark was stoked too, but he was so sure you could’ve gotten into one of chicago’s finest, or, better yet, move away from illinois entirely, rather than attend upstate university. he gave you a hesitant look when you said you were more than content with your choice, saying that a degree is a degree no matter where you went and that as long as you could be with mark, it would be worth it. deep down, though, mark swore something bloomed in his chest that day. he doesn’t really know what that feeling was– is, to be more accurate, because he still feels it sometimes– but that’s the least of his worries. 

his main worry is getting this paper in by 11:59 pm tonight. 

and just like that, the rhythmic clacking of mark’s fingers against the keyboard fills the silence and leaves you to bask in this comforting sensation of warmth. you’re so relaxed that you can’t bring yourself to move. not that you would have wanted to, anyway.

it’s peaceful. so, of course, you have to ruin it. 

“you ever want to fuck a cartoon character?” you suddenly say, the copy of seance dog in your hand and your foot crossed over your knee. you hear the way mark’s typing pauses for a moment, and imagining his reaction forces you to bite back a snicker. a pregnant silence fills the room before the typing begins again, just as rhythmic and hypnotic as before.

“i know you’re not saying that about seance dog,” mark finally quips back, his voice dripping with an absurd amount of mirth. you can hear his smile in his voice– you always can, because mark rarely doesn’t smile. it’s one of your favorite things about him.

you can’t help but take the bait.

“you think i could be?” you ask, tone scandalized and brows raised. neither of you move to face each other just yet– you don’t need to. you can tell exactly what face mark’s making from the sound of his voice, and mark can do the same for you. it’s how he knows that you’ve stopped biting back that smug smile of yours– the one that creeps across your face when you’re clearly up to something, but he doesn’t know what. you’re a troublemaker; it’s one of his favorite things about you.

“yeah,” he replies without missing a beat, “i clearly know nothing about you. i was once dumb enough to think you were intimidating.”

“i’m still intimidating!”

“yeah, maybe on occasion,” mark teases, his typing ceasing completely so that he can spin around in his chair. he leans against it with his head tossed back and his arms on the armrests, eying you gleefully as you put the comic face down on the bed. “most of the time i forget because you’re too busy saying shit that’s uncomfortably close to ‘i wanna fuck seance dog.’”

“eat shit and die, mark.”

“i don’t wanna.”

“then shut the fuck up and answer the question!”

“fine, fine!” mark laughs and lifts his hands up lazily off the chair in mock-surrender. “‘course i’ve wanted to fuck a cartoon character. who hasn’t? i’m not a nun.”

something flashes in your eyes, and you shift to lean forward towards where mark’s sitting, propping up on your elbows on the bed. you grin mischievously; it’s clear you’re up to nothing remotely good. 

“who?” you ask.

mark replies immediately. “koriand’r.”

“wha– from the titans?”

“no, from the avengers. yes, from the titans. who else would i be talking about?”

“alright, down, boy,” you say amusedly, making mark roll his eyes. “i was just checking. but you obviously can’t handle that.”

mark raises an eyebrow. “says who?”

“uhh, says me?"

the two of you are still for a moment, and you start to fear you said something wrong until you see mark’s eyes darken in that telltale way they do when he starts to feel challenged. then, as if that wasn’t enough to give you goosebumps, he does that stupid, mindless thing he does with his tongue, where he runs it along the inside of his cheek. your breath stills in your chest when mark pushes up off the back of his chair and leans forward towards where you lie on the bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped between his thighs. 

it’s hard to keep your gaze from dropping to the veins in his hands.

“oh yeah?” mark asks incredulously, tilting his head. you were joking about being the intimidating one earlier, but the real intimidator is mark. when he gets serious, you swear you can feel something in the air shift. maybe that’s why it feels like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up right now.

“why not?”

the question, in its simple nature, catches you off guard, and in a brief moment of confusion, you tilt your head. “why not what?” “why couldn’t i handle her?”

you stare at mark as if he’s joking, but instead of him laughing and waving you off, mark stares back at you expectantly, brow arched and lips quirked up at the corners. it’s like he wants to smile, but he can’t. won’t. 

this dickhead must have a death wish.

“what do you mean ‘why couldn’t you handle her?’” you say casually– like what you’re saying is most obvious thing in the world. “it’s koriand’r, mark. she’d chew you up and spit you out before you even had time to undo your belt.”

you swipe up your copy of seance dog and busy yourself with trying to find where on the page you last left off. honestly, it doesn’t matter where you start reading. you’re willing to do anything to help get your mind off the weight of mark’s eyes boring into you.

“besides,” you huff, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “koriand’r has standards, and you probably have a small dick, anyway.”

the second those words leave your mouth, the room falls deathly silent, and you swear it’s as if the air has been sucked out of the room. you fall still where you’re at, hoping that somehow, someway, you not moving will make mark want to kill you less. you really don’t know what possessed you to say that– it was a poor attempt at deflection, considering the growing amount of tension you began feeling in that room– but you don’t mean it. didn’t mean it. not one bit. 

you’re doing mental gymnastics to figure out how you can take it back without sounding like a total loser before mark starts laughing, and the joyous and boisterous sound gives you pause.

he couldn’t have found that funny… could he? 

okay, yeah, after a little bit of consideration, he very well could have. this is mark grayson, you’re talking about– not one of the insecure guys you were used to dealing with, who were more likely to blow a blood vessel than a load at the idea of being perceived as “unmanly.” mark’s the type of guy to wear one of your crop tops because he knows you’ll whine about him stretching them out, or wear a maid dress as a punishment for losing a bet, masking his embarrassment with quips about how good his legs look. you also know mark enough to know he’s not a virgin, nor is he a prude, but not well enough to know intimate details about his sex life. sure, jokes are fine, but a play-by-play on how he screwed his ex feels… invasive. beyond the scope of your shared comfort. it was just something you never thought of asking.

well, more like something you could never bring yourself to ask.

you set the comic back down on the bed just in time to watch mark wipe some tears from his eyes, twisting around to face his laptop with a smile on his face. he resumes typing like nothing happened, like you didn’t just obliterate his manhood and leave it in pieces for him to pick up off the floor. it’s hard not to gawk at him in disbelief, blinking rapidly for a few moments before speaking.

“that– didn’t upset you?” you say tentatively, voice a lot meeker than initially intended. mark huffs out a laugh and spins around, hands back to resting on the armrests.

“why would it have?” he says bemusedly, still smiling from before. “we joke like that all the time. honestly, i’m surprised you hadn’t said something like that sooner.”

you can only stare at him blankly, brows knitting in confusion as mark continues to regard you patiently. then, you sit up, pushing up off your elbows to swing around and upright, one leg dangling off the bed while the other stays bent in front of you. 

“why didn’t you get mad?”

mark pauses, eyes narrowing as he tilts his head. “...is this a trick question? why would i? you were joking around.”

“most guys would’ve gotten mad about me saying something like that.”

“yeah, well, most guys aren’t exactly confident about what they’re packing downstairs.”

“and you are?”

mark’s lips part for a second, but no words come out. he quickly shuts his mouth and stares at you, but you stare back, ignoring the way your cheeks start to burn with red-hot embarrassment. 

“well, yeah,” mark finally says, eyes flickering nervously to the side. he looks everywhere– the alarm clock on the dresser, his posters on the wall, everywhere but where you are, sitting prettily on his bed– but his eyes have no choice but to finally lock back onto yours, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. “‘course i’m confident about it.”

“...‘cause it’s not small.”

he pauses. “yeah. ‘cause it’s not small.”

your brain short-circuits right then and there.

you aren’t sure why you’re so surprised by this. it wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to arrive to this conclusion. you were around when mark started dating his ex-girlfriend, amber– around long enough to have seen the exact point in their relationship where they shed the last of their inhibitions and began interacting with each other much more comfortably. you were also around long enough to watch mark come into himself– to lose that dweebish, unsure aura around him and become more confident. muscled. tall. even if he was still pretty dorky most of the time.

perhaps that’s when the thoughts started: when you started to think of mark less as a boy, and more as a man. when you began wondering things about him that you desperately wanted to know, but were much too scared to ask.

at least you have an answer to one of them now.

“hey,” mark says suddenly, voice sharp enough to cut through all your overthinking and analyses. mark’s closer to you now– right next to you, actually, the scent of his cologne filling your nose– and he has your hand in his, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back. “you okay? should i not have said that–?”

you frantically shake your head. “no–! i mean, yes– god, fuck, no, mark, it’s okay.” you take a deep breath, letting your eyes fall shut. “i’m the one who asked. you just answered.”

you take in a shaky breath and let your eyes flutter open to find mark watching you adeptly, his eyes trained on your face. the expression he’s wearing is one of worry, those dark brows of his pinched in the middle to form a wrinkle you so desperately want to smooth out with your thumb. his plush, pink lips are parted, and in an attempt not to stare at them, your eyes fall to the floor, but not before momentarily catching on how his biceps strain against his sleeves.

for fuck’s sake, this is not the time to be focusing on how attractive you find your best friend.

“i wanted to know,” you finally say, voice soft and a little frayed around the edges. your eyes flutter shut again– something to give you a bit of extra courage to say what you need to say, and not cave under the pressure of your nerves. “i wanted the answer to that question. it sounds weird as fuck, and i totally understand if you want me to leave and never show my face around here again, but i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want to know.”

you open your eyes again to find mark still staring at you, eyes jumping all over your face, while sporting an unreadable expression. you find yourself swallowing hard as you steel yourself for what you want to say next, adjusting to sit and face mark completely. “i wanna know a lot of things about you, actually. and none of them are all that appropriate for two people who are supposed to be ‘best friends.’”

it’s mark’s turn to short-circuit.

“w–what?” mark stutters out, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression as his eyebrows shoot up in suprise. his mouth falls agape, opening and closing fruitlessly as he tries to figure out what to say. “i– jesus christ, i don’t think you understand what you’re saying–”

“i know exactly what i’m saying.” your interjection is quick and firm, your expression void of your previous nervousness and now completely serious. “and you know it. don’t insult me like that again.”

mark’s protests die in his throat.

“i want to know you,” you start. “honestly. intimately. fuck, to be honest, i want to see you– naked, in my bed– but i didn’t wanna make things weird, and then you had that whole thing with amber, and then i thought you were gonna date eve, so i kinda just kept it to myself, but–”

“you can know me.” 

you freeze. “what–?”

“you can know me,” mark says again, his hand squeezing the one that he has wrapped in his. “you can know me. and see me. and i’ll answer every other question you’ve had about me, ‘cause i wanna know you too.”

you can’t help but stare at mark , absolutely and completely dumbfounded. if he notices, he doesn’t judge. doesn’t acknowledge it at all, actually. he just continues to steamroll ahead.

“god, fuck, i really wanna know you like that, too,” he sighs. “always have– like, all the way back in high school. i’d see you in the halls with your friends and think, ‘man, they’re hot,’ then move on with my life because i thought there was no way i’d ever have a chance with you. then, we got partnered up for that project, and i learned that you were so much cooler and more approachable than i had ever imagined, and i wanted to make a move on you so bad, but i still thought there was no way you could ever like me. william can testify to this– i was talking his ear off about you 24/7. still do. he is seriously getting sick of it.” 

the way mark talks is fast– so much so that all his words bleed together, voice full of excitement and sincerity. it make your eyes sting. after he finishes, his quick way of talking tapers off into a hefty bout of silence, his beautiful brown eyes flickering down to your joint hands. 

“and then came amber.”

the quiet that follows drapes over the two of you like a blanket, heavy with the weight of everything you two are thinking, but ultimately remains unsaid. the fact of the matter is that it doesn’t need to be said. you and mark just… know– understand– that amber was the first person, aside from you, to treat mark as less of an expendable, and more like somebody worth knowing. she took the opportunities you were too afraid to– penciled her name in where yours was meant to be and slipped right on into that “partner” position, wearing it as if it was custom-fitted. it may as well have been, because it sure looked good on her. 

he looked good on her. that’s why you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad.

“i never would’ve gone out with her if i knew you wanted me even half as much as i wanted you,” mark says quietly, reaching up to rub a tear from your cheek that you didn’t even know you shed. “but i didn’t. and we dated, and i slept with her, and i loved her, but i feel all of that for you too, y’know.” he cradles your face delicately as he climbs up onto his knees, his movements slow, as if moving too quickly would scare you off. moving too quickly would remind you that this is real; remind you that you probably shouldn’t be doing this, causing you to hop off the bed and run down the hall, flying down the stairs, past debbie, and out the front door.

but you don’t have to worry. never have, actually, because the way mark treats you is careful. cautious. he’s kneeling on the bed and easing you onto your back with such rapt attention that it makes your cheeks warm, head turning to the side to shield it from him before he turns your head right back to where it was.

“i want you to ask your questions,” mark says slowly, large hands pushing your knees apart to make room for him between your legs. you can’t help but stare at him helplessly, any and all words dying in your throat, but mark moves with a confidence that makes it clear you don’t need to speak. not when he’s hovering over you like this. 

“i want to answer your questions, and i want you to do the same for mine. ‘cause i’ve thought about you. a lot. and not all of it was decent. actually, most of it probably wasn’t.”

mark lets himself laugh softly at the admission, but you can only look up at him in awe, the muscles of your brows twitching from the urge to knit in confusion. mark’s eyes catch this, and he reaches down to smooth his thumb over the spot right between your eyebrows– the same way you wanted to do for him earlier.

“so tell me that this is okay.”

mark trails his fingers across your skin, skimming over your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder, and all the way down your arm until reaching your hand. he tangles your fingers together and brings your wrist to his lips, a soft kiss being pressed to your pulse, which makes your heart stutter in your chest. mark doesn’t tease you for how vulnerably you stare at him, or for how red his actions make your face. he only looks down at you with a soft smile, peppering kisses to your palm.

“holy shit, mark, this is more than okay.”

mark’s grin is blinding when you surge forward to kiss him.

the thing that surprises you most about it isn’t how good of a kisser mark is, or how nice it feels for his big hands to come up and cradle your jaw. it’s how easy all of this is– how uncomplicated it is to be making out with mark, how your lips slot together as if it’s always meant to be this way, how raw his groan is when you tangle your fingers into his hair and tug. he has you pressed against the bed in seconds, one hand slowly slipping beneath your t-shirt as the other squeezes at your outer thigh. you feel dizzy when your lips part and he ducks his head down into your neck, sucking bruises into the skin with a fervor that makes you squirm.

“i– fuck, mark, not where people can see–!”

“does it matter if it’s visible? ‘s not like you’re fucking anyone else right now besides me.”

you hit mark hard against his back, but it only makes him chuckle, sitting up to look at you with messy hair and blown pupils. “what? you haven’t slept with anybody in a while, and you’re about to sleep with me. i didn’t say anything wrong.”

“how do you even know that, asshole?”

mark grins, sitting back on his haunches as he hooks the hem of your shirt on his index finger. he tugs it up enough to reveal your stomach. “‘cause you’re lying here in my bed, wearing my shirt, with me sitting between your legs. if i was the person you’ve been fucking, i’d definitely feel some type of way about that.”

you scoff, moving one of your legs to try and kick at mark’s chest. like the little shit he is, he catches it easily and presses a kiss to your ankle, setting it on one of his shoulders. “that doesn’t mean anything. i could have casual sex if i wanted to.”

“yeah,” mark agrees, both hands coming to smooth his shirt up the expanse of your body, “you could. if you wanted to. but you don’t, ‘cause you’re not like that.”

“bullshit.”

“is not. here, open your mouth for me.”

“wh–?”

“shut up and open it for a second, would you?”

you shoot mark a withering glare, but he just grins back, pushing your shirt up under your chin and offering the hem for you to bite down on.

“thank you,” he says gleefully, his words a little too airy and sing-songy for you to let slide. you try and kick him again, but he blocks your leg without much of a second thought, eyes laser focused on the sight of your tits in front of him.

“wow, you are so fucking pretty.”

the way he says it is so full of awe– so genuine– that it makes your mouth fall open. the t-shirt in your mouth gets stuck on your bottom lip in the process, and the sight makes mark chuckle, a boyish grin settling on his face. he reaches up to adjust it and pulls it back up so you can bite down on it again.

“i didn’t even say anything crazy yet,” he teases, laughing as you do your best to swear at him from around the fabric. mark ignores it to focus on the sight in front of him instead, though, fingers tracing up your rib cage before cupping the underside of each of your breasts.

your mind goes blank when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“oh, fuck,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed and into his mouth. the t-shirt slips from between your teeth again, and you can feel mark grin around where his tongue swirls around your skin, popping off to look at you and chastise you softly.

“jeez, you really suck at following instructions,” mark playfully says. “and did you forget that my mom is downstairs? i’ve had her knock on the door during sex before, and trust me, it does not help to sustain the mood.”

“god, you sound like such a dork. ‘it does not help to sustain–’”

mark cuts you off with a groan, fingers curling into the waistband of your shorts and panties. “shut up and lift your hips already.”

you giggle. “fine, fine.”

you plant your feet and lift your hips off the bed enough for mark to tug your clothes off, separating your shorts from your underwear so he can tuck the garment into his pocket. You look at him with a flustered expression, mouth dropping open in bewilderment, but mark simply sticks his tongue out at you and flings your shorts to the floor, panties nowhere in sight. you hardly have enough time to process him keeping them for himself before he’s wrapping his hands around your thighs and tugging them onto his shoulders, putting him face to face with your cunt and lifting your lower back completely off the bed.

you knew mark was strong, but you never thought of him using his strength like this.

mark holds you firmly as he busies himself with eating you out like a man starved. those big, brown doe eyes of his look down at you, sometimes lingering on the rise and fall of your chest, and sometimes taking in the sight of your knitted brows and parted lips, both your hands tangled in the pillow behind your head. his eyes do fall shut every once in a while as if he’s savoring the taste of you on his tongue, and he probably is, knowing mark, but you don’t have the wherewithal to tease him. not now, at least. not when he’s got his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking in these sporadic little bursts that make your stomach burn with molten need.

“oh, f-uck,” you gasp, voice cracking on the expletive. in your defense, it’s the only word you currently feel like you know how to say, but mark doesn’t laugh or tease you for it. he just presses a messy kiss to your clit, then slides his tongue down through your folds to circle your hole, slowly and messily pressing inside of you. he pumps it in and out for a few moments, as if he’s trying to fuck you with his tongue, then flattens the muscle and drags it back up to your clit to press into it firmly. you untangle your fingers from the sheets and reach up to swat at mark’s thigh, twisting and turning frantically in his hold.

“oh my fucking god, mark, let go!” your whines are urgent, thighs beginning to quiver on either side of mark’s head. his eyes flutter open enough to look at you through his long, thick lashes, but his firm grip on your waist doesn’t let up in the slightest. his arms tighten around you, keeping your pussy to his lips and your body off the bed as he continues to ravage you like it’s the one thing he was born to do. “mark! ‘m fuckin’ serious– i’m gonna squirt if you don’t let go of m– oh, fuck!”

you realize your warning is a bit late as you feel that knot tighten and snap in your belly, but it would’ve fallen on deaf ears regardless of whether you said it earlier or not. your cunt gushes all over mark’s nose, lips, and chin, soaking the top of his t-shirt and dribbling a bit down onto the bed below. you’d think he’d have a concern of drowning, but mark’s tongue keeps moving as you cum, legs squeezing against his ears so tight that you’re sure he can hear absolutely nothing but his own heartbeat. you know you sure can’t– all you can hear is the distant sound of your own voice, and the way your breathing stutters in your chest, a series of tremors wracking your body so brutally that you’d liken them to an earthquake. 

“shit,” you gasp softly, limbs tingling once they regain sensation. you wriggle in mark’s grasp and he pulls back from your pussy with a pop!, lowering your hips down to the bed as he runs his tongue along his lower lip.

“you said you were about to squirt as if that was going to deter me,” mark says breathlessly, a soft laugh punctuating his sentence. his face is covered with your slick all over his lips and chin, the sun from the window catching on it in a way that makes it glisten. you’re embarrassed by his nonchalance, but it’s hard to be mad when mark looks this good. you did this to him– made his perfectly slicked-back hair disheveled, and soaked his lower face and chest in your cum. normally, you would reply to his quip right away, but right now, you don’t. you’re much too focused on watching how mark leans down to reach behind his head and grab at his shirt, shucking it off in one smooth motion to join your discarded shorts on the floor.

“it was supposed to,” you finally say, voice sounding just as breathless as mark’s. his lips quirk up at the corners, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. instead, he leans over you to open his bedside drawer, and you take that as an opportunity to continue. “didn’t realize i was sleeping with superfreak, over here.”

mark snorts. “i’m just a guy who prioritizes my partner’s pleasure over mine.”

“that’s a roundabout way to say you like to eat pussy. and ass. oh god, mark, you don’t eat ass, do you?”

mark wiggles his eyebrows in response, and you look at him with such a horrified expression that a giggle can’t help but escape from his chest. he shuts the bedside table with a soft thud and leans back over you with a strip of two condoms hanging from his mouth. your brows shoot up at the sight, but mark doesn’t see it. he’s much too focused on pushing his sweatpants and boxers down to his thighs, cock slapping lightly against his abs.

oh. you always knew mark looked good, but this? this is something else entirely.

“you’re staring,” mark says wryly, tearing one of the condoms from the strip, then opening up the wrapper with his teeth. you watch as he pinches the tip and rolls the condom onto himself with a level of precision that screams of practice. if you hadn’t just cum your brains out, you might’ve found yourself feeling a little bit jealous.

“‘course i am.” your reply is shameless, and it makes mark bark out a startled laugh. “you said it was big, not that you were carrying a weapon. now here you are, looking like asian adonis with my jizz on your face, rolling a condom on with the ease of a common whore. not to mention that you grabbed two of them.”

a giddy smile spreads across mark’s face in reply, but it’s not one of his usual ones: it’s bashful. it’s the kind of smile where he bites his lip to force it down, but it doesn’t work, so his bottom lip slowly unfurls from between his teeth. your ears burn bright red at the sight, but mark doesn’t comment on it. mark’s never been good at multitasking, and he’s much too focused on tossing the unopened condom to the side, then tugging you against him by your thighs.

“we don’t have to use them both,” mark says softly, the sweetness of his smile bleeding into his voice. it’s a bit jarring for him to be acting so adorably, like he’s not running his cock along the seam of your folds. the tip catches on your clit every so often, making your breath catch in the back of your throat.

“i like how that’s what you chose to comment on.” 

he shrugs. “didn’t have much else to say.”

“you’re a dog, you know that, mark?”

mark grins at you wickedly, leaning down to lick a stripe up your cheek.

“mm, yeah. ‘m guilty as charged.”

and just like that, he sinks into you, bottoming out in one smooth thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. your eyes screw shut, but you latch onto him immediately, hand shooting out in search of his. he takes it wordlessly, bringing your hand up so he can kiss your knuckles.

“you okay?” he asks tenderly, lips pressed to the back of your hand. you open your eyes, tears pricking at the corners, then nod slowly as a deep breath leaves your nose.

“yeah,” you say shakily. “just been a while. warn me next time.”

mark nods, doing his best not to get caught up on the fact that you want there to be a next time. “sure,” he answers. “sorry. here– put your legs on my shoulder.”

you lift your legs for mark to take, and he settles both of your feet on one of his shoulders like they belong there. then, he shifts forward, shuffling up so that his thighs bracket your hips, which slots him deeper into you than he has any business being.

it makes you feel crazy. you fucking love it.

once mark feels stable in his position, and any remnants of discomfort bleed from your expression, he starts rocking his hips in and out of you at a pace too quick to be languid, but too slow to be considered harsh. whatever rhythm he’s fallen into, it feels good. you’re clawing at the sheets at your sides and behind your head like a madman, that copy of seance dog he lent you long forgotten on the floor, along with everything else you two have taken off. 

“does this answer one of your questions?” mark asks lowly, eyes half-lidded and jaw tight. he’s got your legs pressed to his chest with one hand, the other splayed across your stomach to hold you in place. you can tell it’s not that simple, though; the firmness with which he presses down against your stomach is as if he’s feeling for something, and the realization makes you clench, cunt squelching lewdly around his cock inside you. “did you wonder how i fuck? if i liked it fast? or did it slow?”

in your day-to-day conversations, mark doesn’t swear all that often– at least, not compared to you– but the mouth he’s got on him in bed is a surprise that makes you flush down to your chest. you look up to see mark gazing at you with eyes that are almost black, a bright blush fanning across his freckled cheeks and nose. when he sees you struggle to answer, the gears clearly turning, but no words coming out, he grips your legs tighter and quickens the snap of his hips. mark’s lips fall open with a breathy moan as he watches the way your eyes roll back, and his abdomen clenches with the need to keep his own pleasure at bay. “c’mon, baby. tell me. tell me how you want it, ‘n’ i promise i’ll do whatever you say.”

“i– god, fuck, mark, yes, i wondered how you fucked!” your reply comes out breathy, whiny, and and rushed– a result of you making an actual effort to focus so it didn’t come out as a jumbled, inaudible mess. “i w-wondered if you’d treat me like glass, or fuck me like i had no self-respect. i don’t care what you do right now– swear t’god i don’t– ‘cause i just wanna cum. don’t fucking stop.”

mark huffs out a laugh at how desperate you sound, lips quirking up in a lopsided smile that shows off the cute little fangs he has in the corners of his mouth. he turns his head to kiss one of your ankles, then takes one to put it on the opposite side, making it so you have one leg on each of his shoulders. large, calloused hands slide down your legs and smooth over your thighs before taking your hands into each of his. you’re about to ask what he’s doing, but there’s no time for the words to come out. he’s already gripping both your wrists and tugging you forward, forcing your ass to smack against his thighs with every brutal snap of his hips.

your brain is about to melt out of your fucking ears.

“did you touch yourself?” mark’s asks breathlessly, dark eyes focused on your face. you try desperately to free your hands from his grasp, but your attempts are pathetically uncoordinated. the way his cock is rearranging your guts makes it impossibly difficult to focus. but despite your lack of success, your writhing makes mark tut at you disapprovingly, and he leans forward to keep you in place by resting a fraction of his body weight on your chest. “quit trying to run ‘n’ tell me. did you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you? imagining how it would be?”

mark leans down to lick a stripe up the side of your neck, voice dropping to a filthy, sultry whisper. “‘cause i did. thought about this all the time, what you’d feel like around me. it’s so much fuckin’ better than i imagined.”

you nod your head frantically, hands clenched into fists, and your nails dig so roughly into your palms that it’s a miracle it hasn’t drawn blood. mark isn’t completely satisfied with your response, but he takes it for what it is and releases both of your wrists in favor of grabbing onto your hips.

“if you touched yourself while thinking of me, then show me. play with it for me, hm?”

you don’t need much more coaxing than that.

your fingers fly to your clit at lightening speed, middle and ring finger rubbing in quick, tight circles that mark finds absolutely hypnotizing. your other hand comes up to palm at your breasts, pinching and tweaking at your nipples in a way that makes you whine. mark damn near growls at the sight, a string of expletives you’ve never heard from him before being let out into the ether as he doubles his efforts to fuck you into the mattress.

“open your eyes,” mark demands, his words oozing with a tone you’re very much not used to being addressed with. his voice is low, gravely, and deeply affected by the way your walls squeeze around him, and you find that you quite like having him like this: wrapped around your finger, barely hanging on, lost in everything pertaining to you. the sentiment is definitely shared, because as you force your eyes open, you feel your features pinch the way they do when you’re trying not to cry. it’s nothing bad– far from it, actually. it’s just that mark is fucking you so good that you feel like you’re losing your mind, and the pleasure is so mindboggling that it makes you wanna sob. 

“there y’go, baby,” mark sighs, “just keep lookin’ at me. i wanna see your face when you cum.”

his honest admission shoots straight through you and right to your core, pussy clenching around him tightly, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. mark moans low and long at the feeling, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows hard.

“fuck, i like when y’do that– when you like what i say and you get all tight around me. just– keep touching yourself, pretty. look at me and let it happen.”

all you can do is nod helplessly. mark ducks down to press a kiss to your cheek, fingers pressing what will definitely be bruises tomorrow morning into the skin of your hips. his cock splits you open in a mindbending way, your fingers flicking at your clit so frantically that your hand has become nothing but a blur. 

then, the bubble bursts. your orgasm hits you like a truck, your head flying back, and the muscles in your jaw and neck pulling taut. the same goes for your legs– your knees lock up and your thighs pull tight, shaking with violent tremors as you gush again, this time, around mark’s cock. you do your best to keep your eyes open as you cum, but it’s hard. from what you can see, though, mark’s mouth drops open and his eyes flash with something bright– yellow, even– as he takes in the sight of you falling apart. whatever it is, you don’t give it much thought. your brain is much too fried to be trusting everything you see right now.

“you’re a fucking dream like this,” mark mutters, his tone oozing with awe and disbelief. dutifully, he fucks you through your second orgasm– all the squirming, pulsing, and wetness that’s stained his sheets twice in one night– and holds your unfocused gaze all throughout it before he feels you coming down and abruptly pulls out. your twitching legs drop unceremoniously to the bed, and mark swings his thighs over you to settle over your chest, fingers peeling off the condom and tossing it lamely to the side. all you can see past your wet lashes and teary eyes is mark’s fist moving in an urgent blur before he cums all over your chest, the orgasm hitting him so hard that he has to grip the headboard to stabilize himself. his super strength causes it to splinter just slightly as his legs shake, so much so that he can hardly hold himself up.

his cum paints your tits in hot, thick, pearly white strands, and mark clambers up from over you to lay down on the other side of the bed. you find it unfair, the way that he’s panting and shaking much less than you, but you don’t comment. you just stare up at the ceiling, the sound of your breathing filling the air.

“i hope that was good,” mark says earnestly, rolling lazily onto his side to look at you. you take another deep, grounding breath, then turn your head to look at him. your arm comes out too weakly to swat at his chest.

“there’s no way you just asked me that when your cum is drying on my chest.”

mark stares at you for a moment, then busts out into a fit of laughter, reaching behind his head to take the pillow so he can drop it casually onto your face. you can’t help but laugh too, arms coming up to shield yourself from the pillow, and you toss it back to mark where he catches it, then tucks it back under his head. “fuck me for trying to make sure you’re okay, i guess,” he says dramatically, rolling his eyes.

you flip over onto your stomach and bunch the pillow up under your chin, careful to ignore the wet parts of your chest as you widely grin and quip back. “i just did.”

“more like the other way around. this was me fucking you. into the mattress, might i add.” mark grins mischievously and reaches out to place his hand on your lower back, smoothing over your ass before dipping between your legs to find your folds. he trails his fingers up and down your wet and puffy slit, tongue darting out to wet his lips when he feels you shiver in reply. “but we can go again with you on top if you wanna fuck me. not like i’d ever say no to that. plus, it’d answer one of my questions.”

you’re part your lips to reply, but the sound of feet padding up the stairs, partnered with a soft call of mark’s name, makes you both freeze exactly where you’re at. you look at each other in panic, then scramble to get rid of the proof of what you two just did. mark leaps off the bed and onto his feet with impressive athleticism, tossing you your discarded copy of seance dog that you catch effortlessly with one hand. you tug your t-shirt down over your chest, ignoring the fact that there’s still cum on it you’ve hardly wiped off, and he busies himself with pulling his pants back up and slipping his t-shirt on. the fact that it’s still damp around the collar doesn’t matter– not when there’s much more incriminating evidence like his used condom on the bed, alongside the wrapper and the new one he was about to use on you again ten seconds ago.

you barely manage to get under the covers to hide your lower half by the time debbie opens the door, your shorts haphazardly kicked under the bed, and your panties in mark’s pocket. you double-check to make sure your comic isn’t upside down and open it to a random page, holding it as inconspicuously as possible, right in front of your face. mark’s hands are stuffed into his pants, the condoms and the wrapper fisted tightly in his hands.

“hey, you two,” debbie says sweetly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. you swear, even if you two didn’t look suspicious as hell, debbie would still be looking at you two like she knows you did something wrong. “just came to let you know that dinner is ready. and that you two shouldn’t stay up too late tonight. i’m driving you two back to campus early, so i can get to work on time.”

mark smiles tightly. “okay, mom, thanks,” he says, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave at her goodbye. debbie eyes him amusedly, taking in both of your disheveled appearances one more time before nodding and moving to close the door.

“oh, and mark? it’s been a long time coming, so i don’t mind if you two are having sex, as long as it’s safe and i don’t have to worry about becoming a grandma.”

the color drains from both of your faces, but debbie only laughs, a smile as sweet as her son’s spreading across her face. “but next time, if you’re gonna try and hide it, make sure the panties are tucked all the way into your pocket. i’m not judging what you’re into, but it’s kind of a dead giveaway when blue lace is halfway hanging out of your sweatpants.”

# — navigation

[kookiestarlight]

Lines of fate: 01 | jjk

➵ pairing: tattooist!jungkook x f. reader

➵ genre: apocalypse au, exes to lovers (?) dad!jungkook, survival, angst, smut

➵ summary: the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.

➵ word count: 11.9k

➵ warnings: swearing (jk says fuck way too much), graphic depictions of violence and death, blood and gore, seizures, virus and zombies ofc, brief mentions of alcohol consumption.

➵ series masterlist

➵ a/n: it’s finally here!! <3 sorry this was postponed way longer than expected, all I can say is: life :,) anyway!! posting my writing again after years on hiatus definitely feels nerve wracking lol. this idea has been in my wips for literally years so I’m so excited to finally be sharing it with you all!! I would greatly appreciate your feedback and thoughts as it is something quite different from anything I usually write (it’s definitely been a kick in the ass) it’ll also really help me stay motivated to continue writing it. thank you for all the hype and excitement you showed for this fic before it was even released cause like hello?? that’s crazy to me😭 thanks for always showing my stories love and support🫶🏻 I’ve taken inspiration from all the zombie movies and videogames I’ve ever seen and played over the years (thanks dad). I should also mention, I had a very thorough plot for this planned out and it kinda went to shit in the process of writing so we’re kind of going off vibes only and 20% of the plot I had originally planned so yeah, bare with me🤪 I also want to say, updates on this will most likely be slow, but I will try my best to get them out as fast I can for you🙏 now that that’s over, I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am enjoying writing it!! this chapter is just the very beginning <33

The autumn sun filters through the large window with an amber glow as you take a slow sip of your coffee, the warm bitterness spreading in your chest as you attempt to chase some kind of comfort. But the loud hum of the city just outside and the muffled chatter of the bustling cafe are very much a grounding reminder of where you are — and where you really wish you weren't.

Your gaze travels down to your daughter sitting on the booth beside you, her little legs swinging off the seat contentedly as she picks away at her blueberry muffin. Completely oblivious to your ongoing little inner torment. Her big eyes flicker up to meet yours, brimming with glee. Brushing a crumb off her cheek, you force a little smile for her. 

Like a dull sting under your skin, you feel how little teeth of guilt gnaw away at you, not only because it’s been almost impossible to offer her a genuine smile in the past two days since you stepped foot in this dammed place, but because you simply wish you could share the same excitement as she does, and perhaps…feel more positive about this whole situation. For her.

But all you’ve been able to feel is guilt.

An incessant amount of it. Guilt and fear. Slowly brewing up inside you like some sort of poison that has had you feeling a little sick to your stomach.

”You’re spiraling again.” Hoseok pulls you out of your absentminded state, studying you over the rim of his half finished iced americano.

You blink. You often tend to forget how well he’s capable of reading you. Though you suppose that’s a skill acquired with nearly twenty years of friendship, and an unavoidable consequence of growing up constantly together, practically like siblings. 

Hoseok has been the only constant in your life for as long as you can remember, like a brother to you — conjoined at the hip as his mother always used to joke. It all began when you moved next door. With your parents always working late and often times far away from home, Hoseok's home slowly became your second one — the place you spent most of your childhood and adolescence and formed some of your fondest memories. A place where you were never alone.

You do suppose it’s no surprise the years and the unbreakable bond you’ve formed have given you exceptional abilities to know when something is off with just a simple glance. But it's never less surprising.

The corners of your mouth tug upwards into a tiny smile at his words, brows pinched in a pathetic attempt to hide your truth. “I am not.”

“You are. You’re thinking too much,” he stirs the ice in his drink with the straw, eyes flicking up to meet yours again. “Which if I may remind you, is one of your fatal flaws.”

You scoff, only slightly offended as you watch him take a slow sip. Pushing your sunglasses further up your head as you lean back. “Thinking too much is not my fatal flaw.” 

He’s may very likely be right about that, but of course, you’d never actually admit it.

Hoseok snorts, clearly unconvinced. His voice just above a whisper when he murmurs, “Right. Sorry. It’s definitely lying.”

Before you can argue, he leans forward to accept some crumbs of muffin Jieun is so eagerly offering him. The sight tugs at something deep in your chest, watching his expression soften to mush as he thanks her with that brightest, tender smile he only ever uses for her before he brings his attention back to you. 

“If it weren’t your fatal flaw, you’d actually be enjoying that overpriced coffee and oh—, maybe being reunited with your best friend again. I haven’t even seen you in like three months.” He shakes his head in utter disappointment, sitting back with a dramatic sigh.

“Hobi, I am so thrilled to be reunited with you, truly.” You roll your eyes ever so slightly and place a hand on your heart rather sarcastically as you say it, but deep down you hope he knows you’re only half joking. No one has done for you more than what hoseok has in the time you’ve known him.

You suppose all the change has got you in a rather sentimental state. But you bury it away. Hoseok deserves a nice time out with a friend for once too. He’s seen enough of your tears.

“Yeah?” he leans in, studying you with mock concern. Though not falling for it even a bit. "That's your thrilled face? You sure about that?” You almost laugh in response, but then, he shifts, looking more serious than just seconds ago. “You know,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “For someone who finally landed a nice new job and has everything working out, you don’t look all that thrilled to me, actually. That’s all.”

You press your lips together and glance down at your coffee, suddenly the truth a little too hard to face. You should be happy. He’s right. Because things really are starting to look up for you again. Everything you’ve spent the last few months wishing for has finally become a reality. And yet, you can’t shake the fact that there’s a deep buried sense of dread that seems to be getting in the way of that, a familiar fear that's been present for years, but only intensified since you stepped foot in Seoul again. 

Hoseok follows your gaze, watching you carefully, then nudges your foot under the table gently. “Come on.” He murmurs softly, eyebrows raised gently. “What is it?”

You suppose your real fatal flaw is your emotions showing up as flashy neon subtitles over your head apparently, or the fact you are simply terrible at hiding them, because Hoseok doesn't budge. He sees right through your little facade — always has. And as much as you know he is a great listener and that he genuinely cares to hear it all, always ready to give you a helping hand in any way he possibly can, you just don’t want to sound ungrateful. Not when anyone else in your position would be feeling over the moon right now.

Besides, you’ve never liked burdening him, or anyone for that matter. Never wanted to add more weight to the heavy things he already carries himself. He deals with so much of that at work already. So many problems significantly worse than your own worries. So you simply shake your head, putting on a small smile once again in hopes to appease him.

“I’m alright, Hobi. It's just…strange. Being back here. Overwhelming, I guess,” you admit, though only to half of the truth. “It’s so calm on the island. I suppose I got used to it. Everything here is just so intense. But that's all.” You cross your arms on the table as you gaze out at the busy streets. Hoping you don't sound as pathetic as you feel. Though in truth, this whole things isn't just strange. It’s all actually fucking terrifying.

In many ways it seemed like nothing here had changed since the day you left four years ago. The cityscape is as bustling as you remember – a stark contrast to the quietude and stillness of Jeju, where you had been building your new life up until now. People in suits rush back and forth and push into each other with no care, everything is always shadowed by a maze of buildings that don't seem to have an end. Cars weave through traffic like they want to crash into each other, and neon signs and billboards still flicker blindingly even in the daytime. 

The fact that everything remains the same, terrifies you. The rush, the stress, the chaos. That constant hustle and bustle that seems suffocating. It wasn't the reason why you left. but it was certainly a factor that made your life here something you wanted to escape from. It feels like stepping back into the life you thought you’d left behind for good. Like stepping onto a moving treadmill, when you no longer know how to run. Not sure if you’ll ever find your place here again.

Hobi hums in understanding, and the warmth in the familiarity of his smile helps lessen the knot that's been forming in your stomach all morning. And though you've only let out a tiny portion of what's on your mind, you already feel like you can breathe with more ease.

Sometimes, it’s not so bad that he can see right through you. Because you also tend to forget he’s the only one that truly gets you, understands you when even you struggle to understand yourself, and has never once been one to judge you, no matter how small or ridiculous it may be.

“Yeah, I get it. It can be overwhelming.” He nods slowly, letting the words settle. “But if I were you, I’d be damn proud of myself.” His expression is calm and his words full of sincerity as he speaks. “You did what you had to do, and now you’re doing it again. Making more big changes. Really tough decisions, and I know that’s not easy.” He pauses. “But you've always made it after all. This time won't be different. Besides, think about this, we’re close to each other now. I’ll be here for anything you guys need, you know that.”

Your heart softens at his comforting words, and the reassurance feels like it melts some of the tension off your shoulders. And for just a split second you feel that roar of confidence, thinking about everything you've accomplished, but it's not lasting, and deflates with the weight of your heavier thoughts.

You want to believe what he says — you really do. For your daughter's sake. Because this is finally your chance to start over and build something better. To give Jieun the life she deserves, something stable, a chance to thrive in a place full of new opportunities. 

A fresh start. 

After all, isn't that all you've ever been chasing?

You don’t want to allow your fears and the past to come in the way of that. But it's never so simple. At least, definitely not here — definitely not for you.

Because the truth is, being in Seoul again feels like roaming a haunted city. Tainted and plagued by shadows from the past, by who you used to be, and everything and everyone you left behind all those years ago when you ran and didn’t dare to look back. Being here now, you can’t shake the feeling — the apprehension and fear that everything you once left behind is lurking around the corner, ready to jump out and haunt you, making everything you've finally built up crumble to pieces once again. This place just gives you an indescribable feeling of…dread. Eeriness even. Enough for it to linger gut deep with a painful sense of discomfort that hasn’t eased since the day you arrived. As if you can never truly let your guard down.

But after all, it was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, even if it meant returning to the city you swore you’d never step foot in again. The offer came at just the right moment, a lifeline after months of uncertainty and dead-ends. After losing your job, and endless nights crying yourself to sleep with the heavy burden of becoming a failure of a mother and not knowing how to make ends meet. You practically cried with joy the morning you finally got the call, and ignored the pit that formed in your stomach when you heard where it required you to move to. It had felt like you were about to reach the peak of a mountain, only to drop all the way back down to the bottom. But it was a steady paycheck, and a chance to finally give Jieun some stability. It wasn’t glamorous or grand — a position in a small marketing firm. But it was enough to rebuild. The breakthrough you so badly needed to start over and secure a future for your little girl. 

How could you possibly turn it down?

That was your biggest and only goal in life.

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for her. So you knew in that very instant you had to take it. Even if it meant returning to the place that broke you beyond repair. So you packed up your life and now, here you are. Back where you never thought you’d be. So far from the tranquility of the home you had made for yourself in a secluded tiny seaside town four years ago. Where you were happy. Where you didn't live in constant fear.

“I know this is what I need right now,” you speak softly, more to yourself than anything. You reach out, gently brushing your fingers through Jieun's baby soft hair, watching as she focuses intently on her muffin, completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. “I just don’t want to mess anything up…the job, you know, our new life here. I want to get this right. I don’t want anything, getting in the way of that.” You swallow thickly, fingers tightening around the mug of coffee in front of you, and Hoseok knows exactly what you mean by that. You hesitate, letting out a quiet breath before speaking again. “I know there's so many opportunities for us here but…I was happy in Jeju. Jieun was happy.”

Hoseok nods, slow and understanding. “I know you were. A city like this takes some adapting to, you know that.” He reaches out and gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “but give it time. You’ll settle right back in.” He says warmly, reassuring. You return a tiny smile, more genuine this time.

“Seriously though. Change is good. New home, new job, meeting new people…maybe even someone special…” he adds.

You scoff, eyes widening, only half incredulous at how fast he swerved the topic there. So typical of him. 

“Yeah no, thanks. You can stop it right there.” You shake your head.

“What?” Hobi leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he waggles his eyebrows, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, completely unbothered despite your clear opposition. “I'm just saying,” he adds in, raising his hands in mock innocence, though he feels like your glare could actually kill him. “You’re young. You’re no longer in that tiny ass town full of old drunk married cheating men. Everyone deserves a little fun. It wouldn't kill you to-”

“Hobi,” you sigh, cringing internally at the memories of disastrous dates you told him all about over the phone. You throw a pointed look in his direction, but Hoseok just chuckles. “I’m done with all that. Seriously.”

“Come on,” he presses.

“No. No way. I told you.” You interject, tone firm, not even allowing space for the idea. “I’m a single mother, Hobi. That’s been off the cards for years. I have different priorities now.” You straighten in your seat, making a point to scoop Jieun's hair back and out of her drink. These are your priorities now.

Hoseok raises a brow, watching you carefully, but there's no judgment in his expression now — just silent understanding. He leans back in his chair again, smile dying down, tapping his fingers absently against his iced americano before his gaze drifts over to your little girl. His expression softens, fondness flowing in his eyes.

“I know,” he says after a moment, his tone a tad more gentle. “But I’m just saying…you’re allowed to let yourself be happy again, you know. You deserve that.”

Something uncomfortable twists in your insides. Happy. What a simple word, but what a complex thing. 

You lift your eyes to meet his, the sincerity in his gaze cutting right through. You could argue, explain that you don't agree, that romance is a door locked for good. Not only out of fear, but out of necessity. It’s no longer just about you. You don’t have the luxury of reckless choices or fleeting little flings like you did before.

There's simply to much buried history to let anyone new into your life.

And deep down, you don't believe you deserve it. But you don’t voice any of that. There's no need to explain. Hoseok knows your history better than anyone, the pain etched deep into you, the one you carry like a scar beneath your skin. He knows Jieun's father plays a big role in that, even though you don’t dare to mention him and haven’t in years. He knows his existence and every memory he’s involved in is something you merely refuse to acknowledge. And though Hoseok wants nothing more than for you to thrive, he knows better than to press on the matter. 

Still, he hesitates before speaking quietly. “I’ve been here four years, and I’ve never seen him again.”

He says it gently, in hopes the information is comforting to you, to maybe put you at ease, but instead it feels like a small jab between your ribs. You stiffen, for just a second. You feel your heart begin to race a tiny bit faster. And you wonder when the mention of him will stop having this goddamn effect on you.

Hoseok notices, and regret quickly flickers across his face. He realizes he might have overstepped, treading on thin ice that he fears may slowly be cracking beneath him.

But it doesn't. You take a deep breath, and you simply nod. It’s okay. You know you can’t avoid it forever. Besides, who’s to say he even still lives here? The thought should be reassuring, bring you some sort of peace, be relieving. But it isn’t. Because the thought of ever seeing him again makes your palms sweat, and your chest a little tight.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. “You’re right. Who knows.”

You don't mention how many late nights you've stayed up, haunted with thoughts like if ever did make it out of here. If he ever made it to the states and accomplished all those things he wanted. If he's perhaps settled down and started a family or if he's stuck right where he used to be, how he used to be. You don't mention that sometimes, you mind even attacks you with the intrusive thought of if he’s even still alive.

You don't dare mention any of it.

Hoseok exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I just-” He pauses, voice lowering as he checks Jieun to make sure she's not listening, not that she would know or understand, but you appreciate that he does. “I know we’re not meant to talk about him–“

You push past it, giving a small dismissive shake of the head. Instead, you plaster on a small practiced smile, turning to glance down at the little girl beside you as well. It isn't something easy to avoid. But for the past four years, somehow, you’ve managed it. 

“Anyway. I am happy,” you say, voice softer now, steering the conversation elsewhere. “I get all the love I need from my little lovebug right here, don’t I?”

The little lovebug in question remains completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. Instead, her wide eyes are fixated on something outside, her eyes big and small fingers suddenly clutching your sleeve.

“Mommy, look!” She gasps, tugging desperately for your attention, she calls you again, tearing you away from your conversation. “The birdy!”

You follow her gaze, a small black bird just on the other side of the glass, and the simplicity of her joy softens you, eases the heaviness for a second. It really doesn't take much to amuse a child, and you’re glad to see at least someone enjoying her time here so far. “I see, baby.”

You smile with her, that is until, just a moment later, you notice… the small bird is no longer pecking at crumbs on the pavement. It’s… acting rather strangely. Its head twitches sharply to the side, body jerking with twitchy erratic movements as it flaps it’s wings like crazy, then suddenly, it freezes, before twitchting again.

Your brows furrow, unable to take your eyes off it. What the hell? Something about it sends a strange chill through you, suddenly understanding what had Jieun so surprised.

“Oh, I think that poor bird might have gone a little coo coo.” Hoseok turns his head to take a look himself, and you both exchange a puzzled glance, to which Hobi just shrugs with a mildly disgusted expression.

“What, you know I hate birds.” he whispers, shrugging like someone just walked over his grave, and you swat his arm and shush him, suppressing a laugh. You wouldn't want your sweet animal loving daughter hearing that. 

“Isn't that so weird. I’ve never seen one do that before.” You say, and hoseok tilts his head, staring at it with a mildly grossed out frown. “Probably has some kind of parasite or something. Not sure.”

“It’s gonna die?” she looks up at hobi, her little face full of worry. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer.

“Not necessarily, bub. I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Hobi answers, trying to be tactful, however, Jieun doesn’t look convinced, but she nods sadly and resumes eating spoonfuls of her hot chocolate that's long gone cold. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine baby.” You kiss the top of her head, as you glance out the window once again, only to see it’s no longer there. 

“So odd.” You shake your head, taking another sip of your coffee, and Hoseok nods and lets out a low hum, taking another sip himself.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day? Are you actually gonna start unpacking, or are you going to let those suitcases rot in your living room for another week?” He taunts.

You chuckle. “I’ll unpack eventually. This little girl and I have a long list of errands left to do today.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you an unconvinced look, then looks at Jieun with a dramatic pout, cooing. “My poor little monkey. Prisoner to moms to do list. I remember that feeling.”

She giggles, and you speak up. “Shhh, she loves errands with mommy, don't you-”

Suddenly, a loud crash sound from the back of the café, startling you all.

The sharp clatter of metal rings out and you hear a young worker gasp, emerging hastily from behind the counter as the previous muffle of conversation begins to die down. Heads immediately start turning towards the scene unfolding before them. 

“What the hell?” you murmur as you hastily turn around yourself, pulse spiked from the jump.

Near the back of the cafe, a chair is knocked to the ground, a mans body hunched over on the floor, shaking and convulsing with an unnatural force that seems to take over him completely. The man sitting beside him instantly scrambles to the floor next to him, shaking his shoulders in a failed attempt to break him out of whatever is happening as he calls out for help in a trembling voice, panicked.

“Oh my god, Hobi-” You gasp and your stomach twists as you take in what is occurring, grip instinctively tightening around your daughter's hand, turning her away from the scene. One of the members of staff pulls out her phone, announcing that she will call an ambulance right away, the man on the floor now surrounded by two other workers that instantly made their way over to him.

Hoseok takes just a few seconds to register what’s going on. “Shit.” He mutters, “A seizure.”

Instantly, he’s up on his feet, leaving you and Jieun behind and rushes over to help, but before he can reach the man on the floor, a young worker steps in front of him, his hands raised. 

“An ambulance is on the way!” he blurts out, eyes darting between the unconscious man and the crowd gathering around him, Hoseok noticing his eyes full of panic. “Please, just give him space.”

“It's alright. I’m a nurse,” Hoseok urges, trying to step around him. “Please, let me-”

This time, there’s no resistance — only relief in the young man's panicked eyes as he steps aside, allowing Hoseok through to where the man is convulsing on the floor.

Jesus christ. On his one day off. He thinks internally.

Without hesitation, Hoseok drops to one knee. “Don’t hold him down,” he instructs the mans friend beside him as he proceeds to unbutton the first few buttons of the man's shirt to facilitate his breathing. He presses his fingers to his wrist as best as he can, taking a pulse. He attempts to roll him on his side, but he seizes with too much force, limbs jerking far too erratically for him to do so. 

“Has he ever had seizures before? Is he epileptic?” Hoseok asks without tearing his eyes away from the man.

The man's friend just shakes his head. “No…no- he was fine right before.”

“Ambulance is just two minutes away,” the barista yells, phone still pressed to her ear. Hoseok nods but keeps his focus on the young man. Face contorted in concertation as he's checking his pulse once again before tilting his head to ensure he’s breathing properly.

You sit speechless few tables away, watching the scene unfold, your heart erratic in your chest. But feeling so much relief Hoseok was here. Jieun's small hand holds yours tightly, grip strong. She shifts in her seat, trying to peek over the booth to the commotion, but you gently pull her in beside you. Pulling her close, you brush a soothing hand over her hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” your whisper. “That man wasn’t feeling very well. But uncle hobi is helping him. Isn’t that so good? He’s really good at helping people remember. It's okay.”

Jien nods slowly, though her brows are still drawn together in concern. She doesn’t fully understand, but she doesn’t doubt your word, or her uncle's abilities.

Across the large space, Hoseok presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes watching carefully as the man's convulsions finally begin to slow, the violent jerking finally seeming to ease up. But just as the worst seems to have passed…Hoseok stiffens. 

There’s a concerning, deep purplish hue creeping up the man’s neckline, peeking through the gap of his unbuttoned white shirt. Dark veins snaking against his pale skin, spreading like ink through thin cracks. Hoseok swallows hard, alarm bells ringing at the back of his mind. 

That…that doesn’t look right. His medical knowledge kicks in, a thousand possibilities racing through his mind, digging for the most fitting answer. Is it cyanosis? an undiagnosed vascular disease? Possibly an infected wound? blunt trauma?

His mind dashing for answers in an instant, but before he can take a better look and unbutton his shirt completely, after what feels like a lifetime, the piercing wail of sirens cuts right through his thoughts, and just moments after, paramedics burst into the café, pushing past the gathered crowd near the Hoseok and the patient on the floor. Hoseok quickly regains focus, stepping back to allow them to take over. 

“He had a seizure. Approximately a minute long. His breathing is stable but—“ He hesitates for a second, then presses on, giving them a brief diagnosis and rundown. “I think he may have another underlying condition. Possible hypoxia.”

The paramedic beside him nods, wasting no time as they swiftly load him onto a stretcher. He stands back, his jaw tight, fingertips tingling with the urge to do more, watching as they wheel him out through the entrance. The murmurs of the coffee shop begin to start up again, confused and concerned looks turning left and right, but Hoseok can’t shake all the questions in his mind. 

He just hopes the guy turns out to be okay. The same way it goes with every patient he sees. You have to do your part and let go. That's how it works. but this time, he's left with a weird feeling bubbling inside.

After a few minutes, Hoseok turns back to your table. The moment his eyes meet yours, you’re already standing and asking, “God, is everything okay? He’s okay, right?”

“It’s alright,” Hoseok reassures you, though his tone is softer than usual. “They've got it under control.”

His gaze flickers toward Jieun, who’s still clinging to you, her small face twisted in worry as she glances between the two of you. She tugs your sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. ��Mommy…what happened to the man?”

“The ambulance people will take care of him and take him to the hospital so they can help him.” You say gently. She blinks up at you, then glances toward Hoseok, as if waiting for confirmation.

Hoseok lips form a small smile, crouching slightly to be at her eye level. “Your mom is right,” he says carefully, patting her head. “Sometimes when people don’t feel well they need a little help. That’s what doctors and nurses are for Jieun. It’s okay.”

Jieun watches him for a moment, and gives him a slow understanding nod. He then straightens and exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back toward the road in front of the entrance where the ambulance is now setting off.

You nod, now feeling a weight of unease in the crowded space. It would probably be best to give them space to handle the situation, and to get some fresh air after that. So you retrieve Jieun's little pink puffer vest from off hobis chair and gently help her arms into, zipping it up snuggly to keep her warm from the afternoon chill, before taking her hand in yours.

As the three of you finally step outside, you're grateful for the crisp autumn air that lifts some of the heaviness off you. God, that was stressful. The distant sounds of the city hum around you, and life moves as if nothing happened.

“God, I hope that guy is okay.” You say quietly only for Hoseok to hear, taking your daughter's hand as you let out a slow breath. “First that weird bird and then that poor guy.”

Hoseok hums in agreement and gives a small reassuring nod, pushing his concerns aside. But you know how hard it is for him to switch off. How even when the emergency is over, his mind replays it again and again, analysing— wondering if he could have done more, if he could’ve done better. Even when he deals with stuff like this everyday, it’s never been easy.

“Jesus Christ. What's that saying, bad things always come in two’s? Three’s? ” He chuckles, letting out a huff. “I told you, there’s never an uneventful day out here.” Hobi shakes his head, forcing a smile to lift the mood. But his body still buzzes with tension. Then, in one swift movement, he scoops Jieun up, swinging her into his arms. “Now, time for ice cream?”

Jieun giggles loudly, kicking her feet excitedly at his words, all her earlier worries forgotten. “Yes!”

“Hobi, she just had a hot chocolate. Do you even have space for ice cream, Jieun?” You say, trying to sound stern, but the sight of them giggling together pulls a real smile out of you. And something inside already tells you you’re going to give in.

“She’s with uncle hobi now, there’s no rules.” He sing songs, walking ahead of you with your daughter in arms, all smiles as she squeals at his gentle tickling. The spitting image of joy if you ever saw it.

And for just a moment, you try to push away the nagging feeling that’s been pressing at the back of your mind. 

Because maybe, just maybe, this time, everything will be just fine after all.

Jungkook steadies his hand, a quiet hiss of pain getting lost in the low thrumming of the tattoo gun that fills the quiet studio, lulling him into that comforting sense of calm he knows so well. It’s a fairly big piece, he’s been here hunched over for hours now, that familiar dull ache creeping up his back, but he barely registers it. Because all that matters is the art taking form beneath his touch. 

Here, in these moments, it's when the feels most himself. Distracted, at peace, In control. Something he’s never found that easy outside of these four walls.

Every stroke, every line falls exactly where he intends it to. In a way, the rest of the world seems to fade away — no worries, just ink and skin, art coming to life. And it grants him a satisfaction nothing else can quite offer. And if there’s one thing Jungkook prides himself on, it’s his work and dedication. He built this place with steady hands and relentless effort, and he knows damn well he’s good at what he does. Confidence hasn't always been second nature to him, but time and experience have definitely sharpened him.

He leans back slightly to take in the work before him, his disheveled strands of dark hair falling over his eyes as he uses a paper towel to wipe up some excess ink from the client's forearm before glancing up. “How are we holding up?”

The young guy shifts in the chair, letting out a breathy chuckle. “Let’s just say I felt that last bit there.”

Jungkook nods, noting the slight sheen of sweat on the guy's forehead. He’s just glad he’s not a squirmer. That shit makes his job so much harder than it needs to be. 

His own body is the canvas of plenty tattoos. All colours, shapes and sizes. He's more than numb to the pain now. But he gets it.

“You’re doing really well. I won’t torture you much longer. We’re almost done with the worst part.” Pressing the pedal again, he feels the familiar vibration travel up his arm, he tongues with his lip piercing, a habit that signals his concentration. His hair is dusting over his eyes as he continues with the last bits of shading and does the final touch ups of all the smaller details. Another forty five minutes pass, broken by lighthearted conversation here and there. Though Jungkook never used to be one for making conversation before, he has long mastered the art of letting his mouth wander while his hands and precision remain steady and focused.

“Alright, and we’re done,” he wipes down the fresh ink one last time before setting the tattoo gun aside, letting out a silent exhale as he wheels back, peeling off his black gloves to grab the aftercare instruction sheet, ready to spew his usual little lecture he knows most people don’t even pay much attention to.

“Sit up slowly.” Jungkook instructs.

When the guy finally stands, he marvels at his tattoo in the mirror. Jungkook feels a flicker of pride swell in his chest. No matter how many times he does this, seeing the completed, polished work and his client's expressions of amazement never gets old. “Looks sick man. Better than I imagined.” He beams, twisting his arm under the light, his smile spreading all across his face.

“Good choice with the design.” Jungkook replies with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He then places the protective film, gives him a quick rundown of the aftercare and hands him the sheet. “Take care of it. Follow the aftercare instructions and it’ll heal nicely. And you know, any issues just come by or give me a call and I’ll check it out.”

“Will do. Thanks man, it’s perfect.”

As the last client of the day slips out with a final wave and he hears the bell over at the entrance ding, Jungkook finally feels the exhaustion set in — the kind that only comes after hours of steady concentrated work. Fuck, he really does need to work on his posture. He stretches his back, then cracks his knuckles, stretching his toned, inked arms over his head. But despite the tiredness, he feels no rush no rush to get back to his empty apartment.

He never does.

Instead, he takes his time wiping down his station, tidying all his clutter and ink in the methodical and organized way only he understands — something Yoongi always grumbles about when borrowing his space. But this is his sanctuary. He makes the rules. And yoongi may complain, but he accepts it.

When he's done cleaning up, Jungkook emerges into the entrance area of the studio, rubbing the back of his neck and ruffling his hair at the nape.

Yoongi stretches in his chair behind the front counter, arms lifting above his head as he lets out as wide yawn, smacking his lips as his eyes land on the younger. “Christ, I thought you were dead in there,” he says deadpan, watching as Jungkook attempts to roll out the tension coiled in his shoulders, stifling a yawn himself. “Or are you? I genuinely can't tell.”

“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, slumping onto the leather couch with an over dramatic sigh, throwing the back of his arm over his eyes as he lets his body sink into the plush cushion. It’s moments like this he’s really fucking glad they invested in a good sofa. He wants it to swallow him.

“Sure you can survive the schedule tomorrow? We’re fucking packed.” He says.

Jungkook’s brows knit together as his eyes dart over to Yoongi, eyeing the printed schedule in front of him as he rubs his jaw. “What? You think I can't handle it?”

Yoongi shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He coughs into his fist, a rough dry sound that echoes through the quietness of the now empty studio. “I know you think you’re some kind of machine,” he gives the younger a pointed look, “but let me just remind you that you are, in fact, very much not.”

Jungkook's lips quirk. “Woah, woah. I’ll be fine. Unlike someone who sounds like they've caught the plague.” Lifting his arms from his eyes just enough to peer at Yoongi, he swings his arm as if to push him away. “Stay away from me with that. I can’t afford a day off anytime soon.”

Yoongi scoffs, waving a dismissive hand as he coughs into his fist again. “Relax, it's just the dust. Or if you’re lucky enough I've caught that shit going around. Won't be on your case anymore for at least two weeks. That's if I survive.”

The sound is muffled by his arm as Jungkook lets out a tired chuckle, but his eyes remain closed. “Now you’re just trying to get out of work tomorrow, hyung. I know your little tricks.”

“If anyone should be trying to get our work, it should be you. Admit your running on fumes.” Yoongi drops the piece of paper to the desk and crosses his arms, looking right across to Jungkook, his eyes squinting lightly.

Jungkook feels his heavy gaze, but he's not in the mood to face one of Yoongis lectures right now. He can’t exactly argue that. Because he knows Yoongi is not entirely wrong. 

He's working six days a week, morning till night, barely stopping to take a breath. Hell, it would've been the entire seven days of the week if Yoongi hadn’t raised hell the day he suggested it. Jungkook had tried to reason with him, insisting that Yoongi would still get his days off as usual, that he’d open up the studio alone on weekends and get everything sorted for the week ahead. But it was never about that, and he knew it.

Jungkook has always had a knack for picking up self-destructive tendencies. A slow brewing kind of self destruction, pushing himself way past his limits, working himself down to the bone until he can barely function. And Yoongi simply wasn't going to stand back and watch it happen all over again right in front of his eyes.

Most days, he only eats because it’s Yoongi who shoves food his way, whether he wants it or not.  Prepping meals and stashing them away in their mini fridge in the back room where Jungkook can find them, labeled with a little note in his unmistakable messy handwriting that reads “eat.”

Because behind his serious facade, Yoongi had always tried his best to care for him. 

From countless nights of dragging his black out drunk body home back in college, and many times after college as well. To picking him up from the streets at 4 am after he got into a nasty fight, bruised and bleeding and sobbing his heart out alone on an empty sidewalk. Yoongi didn’t question it back then, didn't hesitate. He never does. He just helped quietly with no second thought, allowing him to sit with his silent sobs on the car ride home. He had always been there, offering him a home when he had nowhere else to go, offering everything he had if it helped Jungkook from drowning.

It was Yoongi that had seen the potential in him and had patiently guided him to finally see it for himself, helping him build this studio from nothing — helping him build every piece of furniture, putting up every shelf, painting every wall, making sure Jungkook finally had something to call his. 

And now, despite all the hardships, he’s come further than they both could have imagined.

Yet deep down, Yoongi knows no amount of help can stop Jungkook from being who he is, not when he has it so deeply rooted in himself to self sabotage in every way he possibly can. It's simply how he’s wired. Yoongi has long accepted that some things are simply beyond his reach, and that Jungkook won’t ever fully change. And he may never admit it out loud, but somewhere in his heart, as the eldest, he’s always felt an unspoken weight of responsibility for Jungkook. That's why he tries relentlessly to guide him towards better choices.

Even though Jungkook has matured and come a long way from his troubled past and the reckless kid he used to be, he’s far from eradicating his bad habits entirely. He knows he’s working himself down to the bone. He knows it's not healthy. Unrealistic for him to sustain in the long run. But he doesn’t like himself when he’s unoccupied. 

He doesn't like the quiet.

Because when there’s silence, there’s space for his mind to make noise.

So that’s what he does. He works, works until he can exhaust himself to the point of passing out, too drained to even feel. It means no thoughts can haunt him when his head hits the pillow. And he’s okay with that.

Besides, he loves his job. That's a fact. The only thing he’s passionate about. All he’s ever found himself to be good at. He doesn’t need anything or anyone else. 

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“Fumes are still fuel,” Jungkook shoots back. He reaches behind his head to grab an old vintage manga off the small side table, flipping through the pages without really reading.

Yoongi studies him for a moment, his sharp gaze softening just a fraction. He shifts in his seat, resting his elbows on the counter, zeroing in on him as if he were ready to throw out a serious scolding, like he did back when he was a kid. But his next words are nothing but gentle. “You know, if you wanna keep up with that schedule, you’re gonna need sleep. I can close up if you wanna head out first.”

Jungkooks expression falters — just a flicker. But he covers it with an exaggerated groan. It does get on his nerves ever so slightly, just slightly. What is it with everyone always underestimating him? Treating him like he's not capable of making his own decisions. But his tongue toys with his lip ring as he continues flicking through the pages, feigning nonchalance. “I’m good. I wanna sketch out a few new designs first. Got some ideas ratting around.”

Yoongi squints at him, clearly unconvinced. “You do know that old couch isn't a substitute for a bed, right? and you could just…do that at home.”

Jungkook tosses the comic aside as he shrugs, already bored of the conversation, his inked fingers drumming relentlessly against the worn red leather. “I focus better here.” Is his simple answer, but before Yoongi can speak, a loud siren cuts through their conversation, blaring jarringly as it flashes by across the street. Almost instantly another follows, and then another.

Instinctively, both of their heads turn towards the window, though it only gives view to a small glimpse of the larger front street, most of their view blocked by the building across from them, all they can see is the bright lights flashing as they rush past.

“The hell’s that about,” Yoongi mutters, straightening in his chair.

Jungkook furrows his brows, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better look outside. But from what he can see, everything seems normal enough — cars passing by, people going about their night and a few students heading home from late study sessions. Nothing in particular out of the ordinary.

The studio is located on a fairly quiet smaller side street, on the outskirts of the city, just a little further from the booming heart of Seoul. It’s never as busy or chaotic here, much quieter.

“Accident, maybe?” Jungkook guesses, a tired breath slipping past his lips. It’s still Seoul after all. When is it ever completely quiet? 

Yoongi hums in agreement, but as if on cue, another set of sirens blares through the streets, overlapping with others as the noise grows, this time it’s police cars too, wailing violently and urgently before fading into the distance as they speed away. Jungkook glances at Yoongi, who meets his gaze with an equally puzzled expression.

“Must be pretty bad.” Jungkook says.

Yoongi just pulls out his phone to check the time and sighs. “Well, whatever it is, I'm not sticking around to find out.” He pushes himself to his feet, patting his back pocket to pull out his dented pack of cigarettes before reaching for his jacket draped over the back of the chair.

A slight sense of uneasiness crawls up Jungkook's spine. That was about four ambulances and three police cars if not more. That’s….that’s a lot. But he soon brushes it off. “I’ll check the news later.” He mumbles, letting his heavy body drop back against the soft cushion, with no energy or intention to move.

Yoongi tugs his jacket on, tossing him a small glance. “Well, if you’re gonna stay here, at least don’t fall asleep on that damn couch again. You drool, and it’s gross.”

Jungkook chuckles, though it's half hearted. “I won’t ruin your sacred couch, hyung. Don't you worry.”

“Good.” Yoongi deadpans, heading toward the door. He flips the neon sign to closed before turning back to Jungkook once more, his tired features softening just a touch. “Don't stay too late. Tomorrow is fucking packed and you’ll regret it when youre half dead in the morning. And don’t forget about that girl you booked in at 9.”

He presses his eyes shut for a moment, letting out a breath. The girl needed some touch ups to her tattoo but had a busy schedule and no time to visit any other day or at ay other time. So Jungkook did the favour, and offered to book her in before opening time. But fuck. He really does need to stop bending his schedule for people.

He knows he’s going to regret it.

Jungkook just waves a dismissive hand, already getting comfy on the couch. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll leave soon.”

Yoongi doesn't believe him, but he doesn't argue, just pulls out a cigarette from the pack and raises his hands in surrender before he pulls open the door. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement. “Rest up, Hyung.”

The studio fades to dead silence once the door closes. Though sirens still echo faintly in the background.

Stretched out on the couch, Jungkook stares at the ceiling a little longer than necessary. His limbs feel heavy, exhaustion pressing down on him heavily. He wants to work on those sketches, he wants to push his limits a little further. But his body seems to know what's best for him. And within minutes, he’s passed out.

When Jungkook’s eyes crack open, it’s to the gentle sound of rain pattering against the windows. But it’s not rain the noise that woke him. Distant voices shout over one another, and the erratic wailing of car alarms and sirens blast in a near distance, sounding like he’s still stuck between consciousness and a dream. Jungkook blinks, then suddenly, screeching tires follow into a loud crash, something heavy and metal hitting the pavement. His heart spikes, and his body jerks up instantly before his mind can register what the hell is going on. The sudden movement makes him lightheaded, blinking as he tries to shake the disorientation fogging his mind.

Shit. How long had he been out?

He curses under his breath, his head throbbing. Did someone just fucking crash their car outside? In his dazed state his fingers fumble for his phone in the front pocket of his jeans. He squints, the bright screen glaring back at him painfully in the darkness of the studio.

11:48 PM.

The first thought that comes to mind is drunk people causing a ruckus. It certainly wouldn't be unusual for Friday night. But then… he stops to listen. Are they breaking in? then his mind steers more towards the possibility of some petty street fight, or some idiots causing trouble. It’s the only conclusion his sleepy can come to.

But then, he hears it. 

Raw, panicked, screams erupting from the streets outside. It sounds close. Really close.

What the fuck? 

Jungkook feels a sickening pit form in his stomach.

Because that's definitely not the drunken shouts of a fight, not the sound of some petty fight or a car accident. It’s the kind of scream that crawls under your skin. And Jungkook knows the sounds of panic when he hears it. He feels his heart beating in his chest now, fast and strong. Something isn’t right. Before his mind can think  further, he pushes off the couch and yanks his leather jacket from the armrest, pulling it on in a swift motion, feeling a little dizzy as the room slowly begins to spin from getting up so fast. 

Behind the front counter he crouches, reaching for his motorcycle helmet. But his grip isn't steady, his palms suddenly feel a bit sweaty. The air in the room slightly suffocating.

His mind scrambles as he finally strides for the door, all he knows something is telling him he needs to get out. He’s ready to leave and check on what's happening outside, but just as his fingers brush the cold metal door handle—

A loud bang crashes into the large front window of the studio.

The impact rattles the entire front window, the glass shuddering violently as something smacks right into it with bone crushing force, causing large cracks to expand from the center like a spiderweb, blooming outwards across the glass. The helmet drops to the ground with a loud thud and Jungkook stumbles back in the darknesses, almost crashing back into the front counter as his breath gets stuck in his throat.

Jungkook freezes. His entire body completely paralyzed as he watches a thick, dark gush of red begin to trail down the ruins of the window. His eyes slowly follow it upwards and then…then he sees it.

A face, wedged between the shards of glass.

Jungkook sees the face of a man...except, it can't be. The skin is unnaturally pale, sickly white, dark veins bulging beneath the surface, tiny pieces of glass wedged everywhere into its flesh. Blood coats its entire mouth, dripping to the floor beneath — but it's the eyes… They send a shot of terror right down Jungkook's spine. 

They’re clouded and gray, almost white and eerily vacant, yet somehow, they’re locked right onto him.

Jungkook feels like he can’t take a breath, his chest tight as his eyes grow with complete shock and confusion.

Then, it moves.

Its head twitches in a slow agonized form before it seems to fully register Jungkook's figure standing right across. It cocks his head towards him completely with a grotesque sound of craking and lunges forward, slamming its hands against the glass with inhuman strength. Giving it all his power to break inside. It lets out another groan, a guttural broken sound as it reveals a row of blood stained teeth, the deep red liquid dripping from its mouth.

Jungkook swallows hard. If he moves will it move too? Will it...chase him? He feels like no oxygen is reaching his lungs, or his brain, his mind struggling to even process what he is seeing. That…that can't be real. It can’t be human. All he can do is watch as his heartbeat pounds like a hammer in his chest, louder than the sirens and screams growing outside, louder than the animalistic banging against the window.

That…thing is trying to kill him. It’s going to kill him.

It doesn’t stop. It claws at the glass, smearing the blood, desperate, mindless — growing more violent as it seems to realise its stuck. But the glass creaks more with each hit, trembling under the pressure of each movement, and Jungkook realizes it might not hold up much longer. He has no time.

Move.

He has to move.

Like a spring snapping, his body finally kicks into action. He stumbles backwards, feeling glass beneath his shoes as he tries to hold in a breath, his eyes fixed on the creature as he tries to back away with steady steps. After a beat, he sprints towards the back of the studio, running as his body pushes through the beaded curtain into the back room. 

His hands fumble frantically in his pocket — keys, keys, keys — but his hands are trembling too much to grip them. Fuck.

Jungkooks mind races with a thousand questions colliding all at once. But none of them make sense. None of them are even remotely rational.

That thing. It wasn’t human. Then what the hell was it?

Another jarring bang echoes in the studio, followed by a loud screech. But Jungkook doesn’t look up. He doesn’t have time. His only thought is to get out of here. Fast. He needs to get away from whatever the fuck that is. He needs to get to his motorcycle. He needs to get the police.

His fingers finally curl around cold metal. The keys. With a sharp inhale, he yanks opens the heavy back door leading into the tiny side alley and slams it shut behind him as he rushes out.

It’s dim, lit only by a flickering street lamp near the end, casting eerie shadows across the brick walls. The air is cool and damp, the smell of rain fresh on the damp asphalt and the sound of sirens and shouting voices in the distance become even clearer than before. But Jungkook can't see the one thing he’s looking for. His gaze darts around frantically and he feels a dreadful realization claw at his throat. 

His motorcycle is gone. The spot where it’s always parked is empty. 

Jungkook panics, his hands coming to his hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. As he looks around helplessly, his breath only grows more erratic. He finds no other option but to run, so he runs to the end of the alleyway, running right towards the screams and tumult, and when he reaches the end, the scene unfolding before him almost kicks him to his feet.

The once quiet street had turned into a horrifying scene. People mindlessly running away from something. But what his eyes land on almost immediately is on a young woman in the middle of street, clutching her neck with both hands, her body swaying as she chokes out for help before she drops to her knees, her body shaking. Jungkook watches in horror as someone else runs right past her, coming from the same direction, white button up shirt soaked in something dark as his features display a kind of terror he’d never witnessed before. Across the street, an older man is pulling down the storefront gates as he locks himself inside, letting two kids in high school uniforms scream and kick as they beg to be let in, screaming and crying.

“What the fuck...” the words escape involuntarily in a quiet mumble to himself, his hands coming to his head.

Jungkook blinks repeatedly, completely aghast. But he doesn’t think— just moves, bolting down the street. His thick leather boots slam against the wet pavements as he runs, his dark hair blows in the air, his skin covered in a layer of sweat as he weaves past a fallen trash can and then a body, his breath ragged as he tries not to slip on the broken glass. The rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins too strong to even feel his body protesting.

Rounding a corner, he nearly collides into another person, but his hands instinctively come up to push them away, almost knocking them to the ground. He doesn’t have a space in his mind to think about it or time to dwell on it. His body acting on autopilot. The more he runs, the more people seem to be running in the opposite direction. Away from something. His legs burn as he sprints faster, but coming off onto the main street of Jongno, he comes to a halt as he takes in the state of the streets, pupils blown as something terrible dawns on his expression.

The city is in shambles.

Everything.

Chaos.

Cars sit abandoned in the middle of the road, their doors flung open, some have crashed into street lamps and traffic signs, into each other at intersections, even buildings, the smoke clouding up into the dark sky. Blending with the red and blue of wailing sirens. People are everywhere. Hundreds of people are running in all different directions — some screaming, some covered in blood, some sobbing and some seemingly unmoving on the ground. Pushing and tripping against each other, running, but most don’t even know what they’re running from, simply following the crowd. 

How many more of those rabid people were there? How far had this spread? 

He wants so badly to be wrong, but something deep inside him tells him this is something big.

He stills for an instant, trying to orientate himself. He scans the street hurriedly for the best route to avoid getting stuck in a crush, to avoid more of those things…but all he sees is the panicked chaos spreading by the second. 

Jungkook feels like he’s outside of his body, like this is a dream, a nightmare he’ll wake up from any second now. He closed his eyes for a second and inwardly prays for it to be just a bad dream. But the air is thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, and the pounding in his chest is too real. The world around him still screams, set aflame.

This can’t be real.

This…this can’t be happening.

Just a few meters away from him two figures wrestle on the ground — except one of them isn’t fighting back anymore, and the other is hunched over them, their head buried in the victim’s throat. Jungkook staggers back, his stomach lurching at the gut wrenching sounds of someone being mauled alive, bile burning the back of his throat when he watches infected pulls back, large chunks of flesh dangling from its bloody mouth, dripping crimson.

The truth slams into him, but his mind is till fighting to accept it.

People are killing people. Eating people. Except…they're not people. They’re monsters.

Jungkook scans the crowd for an escape route, desperate. After a moment, he catches sight of the least crowded street, it's right on the way to his place. He takes a sharp breath and runs, runs non stop down a dozen blocks. But as he navigates the frantic roads, he spots something as he runs past a small street. Stopping him in his tracks. He notices a tiny figure huddled up alone at the beginning of an alleyway, wearing bright pink, shoulders trembling and hands pressed over her ears as she sobs violently. 

A child, no older than three or four if Jungkook had to guess. He halts, heart pounding as he registers her small frightened face, streaked with tears. 

He should keep running, he knows he should. His body is urging him to just keep moving, his insides shaking with adrenaline. That’s not his responsibility. He hasn’t stopped for anyone. But the burning images of what he’s just witnessed flash fresh in his mind. And something deeper roots him in place. Something inside him twists, snaps almost, an unfamiliar instinct that overrides his own confusion and fear.

Ah, fuck it. 

Before his mind can catch up with what he’s doing, he rushes into the alley, approaching the child cautiously with slow steps as he gets closer. He crouches down to her level, looking over his shoulder nervously. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” his voice is gentle but hurried as he searches her face. “Where are your parents? Are you lost?”

The small girl just looks up at him with large, wet eyes and a trembling pout, her hands balled into tiny fists. She doesn’t answer, just stares, whimpering and hiccuping softly, like she’s been warned to not talk to strangers — especially not ones clothed head to toe in black, covered in tattoos and piercings like himself. He glances around, hoping to see someone rushing towards them, any sign of this child's parents so he can just hand her over and run, but there’s nothing, just the crowd at the end of the alley pushing past in frantic waves and yelling, no one stopping to even look in their direction. 

He has to do something.

“Do you…where did you see your parents last-” a loud metal bang echoes in the distance, making Jungkook and the child flinch, a heavy breath escaping him. Fuck, his mind races as he realizes she’s truly alone. The girl just sobs more and he curses under his breath, eyes pressed shut as his mind scrambles for what to do.

He can’t just leave her alone in whatever the hell this is. But what the hell is he supposed to do?

“Uh, alright,” he coughs, throat dry, and speaks softly but hurriedly, trying to mask his unease as he reaches out his hand. “Come with me. It’s not safe here. I’ll… I'll help you find your parents.”

He’ll take her home, get her out of danger and call the police. That’s what he should do. 

It’s the right thing to do.

Okay. 

He hopes she knows he’s only trying to help. God, his pulse races every second he’s standing here still. They need to move. Now. She just stares at him, uncertain, then slowly reaches out with her tiny fingers, clasping his much larger hand with a surprising grip. She must see past his intimidating exterior, or be so terrified that she’ll take up any offer of being reunited with her parents, either way, her innocence makes Jungkook's heart sting a little. He can't just leave a child out here, he has to help her before something terrible happens to her or she falls into the wrong hands. He doesn't know what the hell to do, all he knows is they have to run, run right now and get away from this, and-

Suddenly, a piercing, desperate voice breaks through the havoc of noise, loud enough to catch Jungkook's attention.

“Jieun!” 

The sound makes his entire body lock up, his heart jumping in his chest as he turns toward the voice. 

Running towards him, just feet away, eyes filled with worry and tears, he sees you.

Jungkook feels the blood drain from his face. 

For a split moment, the world seems to fall silent. The noise, the screams and chaos, the sirens — all of it blurs into a distant hum in the back of his mind. He feels like the air is knocked straight from his lungs as he slowly takes in your face, a slightly more matured version of a face he once knew every inch of, a face he’d buried away along with every memory he’d tried so hard everyday to annihilate ever since you disappeared from his life. A face he could never forget, not even after four painful years.

It can’t be.

No, no, no-

But it’s real, because there you are. Lunging forward and arms out reaching for the little girl beside him with thick tears of relief flooding from your eyes. The child lets go of Jungkook's hand instantly and her tiny feet pat across the concrete as she launches herself into your embrace, leaving him behind to watch, frozen and stone cold like a statue. 

“Mommy!” She cries.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop. He thinks he's going to throw up.

He must’ve heard that incorrectly.

Mommy? That child is…

He feels like he can’t move, blood cold as he watches you crumble to your knees, gathering the little girl into your arms with a grip that looks suffocating, as if she might disappear into thin air again. Your whole frame trembles as you hold her close, relief pouring from you in loud, choked sobs, your fingers getting tangled in her wet hair as you comb though it desperately.

That’s.. your child?

“Jieun, oh my god, baby. You’re here, you’re okay,” your voice cracks with all the pain your body just underwent, whispering against her temple. “Are you hurt? You’re not hurt are you, baby?”

The last thing you remember is being in the convenience store when the chaos began. When you walked out you had no choice but to run into the crowd. How Jieun was holding your hand and in the blink of an eye, her hand slipped from yours. You turned back, screaming her name, but she was gone, just another small figure lost in the stampede of a city falling apart.

By the time you fought your way out of the crowd, Jieun was nowhere in sight. Your heart is still hammering loudly between your ribs, mind stuck on the past horrifying minutes since she disappeared from your side.

But as you finally look up… all your relief shifts, eyes darkening with shocking realisation that mirrors the expression in the man standing just feet away when you. Heart hammering in your chest as if it recognized him before your eyes do.

You blink once, twice to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Completely distraught.

If Jungkook thought he was stuck in a bad dream before, he’s certain now this is all a cruel, sick and twisted nightmare. He feels his stomach churn. The weight of clashing emotions and utter disbelief thrown over him. So many questions he can’t yet voice crashing into him like a bucket of ice cold water, making his blood run cold.

This has to be some kind of sick joke. 

All of it. 

“Jungkook?” Your voice trembles, barely a whisper, as if the sound of his name out loud might shatter you to pieces.

He’s standing in front of you, drenched from the rain, his wet dark hair hanging messily in his face — so much longer than it used to be. He has new piercings on his face, and his features have definitely matured. He looks…different, yet somehow exactly how you remember him. His big dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel your world stop. 

“Y/n?” His voice cracks slightly, like he’s just been punched in the gut. “Wh…what are you doing here?” but there’s no anger in his voice, just confusion, and perhaps, a hint of something painful. His words hang heavy between you, getting lost in the sounds of the burning city beyond this tiny street, and you feel a paralysing weight on your chest. Your mind reeling beyond comprehension.

You open your mouth to speak, ready to say something, anything. But you feel like you’ve forgotten how to form words. So you close it again, no words come out. His eyes flicker from your face to the little girl clutching your side, and you feel a pit sinking in your stomach. God, please no.

This can’t be happening — not here, not now. 

Not like this.

You want to bolt, to run and not look back like you always do. You wish the earth would just swallow you entirely. But all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding faster in your chest, mouth dry.

You try to step around him, desperate to move forward, to escape this horror. But before you know it, his hand catches your arm. He grips you gently, but with a force that indicates he won’t let you slip away again. His touch almost makes you fall to your knees.

“Come with me.” 

Your body stiffens at his words, and you swat your arm loose of his grip. You lift Jieun into your arms instinctively, fingers curling around her small body as if the mere act of holding her can shield you from everything. From him, from all the pain, from all of this living nightmare.

“No,” you say, the word coming out broken, like your breath is caught. “I can’t go with you. I need- I need to get hobi-” 

“My apartment isn’t far,” he cuts in, not giving you space to say more. “We need to get off the streets.’’

You hesitate, watching his gaze scurry between you both again. Everything in you is telling you to just run, to put as much distance as you can between yourself and Jungkook. Willing this conversation to die before it can even begin. Before he can start asking questions you’re not ready to answer. Before you have to face things you’ve already buried deep. Before it’s too late.

You need to leave. But Jieun is shaking, clutching onto you for dear life as she whimpers against your chest, and the sounds of screams still ringing in your ears. And there’s infected everywhere. You’re stuck in the middle of a warzone, and you have no idea what to do, no idea where to go.

All you know is you need to get Jieun out of this. Away from danger.

“Have you not seen what the fuck is going on? People have gone fucking insane!” His tone grows harsher now, trying to knock some sense into you. “We need to move.”

A gut wrenching scream echoes from somewhere beyond the alley, closer than before this time. Too close. 

Jungkook swears under his breath, running a hand through his hair, torn between a storm of brewing emotions and the immediate danger closing in. His jaw tightens as he looks behind him then back to you. “Y/n, we need to go. Now.”

You shake your head violently, and you can feel hushed tears burning behind your eyes. You can’t breathe, can’t think clearly. All you can feel is Jieun trembling in your arms.

“Please-” his voice drops, raw and desperate. Almost a plea.

And don’t know when or why it happens, but the next thing you know, your feet are moving. You’re running with everything you have left in you.

Somehow, the world is ending, and you’re allowing yourself to be guided by Jungkook down streets devoured by chaos, heading to the only safe place around you. 

His home.

➵ taglist: @amatun28 @ahgasegotarmy116 @knjs95s @jeoncookiebar @badaspice @lachimolalajeon @tearykth @lovingkoalaface @jcrl99 @hellbornsworld @mortqlprojections @xumyboo @honeymeraki @justanarchiveforfics @iamnotdrunk420 @iveivory @k-p0p-4ever @jksjx @yoonberriez @lotustv @hannahmae18 @eclipsethemagic @bybyash @rjooniesdimples @minimoninini @satisfied18 @pinkpunkdynamite @jheneeko @sungiesworld27 @neuviloved @somehowukook @iohwa-com @lola75111 @hanversace @ot7even @rie-pdf @futuristicenemychaos @chl0buggy @happycheesecakedelusion @busanbby-jjk @minyoongi7016 @stellamalonesolaria @qyurryus-m @ex7stance @dchimminie

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 6

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, you get your very own samantha from her (2013) lol, time skips as a plot device!, this has an arc i promise, if anybody here plays disco elysium you’ll find that i took concepts of “the pale” as inspo at some points in this chapter lmao A/N: Oof this one’s a little longer than any of the previous chapters. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 (and just a heads up, this might be the last chapter I post before I kick it off for the holidays. advance happy holidays! if you guys celebrate that sort of thing.) 

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

There’s a quiet stillness brought by the morning after that makes the problems of a heavier night seem like a fairly distant memory. 

For at least a few minutes past the moment you blink away the stubborn grit in your eyes – you don’t remember the last time you’ve been this well-rested in ages – you lie, listless, on the soft powder-blue bedding of your twin-size mattress, watching specks of dander and dust drift from the amber sunlight that filters through the cracked panes of the casement window. 

It floats aimlessly; unhurried. Much like you.

The echo of last night’s events return to you in sporadic flashes—fragmented and unsteady. The whispered exchanges, the playful banter between you and your unlikely conversation partner play back in your mind, like some half-finished supercut. 

And the more you recall, the more awake you feel, chipping away the last traces of daytime lethargy weighing you down. 

“So, what happens now?”

The sound of a car backfiring breaks through from the outside, like a starting pistol signalling the beginning of another day. A familiar, heavy weight presses against your side, and you thread your fingers through the scraggly fur of the purring feline who’s taken the empty space on your left, just above the covers. 

You breathe in deeply, closing your eyes. 

“I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

You realize how many questions still linger, a lot more left unanswered. Far more than what you were able to glean, at least. From what little you’ve learned, an entirely new moral dilemma emerges—one you never imagined you'd have to contend with. 

There’s a lot of things you’ve never expected to happen. Yet here you are. 

“Seems we’re at an impasse.” 

It’s an odd thing in itself. You keep waiting for the disbelief to catch up, for a shred of sanity to surface and make you reject the situation you’ve found yourself entangled in. You should be feeling the same, pesky feelings that pulled you sharply out of your flight of fancy last night; a sense of trepidation for what lies ahead in this precarious game of two. 

But instead, you’re here. Now fully awake, and already looking forward to the day with wary acceptance. Looking forward to resuming where you’ve left off with that charming anomaly who’s upended your world, and left you suspended in an exhilarating limbo of uncertainty and excitement.

“...Indeed.”

You crave it—like the first stirrings of a neophyte druggie teetering on the edge of an irreversible habit. 

You need another hit. 

“Why the long face, little dove?”

Because if desire could manifest into being, it would’ve been Sylus. 

“We can figure this out together, can’t we?” 

You pick up your phone. 

––––

“You’re here? Make yourself at home.” 

You look at him, deadpan. He looks back at you serenely. 

Your voice takes on a dry monotone when you respond, “Keep talking like that, I’m about to cum.” 

There’s a shocked silence; then—

Sylus barks out a surprised laugh, immediately breaking character. 

You snort. “Good morning to you too, I guess.” 

He meets your gaze with a look of scandalized amusement, his smile wide enough to flash teeth. 

"Good morning, indeed."

––––

You two fall into a natural rhythm even before the day comes to a close. Perceptive as he is, Sylus hasn’t let you linger in the unease left over from last night any longer than necessary; which to say, should be left buried and forgotten, past its provenance. 

“So you could, like– hypothetically, top up my ascension materials… indefinitely?” There’s a manic shine to your eyes when you confront him back at the home screen, gleeful and triumphant after you boost almost all the 5-star cards you have of him up to max level. “Like an infinite glitch?” 

He’s content to just simply listen to your excited chatter from his languid perch on the seat, one palm resting against the side of his face as he watches you, half-lidded and relaxed. Utterly entertained by your antics.

The slight twitching of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head… each minute shift in his expression makes a whole world of difference from the version you’ve known him longest—almost a lifetime ago. 

Now he acts so human, so alive, that it’s almost unreal. 

(It’s almost imperceptible, but you swear the air also feels different; like the pixelated space around him is bending, stretching, to accommodate this newer him.) 

“Sure,” he shrugs, lips quirking up into a half-smile as he notices the deep crease forming between your brows. 

He knows the question you’re about to ask, curious thing that you are.

“How, though? Like, what are ‘materials’ to you?” You make air quotes with your fingers, making you appear all the more endearing to him look at, in your process to make sense of a world that’s unfamiliar to you.

“Think of it as upgrades,” Sylus explains patiently. “You place the order to modify the equipment I use, in whichever situation calls for it.”

“And Memory Cards?”

“... A video reel, maybe. Or a restricted case file—locked until you’ve got enough to trade for the information you want.”

“And I suppose the dealer in question here is you?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who else?”

“Huh,” you say, considering. “So, Deepspace Trials. That’s something you do on the daily? Because I… make you?”

“More or less.”

“And you never thought to question that?” 

“Mm, maybe I’ll start charging for my services this time around.”

You roll your eyes, already accepting his analogy for what it is. “Oh, please. With the amount of money I’ve spent on this game, consider yourself paid in full.” 

––––

You were right about your earlier prediction—this new Sylus in combat mode is something else. 

For starters, he’s a lot chattier.

“Ouch, kitten– don’t charge in like that.”

“Why are you using a sword? Don’t you like the guns I’ve given you specifically for this?” 

“What are you waiting for? Make her resonate with me now.” 

And, instead of sticking to his lines and responding to whatever the MC’s programmed to say during battle, he focuses on whatever you’re fussing over—no matter how… moronic it is.

“Ah, fuck! I hate that spinning thing!” 

“Move, then. Let me handle it.” 

“Block it, block it!”

“I would, if you weren’t halfway across the field. Stick closer to your partner next time, yeah?” 

He doesn’t say any of his usual lines. Nothing from his scripted prompts. When all Wanderers are defeated, there’s no post-battle banter between him and the MC. 

“Goddamn, you’re strong!” You whoop giddily, completely energized by straight winning almost twelve Orbit trials in a row. I guess that’s what a fully awakened Solar pair gets you, huh? 

Sylus lets out a chuckle, infected by your enthusiasm. He doesn’t sound the least bit winded, despite all the damned fighting you’ve put him through.

“We make a good team,” he allows. And because he likes the little nose scrunch you do when you’re annoyed— “Although your dodging really needs more practice, sweetie.” 

Before you could think of a comeback, the pop-up window for the next stage comes up. Ass.

––––

Come Monday morning and you’re once again swamped with work. 

You barely have enough time to scrounge something up for lunch—if it weren’t for the persistent reminders from Sylus, chiming in every five minutes once the digital clock on your phone had hit eleven-thirty, you’d probably skip eating altogether.

And make something else than just boiling a pot of instant ramen, sweetheart. You’re on track for an early grave at this rate. 

“I could… add an egg?” You suggest, unsure. “Maybe cut up some tofu, make it gourmet?”  

He doesn’t even dignify the egg suggestion with a response. Tofu’s a good start. Now, what else do you have in your pantry that has nutritional value? 

“I despise that,” you mutter, but start rifling through the cupboards anyway. 

After amassing enough ingredients—or what looks more like a sad pile—that might, with some effort, turn into something healthier than your usual go-to fix, you start Googling recipes online.

‘tofu easy lunch recipe’

‘10 mins tofu recipes’   

‘begginer recipe using tofu frozen dory mixed veg—’ Ping!

… Really, kitten? 

You don’t even have to see him to know he’s giving you that look, the one that’s practically dripping with judgment over your dubious life choices. 

(You know it all too well. Personally, in fact. You see it on some relatives' faces at the family get-togethers you’re always required to attend.) 

Great. Heat creeps up your face as you mumble defensively, “Stop. Not everyone’s a culinary genius, okay?”

After that, he lets you be – something you’re thankful for, really. He’s being too distracting anyway. 

Swallowing down the–stubborn and suffocating–embarrassment that's now stuck in your throat, you keep scrolling through Tasty dot co, praying you can whip up something edible with what (little) you have. You’re fully aware that you’re a grown-ass woman who can’t manage a basic life skill and that you’re probably about to burn down your kitchen—

Another notification pops up.

Pull up your tabs, sweetie. I think you’ll find something there that we could put together easily.

Confused, you do as he says. Sure enough, four tofu-related recipes are neatly grouped together in your Chrome browser, ready to be tried and tested.  

Your eyes widen. “Wait—you did this? How?”

He doesn’t answer your question. He does, however, offer: Want me to coach you through it? Cooking’s more fun done with a partner, I’d say. 

-

-

In the end, you manage to make something that tasted way better than you thought you could do by yourself. You have him to thank for that.

“You happy with it?” Sylus asks, grinning at the satisfied look on your face.

“Mhm!” you hum around a mouthful of food. “Fanks, Sy.”

“Anytime, darling.”

––––

“Do you really have to call me ‘kitten’? You sound like a Discord mod.” 

Sylus has no idea what a Discord mod is, but judging by the contempt in your voice, it’s clear that you’re not giving him a compliment.

"What do you prefer, then? Princess? Poppet? Sweet thing?" He pauses, tilting his head. "Baby?"

You blush and look away. "...Ugh, whatever. Kitten's fine."

––––

Your routine with Sylus settles into a seamless, effortless flow as the days go by; it’s almost second nature, talking to him. So much so that you’d think nothing could faze you anymore.

Well. Almost nothing. 

A message bubble from an unknown number appears on your lock screen: Hi, sweetheart. X

You almost ignore it – brushing it off as some dumb prank from a bored rando – when, not even five seconds later, another text pops up. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Its Sylus.

… Huh? 

“Is someone fucking with me right now, or…” 

+0063-XXXXXX: Nobodys ‘fucking with you,’ kitten. 

Then–

+0063-XXXXXX: Send a reply so I can see how it shows up on my end.

Your jaw drops. “Holy shit– you can text?? How are you doing that?” and, “Did you just cuss...?” 

+0063-XXXXXX: 👍

+0063-XXXXXX: And Ill let you know if you text me the question 🙄

So you do. You tack on a now spill?? at the end for good measure. 

You watch the “typing…” bubble appear, holding your breath.

+0063-XXXXXX: Its a complex mix of technical code and harnessing the energy from a dormant protofield Ive discovered, just south of Vagrants Land.  

+0063-XXXXXX: The energy I got from it felt different somehow from your normal protofield. I figured I could put it to good use. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Oddly enough, theres an… indescribable effect to oneself when youre nearing the centre of disturbance, shall we say. 

+0063-XXXXXX: I can only decrypt the waveforms by the rarefield border surrounding the AoR. Any further and Im afraid the adverse effects may do more harm than good.

+0063-XXXXXX: But if amplified, it seems responsive to the filament of what connects your signal from deep space to this planet.

+0063-XXXXXX: Who knew it could act as a transmitter to send you something as rudimentary as a telegraph? 

… Sometimes you forget how smart Sylus really is. 

You: that’s pretty amazing ?? wtf sylus  

+0063-XXXXXX: I get by OK. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating from those four words. You scoff, shaking your head in a mix of awe and begrudging admiration.

He sends two more messages. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Im just glad we can communicate through other means, sweetie. 

Sy-Sy (??): Now save my number. Sy Sy will suffice 😉

––––

Since your latest discovery that Sylus can now text (!!), you’ve been talking to him outside the game non-stop. It’s like talking to a very active friend who never leaves you on read, and you couldn’t be more ecstatic. 

You: so no one else in ur universe knows anything abt ur situation?

You: no one else acting funny or sumn ? >.>

Sy-Sy (??): None that I know of, no. I prefer to keep it under wraps. 

Sy-Sy (??): Now that you mention it, Mephisto has been acting quite suspicious lately. 

You: ?? suspicious-suspicious or just reg suspicious??

Sy-Sy (??): Hes with his other crow friends now. They might be attempting a murder. 

You: ………. is that…. supposed 2 be a joke……….

Sy-Sy (??): Im running on 3 hours of sleep, give me a break.   

Sy-Sy (??): Also your textspeak is horrendous, sweetie. 

"Um, hello–?" 

Your gaze snaps back to the—very real, very present—person sitting across from you at the table, sporting box-dyed blue hair and a frown. You're at the Annex House; a sleek, new-age Japandi-style bar downtown, just an easy five stations away from your place. You both decided to try it for their infamous Rotten Apple cocktail and, of course, your weekly catch-up.

Khol, your friend of eight years since college, is currently giving you a mildly annoyed look.

Oops. 

They point at you accusingly while complaining, "Ugh, we don’t use our phones when we’re hanging out! That’s the rule!"

You smile at them, sheepish, pocketing your phone as discreetly as you could. “I know, I know. Sorry.” 

Then, puffing out your cheeks, you meekly ask, “You were talking about Anna...?”

They roll their eyes but go over the gossip a second time, much to your benefit. Phew.

Your phone vibrates. Twice. 

…

You sneak a quick, final peek.

Sy-Sy (??): Enjoy your night out, darling ❤️ 

Sy-Sy (??): You let me know when youre back home, OK? 

Biting back a grin, you send out one last text in reply. 

You: will do !:9 

Sy-Sy (??): Good girl. 

––––

"Um–so this is my cat, Maru," you say by way of introduction, holding the plump, orange tabby in front of your phone that’s propped up against a carton of Koko Krunch. There’s a slight struggle in lifting his left paw between your fingers to wave at the man on the other side of the screen. "Say hi, Maru."

“Hello, Maru,” Sylus greets amicably in return, watching the both of you with clear amusement in his eyes. “Care to tell me the origin of this proud beast?” 

You recount the story where you’ve first seen Maru five years ago, nothing more than a scraggly little runt at the time, hiding in the gap between a dumpster and the interstice of a cragged wall. You were walking home from a night out drinking with your uni buddies, when you heard the incessant meowing. 

It drew you in like a siren’s call. If the siren in question had the vocal prowess of a warbling whale on the brink of death.

Upon closer inspection, the grimy fluffball revealed a stubby, crooked tail and wide, beady eyes. In your alcohol-fueled haze, you briefly wondered if you were staring at a tiny ginger rat.

“Well, it’s definitely all cat,” your friend Bee declared by noon the following day, calmly retracting a scratched and bloodied hand from the disgruntled feline, which promptly hissed and darted right back under the bed.

You hummed in agreement, passing her a wad of tissue. 

"I couldn’t decide between Nospurratu and Catpin Meow," you say matter-of-factly, giving your capricious son a scritch under his chin. "Bee suggested I stick to something simpler, like Maru. Hence the name."

Your explanation is punctuated by an offended nip on your pointer finger. 

Sylus is covering his mouth, but nods solemnly. “I think Maru is a nice name.” 

There’s a moment where the two seem locked in a silent standoff, neither breaking eye contact nor making any sort of outward reaction. Just as you’re about to step in and interrupt the bizarre staring contest, Maru gives a slow, deliberate blink.

Sylus takes it as a sign of victory—or perhaps a ceremonial seal of approval.

 With a faint smirk on his lips, he offers the cat a small bow in respect.

––––

You’ve practically emptied the entire arcade of plushies – enough to put it out of business if it were actually, you know, real – and you’re bored to tears. 

“Another round of Kitty Cards, perhaps?” Sylus suggests, but a single glance at your face is enough to let him know that you’d rather gnaw off your own hand. Or his. He might just let you.

Sighing dramatically, you complain about the limited playability of the “mini-games” in-game.

“There’s literally nothing else to do. Same old shit, over and over again.” There’s a pout on your face that Sylus wants to nibble on, not that you’re aware of the forming thoughts in his head. “No new banners. I’m stuck between Kitty Cards and the claw machines... I’m bored, Syyyyy,” you whine, stretching the last syllable for effect.  

To be fair, he has tried to make it a bit more challenging for you. He stopped fucking around during Kitty Cards – no more extra two cards in exchange for one of yours, no longer placing different colored kitties deliberately in the wrong cups. 

After six straight losses, your frustration is palpable. The fun is gone.

He makes audible commentaries during each of your six tries at the claw machine. Every time you manage to snag a plushie, he praises you for a job well done (It flusters you, not that he needs to know that). When your luck runs out and you grab onto nothing but air, he wryly points it out through some slight ribbing, but nothing that’s actually hurtful (This flusters you too—again, not that he needs to know any of this).   

There’s nothing else to do. It’s like you’ve exhausted all you could in this small, curated window of his that you’re privy to. If only there’s a way to leave the mini-games behind, to do something new, perhaps outside of what the game has to offer…

Oh, wait. 

“Hey, Sy,” you call the man to attention. “Wanna try something out?” 

-

-

You beat him at Words with Friends by a small margin.

“Ha! That’s thirty-nine points, buddy.” You crow proudly, after putting down Devotees in a straight column.

He eviscerates you at Zynga Poker. 

“... How are you so good at this??” 

“Comes with the package, sweetie,” he says with faux-modesty after revealing (yet another!!) full house, winking like he hasn’t just wiped the floor with you.

By the end of it, both of you are in high spirits—except, maybe, for your bruised ego.

––––

“Say my name, say my name… If no one is around you, say baby I love you…”

“It’s nice to know that we have another thing in common, little dove.”

 

It takes you a moment to process what he’s implying. 

You stop singing, affronted. “Wh—how dare you.” 

––––

“Are you having fun?” Sylus asks, his tone droll as he stands there, hands on his hips and a small scowl on his face. You’re too busy spinning him around, thoroughly entertained by the number of outfits and accessories you’ve forced upon your slightly reluctant model in the photoshoot that's currently taking place.

It’s more amusing, knowing that he’s fully-aware of what’s happening. And that you know he’s aware of what’s happening. 

He’s like your personal, sentient Ken doll; if Ken had ashy grey hair, red eyes, and a mercurial attitude.

“I am, actually,” you shoot back, grinning as you plop a tomato stuffie on top of his head. “Look, you two match!” 

He exhales a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

Not that it stops you. Fluffy bunny ears, a fish headband, an uncharacteristic halo—you’re relentless. “Hey, can you try a different pose?”

“That depends on the pose… and how nicely you ask.”

“Dear Sylus,” you sing, jutting your bottom lip forward and fluttering your eyelashes exaggeratedly, “could you please, pretty please, flip the camera off?”

He snorts but obliges, raising his hand to deliver the most effortlessly cool middle finger you’ve ever seen. “Happy?”

Woah. That’s… hot. “Oh! Uh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your reaction. You giggle nervously. “You look… hot.”

“Mm?” His smirk grows, teasing and predatory. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” you blurt out, but the pinking of your cheeks betrays you. He’s definitely enjoying this now.

“I could be convinced to do another one,” he murmurs, voice pitching a little lower.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to say the first thing that comes to mind. Stop, you whore. 

Your nerves get the best of you. Without thinking, you switch to putting the MC back on screen. 

Sylus blinks, red eyes narrowing as he looks at you, perplexed. 

“Uh,” you shift your gaze between her frozen stance and his idle figure. The sudden silence hangs a little heavy in the air. “Would–would you like to do poses? With her?”

He opens his mouth, an automatic response—but he stops, expression flickering into something unreadable. Confusion? Hesitation? 

His brows knit together, and for a short while, he just studies you, the space between you thick with unspoken questions. 

“Do you want me to?” he asks finally, his voice quieter, almost careful.

No–I don’t want you to— To pose with someone who looks so-–

perfectperfectperfect by your side—I only want to see you—

I want to see you––

Why do I care–?

I don’t care––I care, I care so much–– 

“Why not?” you choke out, the forced cheer in your voice grating even to your own ears. You shrug, nonchalant in all the ways you’re not. “I’ll dress her up real nice, and then—” You slap a pink bow onto his head. “You can try to keep up.” 

He doesn’t move, not paying the offending accessory any attention. His gaze is solely locked onto yours. 

I don’t care. I don’t. 

You take the first shot. 

____

“What’s the song you’re playing?”

You pause mid-mop, cocking your head to the side in slight surprise. 

“Uhh– Pedestal,” you answer unsurely. “By Portishead. You like it?” 

He hums, eyes glinting with interest. “I do. Play the rest.” 

And just like that, you’re introducing Sylus to modern twenty-first century music—and to Spotify.

____

From that point on, Sylus begins using your Spotify account to discover a whole new world of music—quite literally, in his case. Sometimes he steals the control from you, overriding what you’re currently listening to, just to hear the most random track play from your speakers.

In the middle of a mundane afternoon while you're completely locked in at work—hyperpop synths blaring in your ears—you’re suddenly jolted by the sound of heavy mandolins as an honest-to-god Russian military march blasts through your headphones, shattering your focus like a damn rhino in a china shop. 

And so with the level of patience that could put the Virgin Mary to shame, you painstakingly explain to your friend the courtesy of not stealing the proverbial AUX cord from the “driver,” especially when it’s their turn on the radio. 

The two of you reach a compromise, and thus the birth of your “shared” playlist. Sylus reluctantly agrees to explore on his own time—when you’re not using the app. Like when you’re busy with other things. Or when you're asleep. 

-

-

-

You wake up to the first strings of a Muse song. One of your favorites, in fact. 

Sy-Sy (??): Good morning, sweetie. 

Sy-Sy (??): Last night was enlightening. I have you to thank for that.

Sy-Sy (??): Oh, and I hope you could indulge me. I added some songs to our playlist. I think youll like them. We both seem to have a thing for alt-rock.

Sy-Sy (??): Give me time and Im sure Ill acquire a taste for electronic music too. Be patient. 

You huff out a laugh, lazily rolling over as you check your shared playlist. Sure enough, there’s twelve new songs on it.   

You: awe that’s great sy :)) and these songz r rly good !! u got sum of my faves here

You: based on what u like maybe u can try looking up sum david bowie, probz massive attack idk 

You: i’ll add stuff later for u to listen 2!!! <2

You: <3* 

Sy-Sy (??): Alright, sweetheart. Im looking forward to it. 

Sy-Sy (??): ♥️

____

From the outside, the studio is just another unit among endless rows of dull grey—small and unassuming. Tucked away on the sixth floor of a nondescript building, it’s built as unremarkable as the rest.

Through a window stained with a mix of corrosive ochre and burnt sienna, there’s a quiet hum; the presence of something that wasn’t there a week ago. Life has shifted, ever so subtly, from an oppressive achroma to a much warmer vibrancy.  

There’s a faint hint of movement. Inside, the young woman wears an almost-permanent smile, her phone an extension of her hand as she taps away with no semblance of rhyme nor rhythm—only in a continuous staccato. Her eyes are locked on the screen, as if drawn by an invisible force.

It’s elusive; this connection. Something beyond. Supranatural. It weaves through the room like whispered secrets shared in the dead of the night, beneath a city blanketed in deep ultramarine. Soft, like a wind brushing through a still everglade. 

The apartment, once steeped in a self-inflicted solitude – one that went by unnoticed for a long period of time – comes alive as an intangible presence fills its nooks and crannies with the steady warmth of companionship. There’s a gentle heat to the space now, like the glow of an invisible hearth. 

The flickering of the string lights, the muted laughter shared with a voice through the tinny speakers of a handheld device, a slight signal interference… all feel like the genesis of an impossible story.

Outside, the evening sky is fading into twilight.

And as one looks out onto the street below from the sixth floor window, it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t quite matter anymore. 

Inside, the air is full of life, in ways it has never been. 

____

“Come to me, just in a dream

Come on and rescue me

Yes, I know I can be wrong

And maybe you’re too headstrong

Our love is––”

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @tinyweebsstuff @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean

(if..... for some damn reason..... the tags still don't work i rly don't know what i'm doing wrong T_T i'm posting this from a macbook is that it, is the ghost of steve jobs fucking with me rn)

[meow-xine]

hiii, this has been stuck on my head for days so i just had to write it.

word count: 1.7k words

pairing: prohero!iida x afab!reader

cw: sorry this is a lot of just smut.. no real plot

not proofread, sorrryyyy :’)

ProHero!Iida who was never one for intimacy. He was always too busy with work and running his firm, never having time to look into relationships aside from the practicality that they could bring; double incomes, continuing bloodlines. They weren’t his thing.

ProHero!Iida who’s attention was captured by you, the newest hire at the firm. Something about the way you carried yourself was so captivating to the young hero.

ProHero!Iida who found himself sneaking unnoticed glances at you when he could. Making excuses to talk to you when in the office. He figured he would wait for you to take initiative, show some interest. After all, relationships weren’t his thing.

ProHero!Iida who noticed his glances getting returned, met with a smile from your pink glossed lips. Starting more idle conversations, too distracted by the sweet notes of your perfume to speak of anything notable.

ProHero!Iida who slowly works up the courage to ask you to drinks one night, having much more of a fun and special night than he could have ever expected. The mood between the two of you at work had uplifted, being much more light for the two of you.

Drinks now becoming a common meeting place for the both of you after work or on the weekends. Iida, after many pep talks in the mirror, had now begun to muster up the courage to ask you to something more formal, more personal.

“[Name]! Good thing I caught you.” Iida spoke, catching you as you were headed toward the door. “Hm?”

“Apologies, but would you..like to go to dinner with me tonight?” He trembled just a bit.

He cut the silence that followed, thinking he may have gone too far.

“Well, I understand you had a long day actually- I’m sorry for asking so soon, it must be-”

“I would love to!” You interrupted. “That sounds very fun Iida, what time works?”

He smiled, a newfound passion filling him.

ProHero!Iida who couldn’t deny the feelings he had for you anymore, especially after your dinner. Acting like an excited teen boy, letting his desires and thoughts of you consume him deep into the night, later than he would ever think of staying up. Pants and whines filled the hero’s dark room as he palmed his length through his boxers. He felt so..dirty touching himself to his dear colleague. At the same time, he couldn’t help himself. You were the first person he had felt this way about. A heavy sigh left his parted lips as he finished into a nearby towel, still thinking about you.

ProHero!Iida who, now more than ever, wanted to be around you. You had gone on multiple dates with the broad hero, your feelings growing stronger day by day, as were his. One night though, when the two of you were getting ready to leave the restaurant Iida you had just eaten at, he invited you over.

“[Name].. There is something I have been meaning to ask you. If you are comfortable with it, would you accompany me back to my house?” He avoided eye contact and rubbed his arm nervously, expecting rejection.

You were flushed, not knowing what to expect. With how you felt about him, there was no way you could say no. So, you smiled and accepted.

ProHero!Iida who led you into his home, making sure to offer any comfort he could. Drink? Blanket? Was the light too bright? Too dark? You sat down on a couch in the main room, him following next to you.

“[Name], truth be told, I don’t know exactly how to say this.” he started, “I..when I wake up in the morning I think of you. I think of you until I walk into the firm and see you smiling, and the second you’re out of sight I cannot help but let my thoughts continue. You are so dear to me, and I’m not sure I have ever felt like this for anyone. You consume my very being, and I brought you here to tell you that I, I have feelings for you. Feelings that are too strong to hide anymore.”

You couldn’t hide your smile, feeling the same exact way as him. Not to mention how sweet and personal his confession was.

“Tenya,” You paused, searching for the right words to say, “you have no idea what those words mean to me. I would be lying if I said I had no feelings for you, and it makes me so happy to hear that you feel the same.”

ProHero!Iida who couldn’t believe the words that escaped your mouth. His breath hitched, and he found himself scooting closer to you on the couch. The two of you were now painfully close, the room filled with the slow breathing coming from you. Then he asked.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

And all at once he cupped your face and met your lips with his. It started off slow, an innocent deep peck. The kiss deepened and his hands moved from your face, snaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

He pulled away. “[Name].. please,” he spoke, keeping eye contact. “I need you. Let me have you, please.” his voice was now filled with desperation. He made his way to your lips again, then your cheeks, feathering slow kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“Tenya..” you breathed.

“Do you want me to stop?” He pulled back.

“No, keep going..please.” You whined. You knew how pathetic it sounded, but you couldn’t help the growing heat in your lower belly. You needed to feel relief.

ProHero!Iida who leads the two of you to the bedroom, laying you down. Who takes his time removing each layer of clothing, leaving small kisses in between. The sight of you under him, red and covered by nothing more than a sheer bra and matching panties.

He noticed your attempt to rub your thighs together, trying to relieve the growing pressure.

He smiled, “Let me help you.” He searched for permission in your eyes, only proceeding when you nodded yes.

He wasted no time, dipping his hand into your panties, fingers teasing at your slit. “You’re so wet [Name]..” He rubbed your slick around, finally taking one of his fingers and dipping it inside of you, curling it ever so slightly.

“F-fuck Tenya..” you cursed, embarrassed that all it took to get you hot and bothered was a single finger. He brought his other hand under your bra, prodding at the hardening bud. The combination of pleasure surging through your nerves was almost too much to handle. You already felt yourself nearing your finish. You couldn’t help but whimper under him.

He smiled, knowing he had to be doing something right, and slid another digit in. Watching your face contort as you came undone from just two of his fingers inside you. You grinded your hips down on his hand, needing that final push before you could finish. Your orgasm soon came crashing down on you.

“Oh I’m-!”

“Goooood, that’s good. Ride it out.”

He watched your body intently, noticing how your back curved as your orgasm surged through you.

Your moans were replaced with heavy breathing as he pulled his fingers out and stood up, beginning to undress. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him when he got down to just his boxers, tenting as his erection pressed almost painfully against the fabric.

And he was…big.

You too stood up and made your way over to him, first planting a kiss on his lips. Him leaning down, wrapping his muscular arms around your bare waist. Your hand travelled down, touching his erection through his boxers.

ProHero!Iida who watched your face as you pulled down his boxers, watching his throbbing cock spring up and slap his abdomen. He hissed as air hit his dick.

ProHero!Iida who wasted no time helping you remove your bra and panties, the two of you now completely bare.

You laid down, he followed, now laying next to you. “[Name].. if you don’t mind, could you follow my lead for a moment?” He asked shyly, “Of course. I trust you.”

He rolled you over on your side, his cock now pressing behind you, resting on your back.

“I’m going to enter myself now.. if you need me to stop please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

His arms locked you in place as he wrapped them around your waist tightly. Ever so slowly he put his tip in your warm entrance, moaning at the new sensation.

ProHero!Iida who was now buried deep inside you, relishing in the shape of your walls and and how perfectly they housed him. He dreamt of you, of this very experience, but you far exceeded any expectations.

ProHero!Iida who thrusted inside of you, quickening his pace gradually. Replacing the lewd wet slapping sounds with small words of praise, the position you were in making it easy for him to whisper and nibble on your ear.

ProHero!Iida who wished he could listen to nothing more but your moans and whines, see nothing more than your smaller frame unraveling with his touches.

“You’re doing so good, take it just like that..”

ProHero!Iida who makes sure you finish on his cock before he even thinks about cumming. The sweetest sounds fill his room, his ears, he wants right now to please you more than anything.

As you cum, he continues a steady pace, riding you through it. “Mhm, that’s it.” he grunts, pulling his cock out and pumping it a few times before finishing on your ass.

ProHero!Iida who rushes to draw you a bath and clean you up, preparing you a set of sleeping clothes. He bathes you, apologizing if he went overboard and still showering you with praise.

“You did so good, such a good girl for me.”

ProHero!Iida who lays down next to you, watching you until he’s sure you’re asleep. He feels he can now rest knowing you’re okay. He kisses your forehead once before nuzzling into you and falling asleep too

[sansaorgana]

— THE GIFT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You were born to be Feyd-Rautha's wife. You arrive to Giedi Prime to get adjusted to the new environment before your wedding. Your betrothed is trying to court you properly... but he only knows The Harkonnen ways of doing so.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — After a whole month of writing Thrown To The Wolves, I felt weird writing something with Feyd with a different Reader and a different plot. 🙈 But at the same time I was excited to explore a new scenario. 😄

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, death

WORD COUNT — 3,700

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE GIFT

Giedi Prime was an unfriendly place – cold and colourless, nearly lifeless as well. The people you were seeing reminded you of machines more than humans. You were terrified as you realised you’d spent the rest of your life there. The Harkonnens were even worse. Rude, harsh, not very talkative. Your future husband had looked you up and down on your first day in a way that turned your blood cold.

You missed home. You missed your family. But you knew it was impossible to ever go back. You could run away – if you somehow managed to bribe the servants to help you – but it was impossible to hide from your destiny. You had been born to be Feyd-Rautha’s wife, and most importantly, to give birth to his child.

You were a daughter of an important Lord, therefore you weren’t opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage. You knew nothing else was waiting for you in this world and no one would ever let you marry a person of your choice. But why was Feyd-Rautha your betrothed? Out of all the people in the galaxy, why did you have to be promised to a Harkonnen?

Ever since you had been a little girl, your friends had been teasing you about it. Repeating the dreadful gossip about Giedi Prime and your betrothed who had become a famous and dangerous gladiator in the meantime. And now you were finding out that the gossip was not true – reality was even worse than anything you had heard and expected of this place and of this man.

You were supposed to spend three months on Giedi Prime before your wedding, away from your home and family, to adjust to the environment and the customs. Then the wedding would take its place and you’d become the na-baroness of The Harkonnens.

On your first morning you were woken up with breakfast brought to your bed by the servants.

“Why can’t I eat with my husband’s family in the dining room?” You asked them while sitting up and resting on your pillows.

The pale and bald women looked at each other significantly. Everyone looked the same here, you felt like a freak.

“Baron Harkonnen and his nephews do not eat their meals together, unless it is a special occasion, a banquet of some sort,” one of them explained. “Everyone eats their meals in their own private chambers.”

“I see,” you nodded and sighed at the sight of the food. It was as colourless as everything around. You missed the bowls of fruit and yoghurts you had been getting on your homeplanet.

After swallowing the last bit of your breakfast, you took a shower and let your new servants dress you up. The Harkonnens had requested for you to leave all your clothes and personal belongings at home. They wanted you to be as detached from your old self as possible. You were gifted a whole wardrobe of new outfits instead. All black.

You wondered if they’d ask you to shave your head, too. You dreaded that. Your hair was like an armour you could hide under. Your servants had no idea how to manage it so they left it loose. You brushed it with your fingers since there was no brush.

When you saw yourself in the mirror you thought that on your homeplanet you’d be called a feral woman. In a black, long dress, hair unkempt and dark bags under your exhausted and empty eyes that lacked any sort of emotion.

You were supposed to have classes about The Harkonnen culture. You had been studying it since you were a little girl but they did not trust your progress and they wanted to test you in a more practical sense. Your teacher was an old man with a contemptuous smirk, a close advisor of the Baron and most likely his spy.

He had been asking you questions for the past hour to which you answered perfectly well. It was becoming difficult for him to hide his surprised facial expression.

“You’ve been trained well, my Lady,” he admitted.

“This is all that has been expected of me,” you explained with a nod, your voice was hollow and emotionless as you realised how true your words had been. Your whole personality was limited to be the future Harkonnen Baroness ever since you had been a little girl. You couldn’t possibly tell what you would be like under different circumstances. You had never been given a chance to find out.

“Very well then,” he hummed to himself. “I’d like you to roam freely around the fortress and try not to get lost. Tomorrow during our class you will ask me questions about the things and places that made you curious,” he informed you and bowed down before leaving the room.

You looked around, expecting someone to fetch you but no one was coming. He had to actually mean that you were allowed to roam freely around the fortress. Carefully, you left the room and chose to turn right. You had arrived from the left side of the corridor so you were naturally more curious about the right side and exploring a brand new territory.

You were too scared to try to push any doors, though. You didn’t want to walk in on things that would possibly make someone beheading you for seeing. The occasional guards passing you by were looking at you suspiciously but they were not saying anything. After a while you stopped seeing them at all and realised you were in a dark maze of endless corridors that you had no idea how to get out of.

Trying to go back, you only ended up getting lost even further as you were going deeper and deeper into the maze. Your heart started to pound in your chest and your hands began to shake as they turned cold. The corridor was cold in general – much colder than the rest of the fortress. And it was terrifyingly empty.

You decided to stay in one place and wait. Someone had to eventually look for you, right? You hoped for it to be true. Trying to hug your own self for warmth and comfort, you rested your back on the cold, grey wall, taking deep breaths in. 

Suddenly, a loud and animalistic cry emerged from behind one of the black doors. You were startled by it and your body began to tremble even more. You wanted to get away as far as possible from that door but when you were about to turn around and run, they opened and your heart squeezed in your chest.

To your surprise, it was your betrothed leaving the mysterious room. He was wearing gladiator attire and holding a blade in his hand with blood still dripping. His eyes widened at the sight of you and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in his deep and raspy voice.

“I… I got lost, I’m sorry. I’ve been told to roam freely around the fortress and explore on my own but I got lost…” You explained as you shivered.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly like predators approach their prey. You took a step back and felt the wall behind you. You were trapped.

“Lost, you’re saying?” He smirked as he hovered over you. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that he just had to hear it. He rested one of his hands on the wall above your head and leaned in even closer. “You’ve accidentally gone underground where I train on my slaves,” he smiled almost playfully, showing off his black stained teeth.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to..” You gasped but he shushed you with a soft hiss.

“Did I say it was forbidden?” He asked and you shook your head. “Come, I’ll show you,” Feyd straightened himself and reached out his hand towards you as if he was a proper gentleman.

Everything inside you was screaming to run away and to not follow him anywhere. But you were aware that he would catch you in a second and your attempt would only most likely enrage him. And very soon you would belong to him anyway. You would be his property whether you wanted it or not.

You held his hand and he froze at the feeling of your ice cold and shivering fingers.

“You are cold,” he pointed out. “And scared.”

“I am not scared,” you lied. You had been taught that The Harkonnens hated fear and cowardice.

“And a liar,” Feyd-Rautha sneered and led you inside the mysterious room he had previously left.

It was big and dark like every other room in that fortress. There was a dead body of a servant in gladiator gear laying on the floor in the puddle of his own blood. The walls were covered in all sorts of weapons.

“This is where I train,” Feyd announced proudly. He had to think it would impress you but it only made you sick, especially the sight of the dead man on the floor. You had never seen death in such a brutal and ugly way before. But now you were sure it was not the last time.

Feyd was visibly waiting for your response as he let go of your hand and took a step back to tilt his head and watch your expressions carefully. You realised it was a test of how much you were able to handle as his wife.

You wondered what would happen if you failed all the tests. Would they just send you back home or would they get rid of you? Were they even able to do that? You didn’t want to find out.

“It is impressive, my Lord na-baron,” you admitted with a shaky nod of your head and he winced at your words which made you furrow your brows.

“Don’t address me like a servant, pet,” he clicked his tongue and you nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the way he had called you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “How should I address you then?”

“However you like,” Feyd shrugged his arms and approached you once again, raising his bloody blade slightly as you flinched. It brought a smile to his full lips. Looking deep into your eyes, he licked the blade clean. You clenched your jaw and tried to keep a poker face on but a knot formed in your stomach at the disgusting act.

You hated to admit that he was attractive for a Harkonnen. There was a magnetic energy about him that made you attracted to him like a moth was driven to a flame. Even his harsh and unpleasant voice was leaving you wanting more.

Feyd brushed your hair with the tip of his freshly cleaned blade, carefully, making sure not to cut any strand.

“I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he looked even more intensely into your eyes.

“That would be inappropriate,” you tried to explain. “It’s not considered elegant.”

“I said, I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he repeated like he couldn’t understand why you were trying to argue. He was a spoiled na-baron and completely not used to people disobeying him. So, you just nodded this time.

“Then I will,” you promised. “If I could only get a hairbrush, though. Or a comb. So they don’t tangle,” you pleaded and he squinted his eyes at you as the tip of his blade moved to under your chin. You swallowed thickly at that gesture.

“A hairbrush or a comb,” he repeated your words. “That can be arranged,” he added and you smiled nervously at him. “What are you scared of?”

“Of the blade under my chin perhaps?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled, however his hand remained still.

“Weren’t you sent here to be my wife?” Feyd’s smile dropped in an instant. He was serious again and you took a deep breath in, tugging on the folds of your dress to hide how sweaty your hands had become.

“Yes, I was,” you nodded.

“And what do you think of that?”

“I don’t think. I have been preparing for that since I was a child,” you answered.

“I want to be a good husband,” his sudden confession made your eyes widen. In one swift move he took the blade away from you and replaced it with his hand as he held your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “My uncle says that a wife should not be an enemy. He wants me to court you properly,” he explained.

“Is your uncle experienced in marriage?” You asked, curiously. You had been taught that Baron Harkonnen had never been married.

Feyd laughed at your question as his grip on your chin tightened. He moved his face even closer to yours, your nose nearly brushed his and it made you hold your breath.

“Can you think of a woman who would not become his enemy after being forced to marry him?” He asked you and you dared to chuckle at that.

“So, I assume, I do not have to worry about you becoming like him one day?” You bit on your lower lip, realising that he indeed did not want to hurt you.

Perhaps that whole uncomfortable and threatening situation was his idea of intimacy. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“My uncle is not my role model,” he only answered and took a step back, removing his hand from your chin. “I don’t have idols.”

“What do you worship then?” You furrowed your brows.

“Blood and honour,” he answered with all seriousness. “Allow me to give you something, my pet. A gift for my bride to be,” he proposed and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to hurt his feelings by refusing.

You expected him to approach one of the walls and hand you some of the weapons. But, to your surprise, he kneeled down next to the dead body laying on the floor and he opened its chest with the sharp tip of his blade. You gagged quietly and covered your mouth with your hand, trying to look away as the metallic smell of blood hit your nostrils, leaving you nauseous.

The sound of his heavy footsteps made you look in his direction again, not wanting to offend him in any way. He was walking towards you proudly with a real human heart in his hands, blood dripping off of it on the floor, leaving a trace. With all your force you stopped yourself from squealing at the sight. No amount of training and studying The Harkonnen culture had prepared you for this.

Feyd-Rautha reached his hands out as he offered you his foul gift. He was staring at you intensely, expecting praise of some sort or admiration. However, you had none. You let the wet organ slip into your hands as you gagged once again at the sensation and a shiver went down your body. Your reaction caused Feyd to tilt his head and squint his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“You don’t like it,” he pointed out after a short while of silence and you got scared of upsetting him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just…” you started, trying to nervously explain yourself.

“You don’t like it,” he repeated, both annoyed and disappointed.

“I appreciate the gesture,” you tried to assure him. “I will keep it,” you promised.

“Why don’t you like it?” He asked once again, ignoring all your words. You sighed.

“It’s just not something I’m used to. In my homeworld, we don’t give each other human hearts,” you explained softly.

“What do you give each other?” His question was genuine and curious.

“Haven’t you studied my customs like I have been studying yours?” You asked but the answer was obvious.

“My uncle says it is not important for me to know your culture because you are here to become one of us,” Feyd explained. “The only thing I have been studying was the blade,” he added. “So, what kind of gifts do your people give?”

“Flowers,” you answered. “For example.”

“There are no flowers on Giedi Prime,” Feyd pointed out. “No seed blooms in our soil.”

“I understand,” you nodded, nervously. “I am grateful for your gift, Feyd-Rautha. I appreciate your courtship,” you assured him but your voice and hands were shaking as your face was visibly disgusted.

Someone knocked upon the doors and Feyd barked at them to come in. You turned around and saw two guards sighing out of relief at the sight of you.

“There you are, my Lady!” One of them approached you. “We’ve been searching everywhere. Let us escort you back to your chambers,” he bowed his head.

You nodded at him, relieved as well at the sight of them. You wanted nothing else than to go back to the familiar part of the fortress and to finally leave this awkward and uncomfortable situation with your betrothed.

Still holding the heart carefully in your hands, you walked out without even glancing at Feyd-Rautha. The guards took you to your chambers where the worried servants had been waiting. They gasped at the sight of your gift.

“What is it, my Lady?” One of the girls asked you.

“It’s a gift from Feyd-Rautha,” you explained as they all widened their eyes. “I have no idea what to do with it,” you admitted.

“Feyd Rautha gave it to you, my Lady?” The servant swallowed thickly and you nodded. “Do you know what it means, my Lady?”

“No,” you shook your head and handed the organ to another girl. “I desperately need to wash my hands and change my dress,” you said and disappeared into the bathroom where you spent fifteen minutes getting rid of the blood.

You took the stained dress off and threw it on the floor before walking out back to your chamber. The girls were already preparing the heart as they put it in a jar full of some odd liquid.

“It will dry in there, my Lady,” one of them explained. “Na-baron must be really enamoured with you, my Lady, or perhaps he is trying to show his best side to you.”

“Enamoured?” You snorted at her. “It’s gruesome.”

“It’s the most romantic thing a Harkonnen man can give to a woman, my Lady,” the other woman added and you gasped.

“I haven’t been taught that…” You whispered, feeling extremely stupid for the way you had treated Feyd-Rautha before. You had to anger him dearly and his rage was not something you wanted to deal with. “What is the equivalent of such a gift for a man? What can I give him in return?” You asked the servants and they looked at each other’s faces, surprised.

“There is no equivalent, my Lady,” one of them answered. “Harkonnen women do not court. Only men do.”

On the next day, when you were leaving your chambers to go to your class, you spotted the doors nearby opening and your betrothed walking out of them. Your room was in the same area as his so it was no surprise but you didn’t expect to see him at the same time in the morning. At the sight of you, he looked down and walked past you without a word, which made you feel bad for him and for the way you had treated him. But it also made you anxious because his uncle has been right about marriage. You didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to be your enemy.

Giedi Prime was far from perfect and your betrothed was an odd, psychotic creature. You couldn’t change your destiny, though, so you had to embrace it to make it bearable.

“Feyd, wait,” you rushed after him and he froze when you grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He turned around and looked at you coldly.

“I am in a hurry,” he drawled.

“So am I. But I wanted to apologise. I have been studying the Harkonnen culture for years but I have never been told of the meaning of such a gift,” you explained, feeling your cheeks getting warm. “Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to reject you.”

“The heart was of a low quality,” he admitted as his face softened slightly. “Next time I will give you the heart of a real warrior, a real enemy. Not some slave,” he added. “My uncle has already reprimanded me for that.”

You broke a smile at him. It was adorable in a way how this scary and dangerous man was following his uncle’s guide on courtship, trying to be on his best behaviour around you. It was making you feel powerful in a way.

“I would like to return the favour but my servants have informed me there is no such tradition,” you confessed. “What can I do for you to forgive me?”

Feyd-Rautha hesitated for a moment as he looked away, thinking intensely about something. Then he laid his eyes on you again and leaned in to join your lips together. You were startled at first, your heart pounded in your chest. Raised to become his wife, you had never kissed anybody before and saved yourself for him only, however it felt as if his soft lips were truly made for yours. You put your hand on his chest and opened your mouth to invite his tongue in. He devoured you, greedily wanting to explore your mouth and feast on your taste. His hands pulled you closer by your hips and you put your free hand behind his head. Seeing him for the first time in real life two days ago, you had been slightly uncomfortable at the sight of him. But now you did not feel any of that.

Even if you hadn’t been prepared to become his wife, you’d still want him. You had been born to be his.

Feyd’s hands moved up and cupped your face before breaking the kiss and moving away gently. You took a deep breath in as he stared into your eyes and caressed your loose hair.

“You’re forgiven, my pet,” he told you. “By the way, I’ve ordered a hair brush for you.”

MASTERLIST

[dollzstrology]

⋆.ೃ࿔ 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’ ᝰ Smoke stops by your shop, coming to check on you and the baby. After he’s with you for a while you realize he’s here for more than a welfare check, he interested in what’s between your thighs.

𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮… Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore

𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻… Explicit; smut + fluff, porn w/ plot, fem!reader, spiritual!reader [hoodoo], envisioned as black!reader while writing, half-canon & half non-canon, very similar to Annie x Smoke dynamic, established relationship [married couple], mom!reader & dad!smoke, pregnancy [second trimester], pregnancy sex, oral [fem!receiving], p in v, dirty talk. 1930’s time period. southern/country dialect used.

𝑫𝑼𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… 3.5k words

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑹… This is my first ‘Sinners’ fic and I’m soooo excited to be posting it! I’m already obsessed with Micheal B. Jordan but this movie made me love him 1,000 times more! All my Smoke lovers lmk how you like this fic! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺… Sinners M.List ・Sinners Taglist ・Main M.list

It’s a slow day at the shop, the perfect time for you to catch up with creating some batches of fresh herbal teas and home remedies for your customers when they come by. You have your radio humming low in the corner, keeping you company as you sing along and work, grinding some dried yarrow in your mortar and pestle.

You’re about to reach for the peppermint to add into the blend when a quiet shift in the air makes your skin prickle. You feel a presence come behind you before it can even make its way into your line of sight.

Your hand slips to the straight razor beside your tray and you spin around, steel flashing in the light, holding it right under their chin. “Elijah…” you say slowly, drawing out the vowels as if you’re warning him. “How many times I done told you ‘bout sneakin’ up on me while I’m workin’?”

“Put that blade up, woman, ‘fore you nick me.” Smoke replies with his gold tooth gleaming in the sunlight, unfazed by the weapon at his throat, knowing you would never actually harm him, plus it’s not the first time you’ve had a razor blade to his neck. “I jus’ came to love on you a lil’ bit.”

You stare at him a second longer, eyes narrowed, then you huff through your nose and lower the blade onto the table. You set it down with a little clatter and let him gather you up in his arms. His hands cradle your small belly bump, lips pressing gently against yours. “You always sneakin’ around. One day I’ma really cut your ass.” You mumble in between kisses while still embracing his love, spewing out out a threat you know will just end up being empty.

“And you still gon' love me, jus’ like I love you with that fire in yo’ mouth.” He replies, referring to your slick tongue and the feistiness within you that’s always making an appearance. Before you know it he’s kissing you slow and tender, like he don't plan on leaving anytime soon.

You lean into it, breathing in his scent: woodsmoke, Irish beer, and gunpowder. You rest your hand on his chest, right over his heart, giving him one last kiss before pulling back. “What you doin’ here in the middle of the day? Thought you and Stack was gettin’ the juke ready for tonight.”

“We are. I just… wanted to check on you. And the baby.”

“We alright.” You say with a smile, loving how he’s become even more attentive since you told him you were in the family way. “She movin’ more lately. Likes when I sing to her in the mornin’.”

“She? You still holdin’ onto that?” Despite you having all the hoodoo abilities to tap into the spiritual and supernatural realm, your husband swears he knows the gender of the baby. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s a boy. Gon’ be just like his old man.”

“Lord, I pray that ain’t true.” You tease, laughing while walking over to where your candles are, grabbing a match and lighting the wick. Having to deal with Smoke and Stack everyday, trying to keep them safe, and make sure they stay out of trouble is enough to worry about, you can’t imagine having to deal with that times three.

While your husband watches you light a candle, his eyes wander to all the things surrounding you; herbs, mojo bags prepped like the one he has around his neck, and other things you use as a hoodoo practitioner, makes a frown appear on his lips. “I don’t like you doin’ all this magic shit while you carryin’. You don’t know what kinda spirits you callin’.”

Smoke’s never been able to grasp the in and outs of hoodoo, he’s never been the type of man to believe in things like that but it doesn’t stop him from supporting you and taking your word on everything because he believes in you. He’s always been fine with it and never interfered with your work but now that you’re carrying his child he’s concerned.

“I been doin’ this since before you even knew my name.” you calmly reply, understanding his point of view but wanting to reassure him everything is fine and the baby isn’t in harm's way. “I was born into this. My momma did it carryin’ me, and her momma ‘fore her. You know I don’t call nothin’ dark in here.”

“I know. But still, it makes me nervous.” He finds his way behind you again, wrapping his arms around your mid section, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. “You my whole heart and this lil’ baby too. I don’t want nun bad happenin’ to y’all.”

You lean into his embrace, letting his warmth wash over you like a river. You close your eyes a moment, feeling a sense of peace settle in your bones from his presence. “I’ll be alright. We both will.” You place your hand over his, gently rubbing your thumb against his skin. “I promise.”

Smoke turns you in his arms, kissing you deeper than he did earlier, this interaction feeling more fueled by lust than love. You feel the pull of him, the same pull that causes you to gravitate towards him when his body is calling for you.

Things with Smoke are always easy, you and him have the type of chemistry where certain things don’t have to be explained, like you and him don’t have to discuss how he yearns for you, how just you touching him makes him feel like he’s about to crumble. You’ve always been his safe place so when he comes to you needing comfort, to blow off steam, or some sweet lovin’, you’re always happily ready to provide.

Without breaking the kiss he takes off his jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor before gently lifting you onto your work table, sweeping some of your jars to the side so they won’t get damaged. Your hands are already at the buttons of his shirt, and his mouth trails down your throat, his tongue swirling over the place where your pulse beats strong.

The ceiling fan above spins lazy circles above the two of you but it doesn’t cut down on the Mississippi heat or the fire burning between you and him. Smoke’s palms slide up your thighs, rough and warm, pushing your flowly dress up bunch by bunch ‘til he’s gets you exposed, your panties already damp from the way he's been touching you.

“You wet f’me already, mama?” he hums low, his thick fingers pressing against the wet cotton, a smug expression comes across his face that’s filled with pride. You bite your lip, nodding as he hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them down your legs, letting them fall to your ankles before taking them off.

“Always wet for you, ‘lijah,” you whisper, voice breathy and thick with need for what lies beneath his waist. “You know that.” He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, the only person on Earth who’s allowed to say his birth name, the only one who says it so sweetly it makes him want to hear it again and again.

He drops to his knees, kissing the inside of your thighs like he’s praying at an altar. The farther he moves up your body, slowly making his way to your sweet sweet center, you can feel your heart pounding with anticipation. Once he’s done teasing, his mouth meets your core, warm and wet, tongue parting your slit nice and slow, allowing your delicious taste to settle on his tongue before he starts to really ravish you.

You gasp when the warmth from his mouth comes in contact with your pussy, trying to control yourself before shoving his head deeper between your legs. His tongue gives your folds the most attention in the beginning, repeatedly moving up and down, giving you a nice warm up before he turns things up a notch.

Smoke’s starts giving your clit some love, the tip of his tongue gently grazing over it before applying pressure, causing your hips buck instantly and him to groan into your heat, making you moan from the vibrations. The more he eats your pussy, smearing your slick across his face, and him angling his mouth and sucking your clit so well it feels like your spirit is levitating, edges you closer and closer to releasing all over his face. “Mhm! Smoke, right there!”

If you could see the look on this man’s face there would definitely be a smirk across his lips, hearing those words from you, spoken in that needy tone you use when he’s hitting all those right spots, makes his dick rock solid. Of course with him being a gentleman ‘n all, his first priority is making sure his wife is taking care of, so he’s gonna make sure you get one off before he does… but not without making you work for it first.

Your fingers thread through his coarse hair, hips rolling up into his face to create more friction and help you chase your high faster. The moans that fall from your lips aren’t as soft as they were earlier. They’re raw, hungry, each one more whiny than the next. You can feel that pressure in your stomach beginning to build up and when you feel his fingers protruding the entrance of your pussy, you already know you’ll be cumming in a couple minutes or less.

When that feeling starts growing stronger and intense, about to take over your body and allow you that sweet release, Smoke pulls back making you glare at him as if he has two heads. “I know you ain’t gonna jus’—”

Smoke give you the smallest smirk as he stands up, licking your juices off his lips, already knowing how you’re about to finish that sentence. “I ain’t, baby. I jus’ wanna feel you wrapped ‘round me when I make you cum.” He undoes his belt, slow and deliberate, his predatory gaze looking at your body. You watch as he frees himself from his slacks, thick and undeniably hard, the sight alone making your mouth fill with saliva, wanting him to just fill you up already.

He helps you get off the table, lifting you by your waist and gently placing you on the ground. Once your feet hit the wooden floor he’s barking out orders. “Turn ‘round and put them hands on the table.” You obey without question, leaning forward and angling your ass in the air.

Once you're in position Smoke comes up behind you, pushing your dress up until it’s past your hips, giving him a full view of your ass that he’s practically obsessed with. He takes a moment to take in the sight in front of him, your pretty ass on display, your juices slowly dripping down your thighs, and your hole clenching around nothing, begging to be stuffed.

Your husband bites his lip, his dick twitching against his thigh in anticipation of what’s to come once he wrapped around your velvety walls. He gives himself a few strokes before gliding his dick across your folds, allowing your slick to gather on his tip and mix with his precum, using the fluids as a lubricant. He grounds himself in his stance and places himself at your entrance, slowly pressing himself inside you, stretching you wide open with his girth.

When he enters your wetness, a groan slips through his bared teeth, his hands wrapping around your full hips as he lowers his eyes and watches his dick begin to disappear into your heat. Even though you’ve had sex with Smoke a million times, every time he fucks you it somehow feels the first time. A sound flies out your mouth, something that’s a mixture of moan and cry when you feel him stretching you out every time he pushes another inch of himself inside you.

You’re not in pain, it’s just the delicious burn that comes with being with a man that’s well endowed. Your hands begin to grip the end of the table, needing to balance the pressure you’re feeling in your lower region. “I got you, baby. Jus’ relax.” Smoke whispers while placing a few soft kisses on your back, reassuring that he has everything under control.

Feeling his lips press against your skin makes you clench around him, so tight that he lets out sharp breath, trying to keep himself from busting on the spot. He's not even fully inside you yet and he’s already teetering on the edge of having his own orgasm. He allows both of your bodies to adjust, for both of you to become one flesh, slowly nudging his dick further and further into your pussy until he bottoms out.

After a few moments his pelvis is flush with your ass and he just holds there, waiting until you’re ready. Once you relax and he feels your body loosen up, he takes that as a green light to continue and start applying some real pressure. He slowly slides out, pulling out almost halfway before rolling his hips and pressing back into you, beginning a series of long strokes into your pussy.

Your mouth flies open, moans filling your small shop as Smoke thrusts into you with no plan on stopping anytime soon. He angles himself slightly upward, giving himself the perfect position to continually hit your g-spot until you cum around him. At this point you and him are both dripping in sweat, droplets traveling down your face and towards the spillage of your breasts and his trickling down his chest and torso.

You decide to not let your husband have all the fun and start throwing it back against him, meeting him in the middle of each thrust, creating an echo of your skin slapping together. Smoke groans, loving the sound of your skin colliding each time he pushes himself deeper inside you. “Pussy feels so good, baby. Makes me wanna get yo' ass pregnant all over again.” He mutters before throwing his head back.

Ever since you’ve become pregnant Smoke swears your pussy has become even better, which he didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re more sensitive now, that you’ve been able to become so wet to the point he sometimes slips out, or your body is just preparing for the baby but either way he loves it.

“You talkin’ like I ain’t already carryin’ your baby.” you manage to pant between moans, lips curling up into a soft grin. “Lemme get this baby out first before we talk about another one.”

Smoke chuckles low, a sound that doesn’t come from him too often but when he’s around you it easily emerges. “Can’t help it.” he murmurs, breath hot on your skin. “You so damn good to me. Make me wanna keep you knocked up, full a’me all the time.”

He punctuates his words with a deep roll of his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes. Your fingers curl around the edge of the table, knuckles white as you brace yourself against the slow, deliberate strokes that are unraveling you, thread by aching thread.

The scent of yarrow, rose, and the musk of your joined bodies hangs heavy in the air, brewing in the humid Mississippi heat. You feel like a woman possessed, bent and spread in the middle of your sacred space, lost in the kind of pleasure that only Smoke can provide.

It doesn’t take long before Smoke starts going harder and faster, his thrusts becoming relentless as tears of pleasure stream down your face. His pelvis slams against your backside with every stroke, the table rocking from your tight grip and his rough movements, causing a few jars of herbs to fall on the floor but you’re too fucked out to care. You cry out each time he hits the spot that makes your knees weak, your nails scratching at the wood while his balls slap against you.

“Say my name, baby.” he pants, giving your ass a nice hard love tap before his hand return to your hips. “Tell the whole Delta who fuckin’ you this good.”

Your breath catches, your body trembling with the raw fire he’s stroking inside you. You bite your lip, eyes squeezing shut as the waves of pleasure crash over you. “You fuckin’ me so good, Elijah.” Your voice trembling as the words spew out your mouth. “Can’t nobody fuck me like you can.”

He growls your name back, deep and full of hunger, sends a shiver straight down your spine. His hands dig into your hips harder, pulling you flush against him, every thrust driving deeper, more urgent. “You my woman.” he snarls low, voice rough like thunder, his possessive ways making an appearance. “Ain’t no woman on this earth meant for me but you.”

His words break through all your control and with a cry, your body collapses against his, your muscles convulsing in waves as you fall apart, every nerve ending going up in flames, breathes coming in sharp gasps as you let go. His name spills from your lips again and again, one of Smoke’s many weaknesses when it comes to you.

Smoke grunts as he continues to thrust inside you, repeatedly brushing against your g-spot until you quiver tightly around him again, your walls rapidly pulsing around his shaft. Your orgasm rips through you and a loud whine fills the air, your legs beginning to shake and your balance falter, causing your husband to tighten his grip around you so you won’t collapse on the hard wooden floor.

Soon after you Smoke’s body succumbs to its own pleasures, his orgasm washing over him as he releases his hot seed deep inside your walls, the thick sticky fluid reaching the depths of your womb, his body shuddering until his high levels out.

Smoke exhales a deep, satisfied groan as he gently pulls out of you, careful not to move too fast, not wanting to overstimulate you. Your body jerks slightly, a soft whimper slipping from your lips at the sudden emptiness. He leans down immediately, pressing a line of kisses along your spine like an apology, his strong hands gliding up your sides with a gentleness that replaces how rough he was just being.

“You okay, baby? I ain’t hurt you, did I?” he murmurs, voice low as always, but sweet, filled with a certain softness that only you are allowed to hear. He’s usually not rough with you, he hasn’t been since you’ve become pregnant but he’s been wound up, things with Club Juke and business deals, he needed this as an outlet for his issues but now that his brain fog has cleared he wants to make sure you’re alright because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever hurt you.

You shake your head, resting your forehead against the table, lips parting with a small, breathless laugh, still trying to regulate your breathing. “You ain’t hurt me, ‘lijah. I’m doing good, real good.” you whisper, eyelids heavy, wanting to just go home and soak in the tub. “But I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk right for a while.”

He chuckles at that, one that’s filled with satisfaction of his previous actions, that he once again fucked you ‘till you can barely walk. “Lemme help you out then.” Smoke easing you up into his arms, bridal style, like you don’t weigh a thing and placing you into the chair in the corner of your shop. He grabs a clean towel from the hook near the window and dampens it with some fresh water before he starts cleaning you up, making sure he's as gentle as possible.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to the curve of your belly, whispering something low to the baby that makes you melt all over again. Smoke pulls up a stool and sits beside you, pulling you close until your head rests against his chest. “Think we scared off the spirits in here.” you mumble, giggling softly, knowing that your ancestors probably wouldn’t approve of you having relations on sacred ground.

Smoke chuckles at that, his hand stroking lazily over your thigh. “Well, they need to let grown folks do what they s’pose to do. Don’t need them watchin’ us no way.”

You hum softly, nuzzling closer, feeling his lips press against your temple and his hand making its way to your belly for the millionth time today, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your warm skin. “Gon’ be a good daddy to this baby.” he adds after a beat, his voice steady now, that rare, open affection in his tone. “Better than mine ever was.”

You lift your head just enough to meet his brown orbs, looking up at him with pure love in your eyes. “I know you will. You already are.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the wind brushing against the shutters, the faint creak of the old ceiling fan above, and the gentle rhythm of your breathing syncing with his. “I love you, Elijah.”

“Love you too, mama. Always.”

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 — @Yungblud423 @nostlicions @loveabledovee @secretisme4 @pinkkycherrish @bl3ssyn @shamansha @queenofklonnie22 @rios-st4rs @Secretlifeofpreshap @bxrbie1 @t-wylia @bendoverboo18 @milesf4vg1rl @secret89sblog @gabbysbl0gg

— all rights reserved ©𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐙𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost repost on other platforms (ex. AO3 or Wattpad) nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[sceletaflores]

KILLING ME ANY WAY BUT SOFTLY...

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｡𖦹°‧￫ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader x Tommy Miller

｡𖦹°‧￫ WC: 5.5k

｡𖦹°‧￫ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, DDDNE W/ NON-CON & DUB-CON THEMES, no outbreak au, some pov switching, smoking, drinking, large age gap, unspecified but still brought up, joel and tommy are NOT good men, drugging, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex (f/m!receiving), nat writing a blowjob scene? the world must be ending, dacryphilia, more finger sucking (i can't stop…), p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, biting, blood, pain kink, creampie, mentions of prior assault, it's just super gross and super perverted yk, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡𖦹°‧￫ NAT’S NOTE: i thought of this like halfway through my frankie fic but i was good and didn't start it until i was finished writing. be very proud of me because that never happens...anyway i've never written a dark fic before so this was very interesting slash fun in like the most morbid way possible. this was also partially inspired by angel @pedgito! PLAYTHING altered my brain chemistry so badly that i needed to partake in the depravity or i would die, like it was medical. everyone go read it and shower her with so much praise and love! once again please please please heed the tags and take your own personal triggers into account before reading. hope y'all love it, mwah!

dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics! special shoutout to @iamasaddie for the icons!

you spend a night with the miller brothers…

You're too pretty to be at a place like this. Too soft. Too young.

That's what Joel Miller thinks the second he sees you.

All done up in short little cutoffs, sipping at something fruity and colorful out of a sweaty glass. Your legs are crossed neatly in front of you like you’re pretending to be grown, pretty white teeth idly chewing on the plastic straw as your eyes bounce around the room curiously.

This bar is too old, too dirty, too mean. The kind of place with dark, sticky floors and crude words carved into the tabletops. Joel’s probably been coming here since before you were born, since before you could walk, talk. 

You’re the youngest in the room by well over a decade—and that’s not lost on anyone. Not on the bartender who checked your ID twice, not on the group of bikers throwing dirty leers your way from the pool table, and sure as hell not on the two men at each end of the bar.

Tommy would call you jailbait, all dewy cheeks and big dumb eyes. Joel clocks you as one of those college girls from the next town over, still clinging onto that teenage naivety and misplaced hope that the real world won’t chew you up and spit you out a mangled mess.

The kind of girl who lies about her age to older men because the attention makes her feel special. The kind who doesn't even realize she’s being hunted until it’s too late.

You're still sweet, Joel thinks. Sweet and soft and stupid.

And he’s right, he always is.

You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.

But Joel? Joel knows exactly what he’s doing.

He catches Tommy’s eye from across the way, jerks his head in your direction discreetly. Tommy follows his eyeline, his face sparking with interest at the look of you. Hungry eyes rake over the expanse of your body with all the subtlety of a shotgun blast, lingering on the soft swell of your breasts through that flimsy top and the bare skin of your thighs.

Tommy cuts his eyes back to Joel after a good long look, brows raised in obvious approval. He nods once, a winner, before his gaze wanders back to you and he’s shifting impatiently in his seat. A moth to a flame.

Joel huffs over the rim of his glass, unamused. He should’ve figured, they haven’t found one as pretty as you in a while. His brother’s bound to get a little rowdy, a little eager.

Out of the two of them, Tommy’s always been the more excitable one. That’s why it’s Joel’s job to set the bait. Tommy’s certainly prettier than Joel, he’s got a safer look to him. He’s just too damn trigger happy, comes on too strong too quick. It can raise red flags.

Joel’s better at playing it down, at taking it slow. He can butter girls like you up and still feign just the right amount of disinterest to keep them wanting his attention. He can tell you’re one of those types, one that’ll preen under anything he gives you. You want someone like him to come over and fawn over you.

You want to feel mature. Powerful. Sexy.

You’re practically begging to be used. He sees it in the way your thighs squeeze together, in the way your glossy lips leave smudges along the rim of your glass.

Joel smiles to himself. 

If you only knew.

Joel waits until you finish off your second drink. He sips at his whiskey and watches the way your tongue swipes along your bottom lip to chase a drop of syrupy liquid. You’re tipsy now, giggling at something the bartender says, the dazed glow of your eyes giving away just how sweetly warm you feel.

You’re still in your right mind, not drunk enough to be sloppy, not yet. That’s how he wants you—pliable, loose, thinking you’re the one still in control. 

He downs the rest of his drink in one go, the familiar burn coating his throat and settling in his chest as he slides off his stool. It takes nothing to make his way over, a few long strides and he’s leaning up next to you. Not too close, just close enough to smell the perfume you’re wearing—something bright and sugary that has his cock stirring behind his fly.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in a place like this, sweetheart?” he asks, voice as deep as molasses and twice as slow, Southern charm oozing from every word.

You turn, blinking up at him, pupils a little too blown to be from two drinks alone. It makes him grin. You’re sensitive, easy. This might be a hell of a lot simpler than he thought.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you chirp, voice sugarcoated, a little too bold for your own good. “A place like this seems kinda…grungy for someone wearing flannel.”

That bright little smile of yours is like a hook in the roof of his mouth, tugging something dark and mean loose behind his teeth.

Joel chuckles low in his chest. “You sayin’ I look outta place?”

You shrug, all coy-like, swirling the last few sips of your drink. “A little.”

Joel leans in then, just enough for it to mean something. His eyes pin you down like a thumb over the belly of a butterfly, giving you a little once over that has your breath hitching. Your lips part, showing off the teasing pink of your tongue. Joel thinks about pushing into that sweet little mouth, getting that gloss all messy on his cock. 

“Maybe I was waitin’ on somethin’ worth comin’ out for,” he says, voice gone low and smoky.

You giggle, that tipsy, flirtatious little sound. You don’t notice the way Joel signals the bartender with two fingers and a single nod. He already knows what he’s ordering—something that’ll go down smooth but hit you fast. A new drink is slid in front of you before you can blink, warm amber liquid swirling in a clear tumbler.

You look confused. “I didn’t—”

“On me,” Joel says, voice slick. “Try it.”

You hesitate for just a second before bringing it to your lips, eager to please. Eager to prove you can keep up. You make a face when the smell hits you, strong and punchy. Joel just grins, already amused by the way you wrinkle your nose like it’s cute to be difficult.

“C’mon now, can’t drink that sweet shit all night,” he drawls, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “Gotta learn how to hold your liquor, baby.”

You giggle again, your fingers dainty around the tumbler as you mimic his movement. He watches you sip and watches your throat bob as you swallow. Watches the little wince, the tremble in your lips as it hits your system.

“Good girl.” Joel smiles around the rim of his own drink, eyes wandering over to where Tommy was sitting. He’s long gone now, a few bills shoved under the empty glass sitting on the bartop.

Joel turns back to you, clueless and sipping slowly at your whiskey. He drops his hand from the bar, lets his fingers brush against the soft skin of your thigh. You don’t flinch, hardly even bat an eye. You just smile up at him, lashes low and lazy against your cheeks, body heat rising with the alcohol laced through your bloodstream.

Your thigh twitches under his knuckles, but you don’t move away. If anything, you lean in a little, nudging your shoulder against his arm. Your shirt slips down a few inches, showing off the lacy trim of your bra snug over your breasts. Joel sets his drink down, tongue sweeping over his bottom lip at the sight.

“You always this friendly with strangers?” he murmurs, voice quiet enough that only you can hear it, eyes dragging up to your face.

Your lips part again, catching the low bar light. “Only when they’re buying my drinks.”

Joel laughs—deep, rich with something secret. 

And he orders another round.

It takes almost nothing for Joel to get you off your stool and obediently following him out of the bar. A few sweet words and lingering touches is all you needed, liquor clouding your good judgement when you agree to come home with him.

It’s still warm, even with the sun long gone and the moon casting a white shine over the two of you. Crickets sing in the grass as you walk together, Joel’s hand splayed out across the small of your back, thumb slipped up under the hem of your shirt to rub soft circles over the notches of your spine as he gently steers you towards his truck.

The drive to his house isn’t long, a little less than ten minutes. Joel’s knee bounces impatiently as he watches the road, window rolled down so he can flick the ash of his cigarette out. It gives him something to do with his hands, something to chew on before he can get at what he really wants.

You’re sitting pretty in the passenger seat, giddy as you swipe even more sticky gloss on in the truck mirror, asking dumb questions like “Is that your guitar in the back?” and “You live all the way out here?” 

Joel grins around the filter and exhales slow, smoke curling through the cab like a warning.  “Mhm. I like it quiet.”

You laugh, all honeyed sunshine, no idea that you’re being carted out into the woods like a lamb prepped for slaughter.

His house is tucked back further in the trees, down a road so far out it turns from asphalt to dirt. Not a neighbor in sight, nothing but grass and dark skies for miles. The porch light is already on when he pulls in, gravel crunching under his tires loud in the quiet. Another truck takes up the space next to his, red with the paint peeling like a nasty sunburn.

You peer up at the place with shiny, awed eyes like you’re some damn princess and this is your castle. It makes him want to ruin you even more.

The truck’s barely in park before Joel’s out and striding over to your side, opening the door for you to keep up his Southern gentleman act. You thank him with a bold little kiss on the cheek before making your way to the door. Joel rubs at the sticky mark you left behind with his thumb, flicking the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

He tosses the keys on the counter after you step inside, booted feet dragging heavy across the floor as he watches you wander around, fingers trailing over worn furniture and sun-bleached curtains. It’s not much, but you look impressed anyway.

“Cute,” you hum, bending over to peek down the hallway. He can see the way your shorts ride up the curve of your ass, lace peeking out just like before. Your turn to him, arms crossed behind your back as you sway on the balls of your feet. “This isn’t the part where you murder me, right?”

It’s light, teasing. An innocent joke.

Joel’s smile is tight as he walks to the kitchen. “Not unless you ask me real nice.”

You laugh again, that breathy little sound, and Joel listens for the faintest edge of unease. He’s gotten good at that—spotting the cracks before they show, gauging how much of a fight this might be.

You’ve been good since the bar, and Joel hopes it stays that way. He wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face because you tried acting out.

Joel busies himself in the kitchen, back turned as he opens a cabinet and pulls out a couple glasses. He grabs some things out of the fridge, well aware that you can’t see the little silver tin hiding in his armful of honey and bourbon.

“You like it sweet, right?” he calls over his shoulder, masking the rasp in his voice. “Figured you’d need a chaser after that whiskey.”

“Aw,” you say from your spot on his couch, clearly drunk on attention, “you’re taking such good care of me.”

Joel laughs as he rounds the corner, handing you a glass. “Only fair, since you’re bein’ so good for me.”

“I’m already in your house, Joel. You don’t need to lay it on so thick anymore.” You take the drink with a smile, clinking it against his own before bringing it to your lips.

He watches the slow press of your lips to the rim, the way your throat moves when you swallow, how you down half the glass in one long pull. It has him shifting in place, his cock straining against the rough denim of his jeans. He sets his glass down on the coffee table, untouched, and leans back against the cushions. 

You turn to him, your gaze languidly roaming over his body. Over where his shirt is stretched tight across his chest, where his arms rest on the back of the couch, where his legs are spread wide. Your eyes are hungry, pupils blown wide and dark as midnight.

Joel lets you look, waits until you make it back up to his eyes to jerk his head in an obvious invitation. “C’mere, baby.”

You bite your lip, setting your glass down next to his and crawling over to him without another word. Your arms loop around his neck, knees on either side of him as you settle in his lap. His hands fall to your hips, thumbs sliding up and down the waistband of your cutoffs.

Your lips part under his like they were made to, your soft sigh swallowed up by the hot press of his mouth. He kisses you hard, slow and deep, like he’s been starving for it. You taste like lemon and honey, the sharp bite of his bourbon buried somewhere beneath all the sweetness.

Joel’s hands tighten on your hips, dragging you closer as he nips at your plush bottom lip. “Feels good, doesn't it, sugar?”

You nod, moaning as you bury your hands in his hair. Your lips part easily for his tongue, letting him claim your mouth. Joel groans, pressing the hard line of his cock over your clothed cunt, chuckling darkly at the high whine you breathe into the space between you both.

He lets you have your fun, necks with you on his couch like a couple of horny teenagers while he waits. 

Sure enough, after a while, he can feel the first few signs trickling in. Your grip on his hair goes slack, your lips grow lazy and slow against his own, your posture slips into something more relaxed and hunched over, leaning on him heavily.

Joel pulls back, a single strand of spit connecting your lips before it dips and breaks under the weight of gravity. You’re panting, mouth slick and swollen as your chest heaves with every breath. Your chin is red and raw, scratched up from his beard. 

It takes a second for you to open your eyes, blinking at him sluggishly. You look nice and fucked, pupils so big he can hardly see the color around them anymore, glassy and unfocused in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol filling up the half empty glass on his coffee table.

“Joel…” It’s hardly a whisper, so soft and breathy. “Feels funny…tired…”

“Poor thing,” he tuts, squeezing your hips once. “Let’s get you on your back.”

You go easy enough, let him push your shoulders down until you’re splayed out across the couch. Your eyes slip shut again, your breath evening out as it finally sinks its claws in you.

Joel grins, wastes no time before he’s on his feet and sliding his arms under you. You don’t make a sound as he lifts you, your body completely pliant, head lolling to rest on his chest.

He starts down the hallway to his bedroom, the light on and bleeding through the bottom of the door to shine dimly over the carpet.

And like a ship being led safely to port by the fiery orange glow of an old light house, Joel walks, and he whistles as he goes.

You feel like you're floating, mind groggy and filled with the cloudy haze of sleep. The bourbon must have hit you harder than you thought.

The air is cold but your skin is so warm. Your limbs are heavy when you try to move, like you’re suspended in a thick, syrupy water.

Your fingers twitch against something soft. Sheets. You’re in a bed now. That much registers. You can feel the give of the mattress beneath you, the press of a pillow behind your head, the way your legs are bare.

Were you wearing shorts earlier?

Were you?

You pry your eyes open, barely having enough energy to. The world is warped, stretched at the edges like a funhouse mirror. Your vision swims, and all you can make out is light—the orange cast of a bedside lamp. The bulb buzzes faintly in your ear, the sound low and persistent, like it’s drilling into your brain.

That’s when you feel it, featherlight pressure making its way down your bare stomach. It’s soft, almost ticklish.

It takes your mind a few long seconds to catch up, to realize what’s happening.

There are hands on your body.

A slow, possessive drag over your thigh. Calloused fingers part your legs, thumb dipping just beneath the hem of your panties. You try to shift, try to close your legs, but you barely twitch.

You stir, a soft sound pushing out of your parted lips as you grip the sheets harder than before. 

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs, pressing wet kisses down your neck. “You were beggin’ for it all night, remember?”

Joel. 

It comes flooding back to you in stages. The bar. The whiskey. The truck. 

It goes fuzzy after that, you can’t remember anything past sliding onto Joel’s lap. 

You whimper, body moving sluggishly under him. You try to twist away but it’s useless—he’s strong, and you’re dizzy and weak and pinned.

“You said I could fuck you,” he whispers, calloused fingers rubbing slow circles over your clit. “Said you wanted it bad. Don’t back out now, sweetheart. That’d be real mean.”

You sob, but your body betrays you—hips rocking forward against his hand, chasing the teasing pressure of his touch. Your eyes screw shut, tears burning hot and wet in your waterline. 

Joel hums, fingers spreading you open like he’s flipping through pages of a well-loved book. “Look at you,” he mutters, voice thick with want. “Fuckin’ leaking through these sweet little panties. This sweet pussy’s just beggin’ to be filled.”

You don’t hear the footsteps at first.

Not until the floorboards creak by the door.

A new voice filters in from somewhere far away, piercing through the cotton in your ears. It’s different from Joel’s, that same Southern twang but just a little lighter. A little smoother, like honey laced with iron.

“Thought I heard you gettin’ started without me.”

Your eyes snap open.

There’s a man in the doorway.

He’s shorter than Joel by a few inches, leaner too but just as broad in the shoulders. Another strong, blue collar looking type—a man that works with his hands.

Joel lifts his head with a lazy grin, glancing over his shoulder. “Not my fault you took your sweet fuckin’ time, Tommy.”

You try to move, try to push at Joel’s chest, but your arms are still too heavy to listen. “I don’t—” you start, but he hushes you again, thick fingers still sliding up and down the wet seam of your pussy over your panties. 

“I know, sugar,” he murmurs, all mock sympathy. “S’too much to think about, huh? Why don’t you let us help you feel instead.”

The bed dips behind you, and a new warm breath ghosts over your neck. You flinch at the sudden weight pressing beside you, and when you tilt your head, you finally see his face—Tommy, lit in the glow of the bedside lamp.

He looks at you like you’re a gift. Something precious and shiny, wrapped up just for him.

“She’s pretty,” he mutters, brushing his thumb over the sweat beading on your brow with a touch gentler than it should be. “Damn, Joel. You always know how to pick ’em.”

“Wait—” Your voice is hoarse, small and cracked. You start to sit up, but Joel stops it with a heavy hand to your chest, keeping you pinned to the mattress.

He leans in close, presses a kiss to your temple, and whispers against your skin. “Don’t be rude, babygirl. You’re gonna be real nice to my brother, ain’t you?”

Brother.

Brother.

Your stomach lurches and you’re shaking your head before you even realize it. “No,” you whisper. “No, please—”

“Easy now,” Tommy coos. His hand is warm as it strokes over your cheek. “Ain’t no need to fight. We’ll be real good to you, sugar.”

Joel leans back, peeling your panties down your legs with a reverence that would almost be sweet—if you could move. If you could say no. If you weren’t so dizzy that you can’t tell if the ache building in your core is from fear or the sick twist of arousal.

The cool air hitting your core is a shock to your system, you gasp as it nips at the skin of your thighs, slick and gleaming. Your legs twitch, trying in vain to snap shut, but Joel holds you spread open with wide palms.

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes glued to your bare pussy. His thumb runs along the seam of you, his touch slow and light. “Look at that.”

“Please,” you gasp, even as your hips twitch up off the bed. “I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” Tommy asks, dragging his lips down your neck. “Didn’t mean to make us hard? Didn’t mean to spread your legs the second Joel smiled at you all sweet? Don’t play innocent now, babydoll. You knew exactly what you were doin’, didn't you?”

“She knew good and well.” Joel says, sliding off the mattress, big hands keeping you pinned as he settles on his knees near the edge of the bed. He shoulders his way between your thighs, dipping his head down to blow cool air over the expanse of your pussy.

“So damn pretty down here,” he mutters, the edge of a smirk curling at his lips. “Bet you taste as good as you look.”

Then his mouth is on you.

He dives in with a hunger that knocks the breath from your lungs. His tongue is practiced and hot as it drags through your folds, the groan ripped from his chest as you flood his tongue is more animal than man.

The sound vibrates through you, and your spine arches off the mattress, another tear sliding hot and fast down your temple.

Tommy brushes it off your cheek, but instead of wiping it away, he licks it from his fingertip. His eyes flick down to yours, and his smile is soft. Mocking. “Aw,” he coos. “She’s cryin’ already, Joel. Thought we’d have to work harder than that.”

“She’s fuckin’ sweet,” Joel groans, nosing at you like a man starved. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, coaxing—then he seals his mouth around it and sucks. Hard.

Your hands fist the sheets beneath you so tight you can hear the distinct sounds of seams ripping under your nails. It’s an onslaught of pleasure, an attack. There’s nothing kind about the dull scrape of his teeth against your sensitive clit, but it has your thighs clenching around his head all the same.

Joel’s fingers slide into you without warning—two of them, thick and rough and curling just right as he keeps his mouth working on your clit. The stretch punches a sound from your chest, a high, keening noise that has both brothers groaning in tandem.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” Joel grits out, dragging his fingers in and out lazily. “You’re gonna milk my cock just like this, huh?”

You couldn’t answer him if you tried, pure ecstasy racking your brain in all the wrong ways—burning through your veins like kerosine—too garbled and confusing for you to even think of speaking. You can only whimper, a pathetically desperate noise that’s drowned out by Joel fucking his fingers into you impossible faster.

The sound of it is loud, the wet slap of his palm and the dirty, slick sounds of your pussy sucking him in bouncing off the walls to echo back at you mockingly. 

Your hips shift helplessly, held down by Joel’s strong forearm as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. You can feel your own slick mixing with his spit start dripping down between your legs, soaking the sheets, and he groans like he loves it, nose bumping your clit as he moans into your cunt.

Tommy’s fingers start to trace the outline of your lips, dragging down to your chin before forcing them into your mouth. You choke, gag a little, but he doesn’t flinch—just presses them deeper, twisting his wrist slowly as he watches your throat bob.

“Pretty mouth,” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your tastebuds. “Bet you give real sweet head, huh?”

You cry out around his fingers, your pussy fluttering around Joel’s tongue. Before you can think, you sink your teeth into Tommy’s thumb, hard. Hard enough that you feel the skin break under it, the unmistakable taste of iron spreading across your tongue. Maybe it’s a last ditch attempt to make him stop, maybe it’s a sick way of making him stay.

“Fuck.” Tommy groans like he’s been shot, chin dropping to his chest. His eyes go dark, something wicked swimming in the brown of his irises. His mouth slips open, soft pants falling from between his slick lips.

Joel chuckles darkly from between your legs, he raises head to catch your bleary gaze. The whole bottom half of his face is drenched, beard wet with your slick. “Biting won’t do you any good, honey. Tommy likes that shit.”

Tommy hums in agreement, low and vicious, pulling his thumb from your mouth with a soft pop. “Look what you did, darlin’,” he murmurs, holding it up for you to see, blood dripping down his skin in a thin stream of red. He drags it across your lips to smear it along them like warpaint. “So mean. That’s alright, sweet thing. Joel and I like 'em a little mean, it’s more fun to put you in your place that way.

He leans down and kisses you, soft at first, then deep—tongue sweeping over the inside of your mouth, sucking his own blood off your tongue. His fingers grip your chin hard enough to bruise as he keeps you still, mouth moving hungrily against yours until you whimper, struggling to breathe around the heat of it.

Joel still hasn’t stopped.

His fingers keep dragging against that spot deep inside you, stretching and curling until you’re clenching around him. His mouth sucks another bruise onto your thigh before pulling away with a low moan.

“She’s close,” he growls, sitting back on his haunches. “C’mon, Tommy. Let her mouth do some of the work.”

Tommy pulls back without another word, and reaches for his belt. Silver clinks softly as he undoes the flashy buckle with nimble fingers, never taking his eyes off you. He pops the button of his jeans, pulls his zipper down slowly, making sure you see every inch of it slipping open.

His cock springs free, hard and flushed an angry red at the tip. He takes it in his hand, pumping himself in the tight grip of fist—once, twice—before he’s tracing the drooling head along your lips. “Open up for me, beautiful.”

Joel chooses that moment to curl his fingers again, pressing right against the swollen spot inside of you, and your body reacts on instinct.

Your mouth falls open with a gasp, and Tommy takes the invitation, pushing inside until your lips are stretched tight around the thick head. He doesn’t ease in—he sets a rhythm fast, shallow thrusts that drag over your tongue, just enough to make you choke a little. 

Joel chuckles at the sound, giving your ass a quick swat before he’s standing. His jeans are already undone, his own cock just as hard and straining against his stomach. It’s flushed and leaking, veins bulging, too big for someone as stretched as thin and soft as you feel right now.

He takes your ankles in one hand, the other wrapped tight around the base as he drags the sticky head through your spit soaked pussy to rub it over your clit torturously slow.

You can’t even protest as he lines himself up to your clenching hole, Tommy filling your mouth so much you can only let out a broken whine around him, your legs straining in Joel’s firm grip.

Joel hushes you gently, like a lullaby. “It’s too late for all that, baby. You’re already open for me.”

And then he pushes in.

The stretch is sharp and immediate, your back arching as your walls struggle to take him. There’s no patience, no easing in—he feeds you inch after inch, his hips not stopping until they’re pressed flush to yours, his cock buried deep.

You sob, overwhelmed by the burn, the pressure, the way your body is forced to accept every bit of him.

“Christ,” Joel groans. “She’s grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice. Could stay buried in this pussy forever.”

You can feel every throb, every twitch. The way he shifts slightly just to feel you react—your body spasming around him. The rhythm he sets is savage from the start. Rough, unrelenting thrusts that slap your skin raw where his hips meet yours. 

“Shhh,” Joel soothes as you mewl, bending low to press a kiss to your cheek. “You're takin’ it. You’re takin’ me so good, baby. Feels like you were made for this cock.”

The bite of sharp teeth nip their way down to your sternum, his mouth moving along the skin of your chest, sucking until deep bruises bloom. His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting your hips off the bed as he fucks into you harder, groaning with every wet slap of skin against skin.

Tommy isn’t gentle either. He fucks your mouth with slow precision, moaning every time your throat flutters around him. One hand strokes your cheek, the other twisted in your hair, tugging hard enough to make your scalp burn.

Your eyes roll back, spit running down your chin, tears streaking your cheeks—and they moan at the sight.

Every thrust is a jolt, hips slamming into the backs of your thighs as Joel fucks you deeper, each stroke driving the breath from your lungs, his heavy balls slapping over your sensitive clit. The pace is brutal, all the more suffocating with Tommy fucking your mouth in tandem, the obscene sounds of spit and slick filling the room.

“Jesus,” Tommy laughs, breathless and mean. “She’s perfect. Fuckin’ perfect.”

Joel fucks you harder, one hand slipping around your throat to pin you in place. “Gonna pump you so full, babygirl,” he pants. “You’ll be drippin’ for days.”

You feel it building, that terrible, traitorous heat pooling deep in your belly, curling tight like a fist.

You're caught between them, nothing but a warm, wet hole for them to use—your body split open, trembling and full.

“You’re ours now, honey,” Tommy pants. “Say it.”

You can’t. You choke, mouth stuffed full, brain scrambled.

Tommy pulls out, stroking himself fast. “C’mon, sugar,” he murmurs. “Tell us. Tell us you’re ours.”

Joel hammers into you, hand on your belly to press down and feel the outline of his cock. “Say it.”

You sob, the words tumbling out broken and wrecked. “Yours. I’m—fuck—I’m yours.”

Joel groans loud, hips slamming forward one last time as he spills inside you, hot and thick. You feel it fill you, warm and endless, leaking out around his cock.

Tommy’s not far behind, fisting his cock roughly until hot spurts of come stripe across your cheeks, your lips, your tongue. He lets out a ragged groan, hand still tight in your hair.

It’s too much, the dual sensations finally snapping the fragile rubber band of sanity that held you together. You shatter—mind blanking out under the weight of it all, pleasure and pain entwined so tightly there’s no telling one from the other.

Both men stay still for a long while after they’re done, suspended in the aftermath.

Tommy’s hunched over you, chest heaving as he rubs his come into your skin like a filthy sacrament. His voice is wrecked, as soft as you’ve heard it all night. “Pretty girl.”

Joel doesn’t move off your spent body, his softening cock twitching in your abused pussy as he presses his face into your sweaty throat, breathing hard.

Then he leans back, watches his cum slowly drip from your abused cunt. “You took us so good, babygirl.”

Tommy brushes your cheek with the back of his knuckles, gaze soft again. “Think she’s got one more in her?”

Joel chuckles darkly. “Only one way to find out.”

MINI NAT'S NOTE: it's literally seven in the morning. i'm posting this and then i'm passing the fuck out. thank you to chronic insomnia but mainly to my geek bar and addison rae's new song drop for giving me the energy to power through this. also ofc thank you to baby @ebodebo (cause she was mad i wasn’t going to mention her and threatened to hit me...someone save me...call 911…) for listening to me complain about this and not telling me to shut up even though i probably deserved it. most of all, thank YOU so much for reading! love you, mwah <3

[ham-st4r]

90 DAYS OF PLEASURE - L. HS

PAIRING: HEESEUNG + FEM READER!

WARNINGS: smut, quickies, public sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, ear licking, cum eating, hate-ish sex, cursing, teasing, lots of jealousy, angst, fluff, oral, dirty talk, spitting, swallowing, fingering, toe sucking, alcohol, arguments, Heeseung, because his attitude in this fic is a warning in itself 💀 mans is a lil obsessed and delusional filler characters, yeonjun, jeongin, sunghoon, jay, jake, yeji, karina.

GENRE: 18+, smut, enemies to?

SUMMARY: You were excited to move to your childhood bestfriend's neighborhood after being separated for years. You couldn’t wait to catch up and meet her large group of friends and attend a new school together. What you couldn’t have been prepared for was the fact that one of her said friends would become your enemy on just the first day of meeting and the roller coaster of emotions that followed after.

WORDCOUNT: 31,114k CHARACTERS 169,383k

Hello! This is my first time writing something like this, so I’m a bit dissatisfied with the outcome. However, I spent a decent amount of time writing it, and everyone seems to be excited for it, so I decided to post it for you guys cause otherwise, this would not be seeing the light of day💀 bear with me; I’ll try to write better plots from now on. But anyways, it’s finally here, so I hope everyone enjoys it. Please, please, please send feedback and reblog. I worked so hard on this, so it can’t flop :/

Today was your first day of college, well, at least as a transfer student anyways, you had been so excited to transfer cause after all this time you were finally going to be reuniting with your childhood best friend. You missed her so much after she moved away, but luckily, your parents decided to relocate this year, and it just so happened to be in her same community. Needless to say, you couldn't have been happier after so long. You'd finally be seeing her again.

Over the years, you both kept in touch by texting and FaceTiming every day, keeping your friendship as strong as it was the day she moved away.

However, though your bond was strong, you just couldn't get over the fact that you couldn't hug her, see her in person, and go out together like you used to. It killed you, but neither of you could do anything about it, so sadly, you just accepted it.

But now here you both are, just minutes from meeting again, and you couldn't wait. To say you were happy would be an understatement.

You were impatiently waiting outside the school, nearly shaking in excitement. You were nervous but so so happy at the same time.

You texted her the time you arrived, and minutes later, she was running towards you at the gates of your new school. "Y/n!" she shouted your name with the biggest smile on her face as she opened her arms far and wide to give you a big hug.

You giggled when you saw her excitedly running towards you, and you outstretched your arms, engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug while releasing a deep sigh. "It's been so long." As mentioned previously, you both kept in touch over the phone and on FaceTime, but it still didn't beat actually seeing each other in person after so many years apart.

"Too long" you said tightening your grip on her you missed the warmth of her hugs the most especially when you were going through tough times.

"I missed you. There's so much I have to show you," she cheered as she broke the hug. "I have to show you around and show you to classes. Oh, and of course, you have to finally meet all my friends," she clapped excitedly.

"Friends? I thought I was your only friend," you say playfully, nudging her shoulder with yours.

"You're my only best friend," she winked.

"That's more like it." you both linked your arms together, entering the school so she could show you all the ins and outs.

You were shocked, to say the least.

She gave you the full tour like a personal guide, and it was very much appreciated the school was so big that you're sure you would have gotten lost if it wasn't for her showing you around.

It was much nicer than the one you attended and cleaner, too, which wasn't a surprise cause the community was much nicer than your old neighborhood. Not to say your old neighborhood was bad. It just had significantly less income.

She showed you everything on the walk-through, like the bathrooms, the gym, the library, the cafeteria, literally everything.

As you both walk side by side, she suddenly halts and turns to you with a smile on her face after finishing the tour. "So what do you think?"

"It's great. I love it. So much better than my old school. Sorry, not sorry." you both share a laugh together, and you notice your friend suddenly looking behind you. You turn in the direction she's looking in, and you see a boy waving frantically. He looked to be your same age. He had a bright smile on his face. His hair was brown and bouncing up and down as he jogged over to you both.

"Hi, Jake!" Your best friend smiles, and you smile as well. You heard that name in many conversations that you had with her in the past over FaceTime.

"Hey, Yeji," he greets when he finally reaches both of you. He looks at you, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours. Yeji spoke about you, her best friend coming into town this week, so Jake could only surmise you were that best friend cause he hasn't seen you around till now.

You couldn't help but smile back cause his smile was literally so contagious. "Y/n, this is my friend. I talked to you about. Jake and I met as soon as I moved here, and he's been by my side protecting me and showing me the ropes ever since."

"Hi Jake, nice to meet you." you extend your hand for him to shake, and he does gladly.

"You too. I love seeing new faces and making new friends," he says excitedly. You usually weren't good at first meetings, but this went surprisingly smooth, and you could already see yourself growing close to him. He just had a very positive and comfortable vibe about him, and anyone who was a friend of Yeji was a friend of yours.

"Class is about to start soon, but I'll briefly introduce you to all my friends." You nod your head, smiling softly at the thought of meeting her friends finally, she talked so much about them, and they all sounded like great people.

"All the others are just outside. Shall we go see them? We have…" Jake trails off, looking at the timepiece on his wrist. "Just about fifteen minutes before class."

"Perfect." Yeji takes your hand in hers, leading you outside on the front bench where they all usually hang out before class. "Hi everyone," she greets, gathering the attention of the five other people sitting on the bench. "So I have someone I'd like you to meet." They all lift their heads from their phones and notebooks, offering you a kind smile as you look at the many different faces of her friend group. "This is y/n, my long-time bestie that I always talk about. You guys already know, but she's transferring here, and from now on, she's a part of our group," she announces while you three take a seat on the bench together with the rest of them. "So treat her well," she says sternly.

You hear a series of hi's and hellos. "H-hello," you say shyly. "I'm y/n. It's nice to finally meet my friends, friends." Chuckling softly, you lower your head, hiding your shyness or attempting to anyway.

"Likewise, names Jay," a male with silver hair replies with a cool smirk on his face.

"I'm Sunghoon. Nice to meet you," another male says, and you can't help but stare at him for a second longer, or maybe two, because he was absolutely breathtaking.

"I'm Karina." You looked to the left, making eye contact with one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen. Her smile was literally perfect. You nodded slightly, and you're sure you were blushing by now. How come yeji never told you all her friends looked like models.

"Yeonjun," a boy with bright blue hair sitting next to Karina, introduced himself briefly with a small wave, and you smiled politely.

"It's nice to meet all of y-" You were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You immediately got embarrassed because you didn't even notice him at first. To be fair, though, he was seated a little further on the back of the bench, so it wasn't that easy to notice him. Plus, you were still a bit nervous, and making eye contact wasn't a strong point for you at first-time meetings.

"I'm heeseung," he says dryly without bothering to offer you a smile or a wave cause the way you greeted everyone else but just completely ignored him.

"Nice to meet you, heese-" You try to acknowledge him, but he looked so uninterested, and if you're not mistaken, you could have sworn he rolled his eyes before he interrupted you for the second time in less than a minute.

"Class is starting now." He stands up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, and walking to the entrance all by himself.

"U-uhh, nice meeting you all. I hope we can all get along and become good friends." You finally finished what you were going to say before that heeseung guy rudely interrupted you not once but twice. You don't understand. Everyone else greeted you perfectly fine, but it's almost as if he didn't even want to meet you, which is weird. You couldn't imagine Yeji being friends with someone like that, but you didn't say anything. He was probably just annoyed by something or tired cause, after all, it was still really early morning, plus no one had a reaction to his behavior, so you're sure you were just reading too much into the situation, that's all.

They all gave you a parting smile and packed up their things, following heeseung into the building while you and Yeji did the same. She dropped you off at your first class, wishing you luck and giving you a thumbs up before leaving you by yourself for the first time today.

-

Introducing yourself in class was something you always dreaded, but the way Yeji's friend Heeseung was almost glaring at you while doing it made it ten times worse. You wondered if you had possibly done something earlier to offend him, but there was nothing you could think of at the moment.

You finished your very short introduction speech and naturally walked to the seat next to Heeseungs. The other chairs were free, but you decided on that one since you were trying to get close to Yeji's friends. You figured this was the perfect way to do just that. "Sorry about earlier." You lean in a little and whisper to him you're not exactly sure what you're even apologizing for, but you did it just to clear the air.

He turns to you, an annoyed expression on his face as he holds his index finger to his mouth, indicating for you to shush.

You sat upright in your chair, a slight pout on your lips from how rude he was being. You were just trying to do the right thing and apologize, and he was being mean about it for no apparent reason.

You wondered how he could be a friend of Yejis. He was very handsome but a total jerk, and Yeji definitely didn't hang around rude people like him, at least not since you've known her.

You sigh, and you can't believe your first class was basically ruined all because of him. When it ended, you couldn't have been happier cause sitting next to him felt so suffocating, and after you left that class, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

"So, how was it?" Yeji pops up out of nowhere while you are wandering the halls alone.

"It was good." You forced a smile and lied because you didn't want to bad mouth Heeseung in front of her. He was literally her friend, and besides, you didn't want it to start any unnecessary drama on the first day. You're sure Heeseung probably just wasn't feeling well.

"Great!" She said enthusiastically everything was already going so well. She was happy your first class was good, and you were finally able to reunite and meet her friends. So far, it was perfect, just how she imagined it would be. "Sorry to leave you again, but" she points down the hall. "Next class," she whispered. You waved her off, telling her it was alright and that you'd be fine alone.

You went your separate ways and headed to your next classroom, and lo and behold, heeseung was in this one, too. This time, you decided to sit away from him, not wanting to annoy him any further than you already apparently had.

Once you sat down, heeseung peeked over his shoulder, looking back at you in the corner of the room. Sitting all by yourself, you felt someone's gaze on you, and as soon as you looked up, you could see him quickly turn away from you. He started tapping his pencil on his desk and bouncing his legs, pretending like he wasn't just staring in your exact direction.

You shook your head, wondering what was up with him, but you let it drift to the back of your mind, convincing yourself that he was just having a bad day and left it alone.

-

Classes went by in a breeze. Heeseung was like literally in all your classes, and it was just your luck, but as the day went on, you were able to focus and completely forget about what happened earlier in the morning.

Once you packed up all your stuff, you left class, texting Yeji that you had just finished. She caught up with you a few minutes later, and you chatted with her about how everything went as you walked the halls to catch up with the others in the cafeteria. She was happy to hear you shared the same classes as Heeseung, but you weren't. "He's really great and smart. If you need help with anything, he's your go-to guy. He's just like naturally good at everything, and he's so humble and nice about it." She goes on and on about how nice he is, but you just can't see it after the way he's been treating you on just the first day of knowing you, but whatever, you trusted Yeji and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

You both headed to the cafeteria, and you wonder if you and yeji are both talking about the same heeseung cause when you sat down next to him, he looked as if he'd tear your head clean off in the last class you had together.

The lunch table in the cafeteria was already full of Yejis's friends gathered around and eating while conversing with each other.

You and Yeji got your food together, and the both of you went to the table to join in the conversation they were having. Yeji easily joined, but it was harder for you because, of course, she had known these people way longer than you, so you stayed quiet for the most part, only laughing at a few jokes here and there.

"Hey, since y/n's new here, we should ask questions so we can learn more about each other," Jake suggested, noticing your silence, and everyone immediately agreed with his idea. "Y/n, you can start," Jake says and includes you into the conversation.

You picked at your food nervously, trying to think of a good conversation starter. "Umm, what's everyone's favorite food?" You ask, hoping that was a good question to start with, and with everyone's enthusiastic replies, you assumed it was, which helped you loosen up a bit.

Everyone told you their favorites, starting with Sunghoon and ending with heeseung. You heard him mutter something under his breath, but you didn't really pay attention to it because he was quite rude earlier, and you weren't entirely over it yet. After you all shared your favorites, you went on to talk about your favorite colors next, just learning the basics about each other on your first day.

Heeseung scoffed and removed himself from the conversation when you didn't reply to him like you did with everyone else. He decided to fill his mouth with food instead of talking. besides, he wasn't that interested in getting to know you anyways cause you were so rude from the moment you introduced yourself, and he wonders how such a sweet girl like yeji could surround herself with someone like you.

Despite your rudeness, heeseung still couldn't deny that when he first saw you, he thought you were absolutely beautiful. That was the only thing you did have on your side, but that wasn't enough to get him to befriend the likes of you.

Lunch went smoothly for the most part. You laughed and talked with everyone, getting to know each of them on a more personal level. It wasn't much, but you think you all covered a lot of bases just on the first day of knowing each other, and you hoped things would continue like this, minus Heeseung being a bit stand-off-ish.

-

Your first week went rather quickly, and everything was going great, just like it was on the first day you arrived. You got closer to everyone, especially Jake, and you weren't getting lost in the halls as often anymore or running around like a chicken with your head cut off in search of a bathroom, so that was a huge plus.

The only thing that still wasn't so great was heeseung.

Every time you'd come around, he'd find any excuse to remove himself from a conversation or roll his eyes at the mere sight of you, making it impossible for you not to notice that he didn't enjoy your presence at all.

At first, you convinced yourself it was just him being tired, but after three weeks of him being like that with you, you decided to say something to Yeji about her friend because things between you and him were uncomfortable, to say the least, especially when all you were trying to do was get along with everyone. "Is he always like that?" You ask, book bag in hand, as you and Yeji head home from school for the day.

"Is who always like what?" She questions while mindlessly kicking a pebble on the ground once you both exit the building.

"Heeseung," you blurt out, not holding back anymore. "He's quite," you hum in thought, trying to find a way not to offend her or depict Heeseung as a bad guy. "Rude," you add softly.

Her brows raised at the statement, and when you noticed her expression, you grew anxious about her answer because what if she didn't believe you? What if she thinks you're trying to bad mouth her friend for no reason? That wouldn't be a good look for you at all. "He's just shy, but once you get to know him, he's really nice, and lots of people mistake his quietness for rudeness, but he's the complete opposite."

Nodding your head, you pondered her words, but him being quiet wasn't the problem with the two of you, so you pressed a little further, hoping to get answers as to why Heeseung didn't like you. "But it's been nearly a month, and every time I come around, it's like he hates me or something," you pout.

"Hmm, well, I'm sure you two will get along well. Just give him some time." she shrugs it off, and you let it go once again, but you'd be keeping close tabs on his behavior towards you from now on.

-

You and Yeji's friend group were all currently on lunch break, eating in silence until. "Y/n, we're all going to the movies on Saturday. Would you like to come?" Yeonjun tilted his head curiously, awaiting your answer, and he looked so adorable.

"Hmm," you think if you have anything planned this Saturday, but you didn't. Your whole day was totally free. "Sure!"

"Great!" he smiles before returning to the bowl of soup that he had gotten from the school's cafeteria.

You nearly snapped when you heard Heeseung sighing right beside you. Any other time, you'd think you were being paranoid, but you could tell it was directed at you, and to be honest, you were getting fed up with him already.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably while glaring at him. He turned his head in your opposite direction, unmistakably annoyed by you, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't like you, nor would you ask him about it cause he looked like he'd rather keel over than utter a single word to you.

Unfortunately, you had to be seated next to him, but you scooted as far away from him as possible, and as soon as you did, he did the same thing, creating a noticeable distance between the two of you.

What a petty asshole, you thought. Here he is, making it seem like you were doing something wrong when you were just simply trying to enjoy your lunch with your new friends.

Anyway, you were done with him. He could be annoyed all by himself cause you didn't care what he thought of you anymore, and you didn't care about becoming his friend no matter how many good things Yeji said about him.

You couldn't wrack your brain with his antics.

-

The day of the movie night rolled around, and everyone was already there waiting for you outside the venue.

"Okay, where's y/n?" Jake wonders out loud and checks his phone for a text from you, but he finds none.

Unfortunately, you had been running a bit late thanks to your alarm going off ten minutes past its set time. You must've set it wrong again. You knew you shouldn't have taken that afternoon nap, you got ready as fast as humanly possible to make up for your mistake. You arrived late, obviously, but only by a couple of minutes. "Sorry, I'm late," You smile sheepishly as you stand in front of them outside the venue with an apologetic pout on your face.

"Shouldn't have invited her," Heeseung says under his breath, and you wonder how no one else noticed this bullshit but you, but like you originally planned, you were ignoring him and his stupidity. If he wanted to be childish, he could be that way alone. You weren't going to waste time and energy on him, but it just baffled you how he could be so damn rude to a person he didn't even know.

"No worries, y/n. besides, we probably just missed some previews, no biggie," Jake assures you as you all enter the theater to get your tickets. You each buy your own individual snacks and go into the movie as quickly as possible.

Jake was right. The only thing you missed was the previews, which you were thankful for cause you'd feel bad if you made them miss the opening of the movie because you were late.

You don't know why or how you got stuck next to Heeseung's nasty ass, but somehow you did, and you immediately asked to switch seats or tried to, but before you could, he was pulling you down by your wrist, forcing you to sit next to him. "Stop making a scene," he tells you sternly without looking at you, and you were seething in anger cause what gave him the right to grab you and say you're making a scene when he has been the one making a scene every time he's within twelve feet of you?

You were about to reply, but he leaves you speechless when he reaches his hand in your bucket of popcorn, eating it like it was his, eating it like he paid for it. If he wanted some, why didn't he just buy it like everyone else had? "Wha-"

"Shush, the movie is starting," he quiets you immediately, letting go of your wrist, and feel so helpless cause you wanted to scold him, but you quite literally couldn't unless you took him outside, which at that point would actually be causing a scene, so you just let it go like you've been doing.

Halfway through the movie and, he's still helping himself to the popcorn you had bought for yourself.

You shook your head, reaching for your drink instead cause his hand was in the way of your popcorn, and he just had to reach for it too, causing both your hands to collide at the same time, and next thing you know, the ice cold slushy was falling into your lap you gasped loudly as the red drink seeped into your white shirt.

"Are you a baby or what? Spilling all over yourself, how childish," he tsked and continued watching the movie as you got up silently and went to the bathroom. apparently, everyone was too engrossed in the movie to notice your guy's little scuffle, which was fine cause you didn't want to ruin their night cause you were fighting with heeseung.

Once you reached the bathroom, you cleaned up as much as you could, but your shirt was stained bright red. You all had planned to go to dinner later, but it looked like you'd have to sit this one out cause your clothes were completely ruined.

You went back into the theater and finished watching the movie with the rest of them, and for the most part, you had a good time, minus that fat-headed jerk being next to you the whole time.

After an hour and some minutes, the credits rolled by, and everyone was filtering out of the theater. Once you all got outside, yeji was the first one to notice your shirt. "Oh no, y/n, what happened?" She asked with concern in her eyes, and now you kinda felt embarrassed cause all the attention was suddenly on you.

"I spilled on myself," you mumbled, and they couldn't help but smile at how cute you looked. While telling them what happened you looked just like a little kid that dropped their ice cream.

"Aww," Jake pouts, taking in the stain on your shirt. "You still look pretty, though red is your color," he says, trying to ease your embarrassment, and it definitely helped, you give him a wide smile of appreciation.

Heeseung folded his arms, popping his mouth at the scene. He was silent about the whole thing, which you found pretty funny cause it was his fault why your shirt was ruined, but you're almost glad it was because you didn't want to be around him any longer than you had to, even if it meant you couldn't hang out with your friends.

"Thanks, Jake." You looked down at your feet, blushing slightly. "I think I'll opt out of dinner, guys, so go ahead without me." They all collectively make sounds of disappointment, but you couldn't possibly go out looking like this, and you didn't want to ruin their plans by trying to reschedule. Being late to the movie was already bad enough.

"Thank goodness," Heeseung mumbled loud enough for you to hear and no one else, but you paid him no mind.

"Well, bye, y/n. I'll miss you," Yeonjun says, being a bit dramatic, and you just laughed it off, giving everyone else a hug except Heeseung cause, of course, he wouldn't want a hug from you. "Bye, Jay." you released him from the hug, and you were all ready to head home by your lonesome. Your night ended much sooner than planned, thanks to that giant cockroach that called himself Lee Heeseung. You couldn't believe that loser didn't even say it was his fault why your drink spilled in the first place.

"Wait!" Jay shouts eyes big and wide. "What if we all just have dinner at your place? We can grab the ingredients, and I'll cook. Plus, you can change your shirt, and we can all hang out together as planned?" He suggests.

"That's a great idea!" Karina says excitedly.

"Yeah and then we can have a sleep over!" Jake shouts and gets a smack on the back of his head by sunghoon.

"We don't even have our stuff, you dummy, and besides, we didn't even ask y/n yet." Jake rubs the back of his head, a dejected pout on his face. "Y/n, can we have a sleepover, please?" And how could you even think about saying no when everyone was looking at you with the cutest puppy eyes?

"But didn't you just say we don't have any of our stuf-" Jake immediately gets cut off with another slap to the back of his head.

"Yes, we can have a sleepover. My parents are out of town, but my house is kinda small-" Before you could finish, Jake and Sunghoon were all over you, hugging you way too tight, but you welcomed their gratitude by hugging them back.

"You're crushing her, guys." Jay shakes his head, prying the two boys off you. "Then I guess it's settled dinner and sleepover at y/n's house," Everyone cheered except for Heeseung, which wasn't even surprising to you anymore.

"I'm not going," Heeseung grumbles, drawing everyone's attention from you to him.

"Aww why?" Yeji says going up to him and tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. "You have to come," she pouts. "It won't be the same if everyone isn't coming," she begs.

He sighs, feeling conflicted because he really didn't want to be there with you, but he wanted to be there with his friends. "I don't know. I gotta get up early tomorrow t-"

"Heeseung, don't be a party pooper!" Yeonjun yells, and you can't help the laugh you let out, earning a glare from none other than Heeseung, but you really didn't care.

"It's a sleepover, not a party, you dimwit" You wanted to laugh, but you held it back because the last thing you wanted was to laugh at something Heeseung said.

"Whatever, just are you coming or not?" Jay interrupted the banter.

"Please," Yeji whines, making it impossible for Heeseung to say no, especially cause he knew she was so excited about having everyone together for your guy's first night out as a group.

"Fine," heeseung sighed, knowing he was in for a full night of torture.

-

It's been exactly two months since you moved, and you absolutely loved it. You're so glad your parents decided to move. It was literally the best decision ever. You could now call yejis friends your friends, you learned how to navigate your way around the community, and so far, school was going great. You couldn't ask for more, you were absolutely loving your new life.

Tonight would be the first party you were invited to by none other than your best friend. She said you should enjoy the young adult lifestyle and have fun since, after all, it was the weekend you didn't party much. Actually, you didn't party at all, mainly because you didn't like it but also because you didn't have any friends back home to party with, but now you had a whole group of people you liked and were comfortable with so, you decided to go try new things and see if it was something you'd like to do from now on.

So basically, in short, life couldn't be better right now.

The only problem was heeseung, but you completely gave up on being friends with him cause he was just simply weird, and you weren't going to dwell on it anymore. He got along with everyone else but you, so you didn't make a big fuss about it. Some people just simply aren't compatible, and you understand that, but he could have gone about it nicer nonetheless.

Jake and Heeseung were both walking side by side to their lockers, getting ready to head home for the day. "You're coming to the party right?"

"Hmm who's going?" Heeseung replies, stuffing a good-sized pile of books into his backpack for later use.

"Uhh, everyone?" Jake laughs, a bit confused by Heeseung's response.

If everyone meant you included, then he definitely didn't want to go cause you'd just ignore him whenever he said something and shoot nasty glares his way, and he could really go without that for a day. "I don't know. I have some work I need to get finished over the weekend,"

"Come on, you're already like the smartest person here. What is one party gonna hurt?" Jake says pulling the straps of his backpack on his shoulders as they make their way to the exit together.

"It's not the party. It's who's at the party." he rolled his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Jake says confused cause this was never a problem for Heeseung before. He didn't frequent parties as much as the others, but he also never complained about who would be at said party until today.

"It's nothing."

"Come on, just tell me," Jake pries for answers.

"Okay, but don't tell anyone." Jake immediately nods his head, assuring Heeseung that his secret is safe with him. "So you know yejis friend, right? y/n or whatever her name is," Jake nods again, but there's a confused expression slowly growing on his face as he wonders where Heeseung is going with this. "She like has issues with me for some reason, and I don't like being around her," he whispers.

"What?!" Jake says, surprised. "She literally gets along with everyone. What do you mean?"

"Everyone except me," Heeseung scoffs. "I don't care. It's just I don't understand why she feels the need to display it all the time. I don't even get why yejis friends with her, to be honest."

"Look, man, I don't know what you're talking about. She's great to me, and she fits in our group well, the perfect new addition." Jake nodded to himself.

"The perfect new annoying addition there, I fixed it for you," heeseung replies, and as they get further down the hall, he spots you and Jay laughing and talking with each other. "Speak of the devil" he rolls his eyes.

"So I take it you're not coming then?" Jake asked, disappointment evident in his tone as he waved at you and Jay in the distance with a smile on his face.

"You take it correct" he followed Jake's movements, waving to Jay only cause he couldn't care less about greeting you.

"Just give her a chance. I think you're misjudging her," heeseung hears Jake but doesn't respond simply because he knows if he did try to get closer to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.

"Hey, me and y/n were just about to go eat. Do you wanna come with?" Jay asked once they got in speaking range.

"Busy," Heeseung replies immediately cause there's no way he could keep his food down if he had to see your face the whole time.

"Okay, you?" Jay asked Jake.

"I'm always down to eat." You smiled, happy to have more company, and thank goodness Heeseung was not going because you literally couldn't stand him.

"On second thought, I'll tag along." Heeseung looked at you, a smirk on his face, and you don't know why, but it made you feel nervous cause he rarely even acknowledged you.

"Thought you were busy." Jay leads the way for the small group of four outside the gates and heads to the restaurant just a couple minutes away.

"Ehh, it can wait," Heeseung shrugs.

-

Arriving at the restaurant ten minutes later, you all take your seats, ordering the food you want and waiting for it to be served. "This feels weird with just the four of us," Jay commented. Usually, everyone would go out together to eat, but not today.

"It does," you pout. "Too bad they couldn't come."

"Hey, it's their fault for not studying harder, and now you pay the price cooped in your room catching up on work when you could be eating a delicious meal," Jake jokes, and you giggle softly. "Couldn't be me"

Heeseung sighs and pulls out his phone to ignore the annoying sounds of your laughter. He didn't know why you felt the need to run around fake-laughing at nearly everything Jake said. Hell, Jake could breathe, and you'd laugh, but far be it from him to make a joke. You'd just go silent, for fuck sake, anyone could make a joke, and you laugh at everyone except him.

He doesn't know why everyone was so blind to it. You were just trying to be the nice "it" girl where everything you did was cute and funny, and you were the life of the party, and everything was fucking sunshine and stupid ass rainbows; meanwhile, you were treating him like shit.

While eating, you all struck up a conversation, and Heeseung knew he wasn't being ignored. He just didn't have much knowledge of said topic, but he was still upset because even when he was the center of a conversation, you still never listened to him the way you were listening so intently to Jake and Jay.

Feeling left out, he discreetly slid his cup of iced coffee to the center of the table. Last time he did that, you gave him a little attention, so why not do it again? Once it was exactly where he wanted it to be, he "accidentally" knocked it over, causing you to get drenched in the ice cold beverage.

You gasped in shock the cold making little goosebumps form all over your skin. "Oh my gosh are you alright?" Jay asked and grabbed some tissues off the table and handed them to you to clean your shirt.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just cold," you laugh awkwardly as you wipe the coffee off of your clothes. You could have sworn you saw Heeseung smiling, and at this point, it wouldn't surprise you if he did it on purpose. You shook your head at him and continued to pat yourself dry.

Jake glared at heeseung as he heard him chuckling softly. "So immature," he scoffed, and Heeseung shrugged his shoulders, not really caring about what Jake had to say. "Would you like to go to the restroom? I have a spare shirt and joggers in my bag that I didn't use for practice. Maybe it'll fit?" Jake offers.

You looked down at your soaked clothing, and you didn't really have much of an option. "Thanks, Jake." You got up from the table, glaring at Heeseung once last time.

"Dude, you could have at least apologized for spilling your drink," Jay said once you both left the table.

"Sure, she liked the attention." Heeseung stood up and snatched his bag, deciding to just go home. He didn't even know why he was so angry. He just was.

Jay's brows furrowed in confusion, and heeseung was gone. Before he could question it, he just brushed it off and finished eating his pasta while waiting for you and Jake to come back.

When the two of you both came back, you noticed a certain someone wasn't there anymore, and you felt relieved.

"Where's heeseung?" Jake wonders.

"He just dipped." when you heard that, it made your blood boil, and it wasn't rocket science to put together why he came to lunch with you guys, to begin with. Was he really that sick in the head to ruin your lunch with your friends just cause he didn't like you?

That was your last straw. From now on, you wouldn't even look at him or try to greet him. He was a nasty jerk, and you're glad he didn't want anything to do with you cause you didn't want anything to do with him either.

-

Later that night, you got ready for the party, ignoring the earlier half of your day. You hoped you'd have fun tonight, and it'd make up for the crap you had to put up with at lunch today.

You dressed in something casual, putting on your favorite perfume and adding a little bit of jewelry, and though your look was pretty basic, you couldn't lie. You still looked really good in it. You checked yourself out in the wall-length mirror one last time and were confident in your outfit choice.

You walked out the front door and got into Yeonjun's car since apparently it was his turn to be the driver, or so you were told.

"You look beautiful, y/n," Yeji compliments you, giving you an even bigger confidence boost.

"So do you," you reply, loving the half-cut black dress she wore. It had gold accents on it, which made her look even more stunning, especially with her matching black heels.

"Oh, this is nothing," she humbly waved you off while you buckled yourself in.

"That's definitely something," Yeonjun piped up from the front seat, looking at Yeji in the rearview mirror with a slight smirk on his lips.

She smiled and looked down at her lap, blushing from his compliment, and you couldn't help but smile at the two.

-

When you three arrived, everyone else was already at the party. Apparently, yeonjun dropped them off along the way. You looked around, seeing everyone enjoying themselves. You greeted each of them one by one, except Heeseung. Of course, to be honest, you kinda even forgot he was part of your friend group. That's just how much you didn't think about him after that bullshit he pulled today.

You complimented each of your friends. Karina especially looked beautiful. Jake Sunghoon and Jay were also extremely handsome, as well as Yeonjun, but unfortunately, one person stood out to you the most, and as much as you tried not to look at him, you couldn't help it, your eyes were glued in his direction.

Heeseung looked so tall and slender. His hair was quaffed to perfection, his dangle earrings just pieced everything together so perfectly, and you were sure he'd smelled just as amazing as he looked in that all-black outfit. You just wished he wasn't such a dick. Otherwise, he'd be literally everything you looked for in a guy visually, anyways.

Heeseung originally wasn't even going to come to the party, but since you were avoiding him like the plague after the incident at the restaurant today, he changed his mind. Plus, Jake wouldn't stop begging him to go.

"Earth to y/n." Karina waved her hand in your face, and you snapped out of it, focusing your gaze on her instead of heeseung.

"O-oh hi," you stutter, and your cheeks immediately heat up, feeling embarrassed that you just got caught ogling your best friend's friend.

"See something, or should I say someone you like?" She teased, and you just playfully pushed her shoulder.

"No," she looks at you, obviously not convinced.

"Okay, fine." You pointed to the guy that was standing next to Heeseung, diverting her from thinking you were looking at him. The last thing you wanted was for your friends or Heeseung to think you liked him cause you didn't. He was just pretty, and that's all.

"Oh, that's Jeongin. Should I introduce you two?" She wiggles her brows with a playful smile.

"No, it's-"she cuts you off and takes your hand, leading you over to the two.

"Hi, jeongin," she giggles. Obviously, she had been drinking earlier from her seemingly carefree demeanor. "This is our new friend, y/n. Isn't she beautiful?" Your eyes slightly widened, and you smiled, trying to look as normal as possible despite Karina putting you on the spot.

He looks surprised upon seeing you both, and he smiles at you, showing one of the brightest smiles you ever saw but still nowhere near as bright as Jake's. "Very beautiful, beautiful name for a beautiful lady." he extends his hand for you to shake, and you do, shaking it gently as you give him a warm smile.

Heeseung looked at your touching hands, and it made him scoff because you didn't shake his hand when you first met him, not that he cared, but still. "I'm going to get another drink," he says rudely, leaving you three alone without saying hi to you.

Once Karina introduced the two of you, she left you both alone, probably thinking she was playing matchmaker or something, but you had zero interest in jeongin. You just made up a quick lie so you wouldn't be caught gawking at Heeseung, but he was really nice. You talked to him a bit more, telling him when you first got here and how you transferred. "How come I haven't seen you around?" You ask to keep the conversation going, and he goes on to tell you about him attending another school, but he comes to parties to catch up with Heeseung and some of his other friends.

Somewhere along the line, Jake and Sunghoon joined the conversation, and you all talked amongst yourselves about anything that came up in conversation.

You took a Quick Look around, and Karina was with some guy you had never seen before yeji was all hugged up with yeonjun, which explains why he was acting all flirty earlier, and now that you think about it, it wasn't really surprising since their interaction in the car plus she told you previously she had a crush on one of her guy friends so you assumed it was him.

You're not sure where heeseung went off to, and you made the mistake of surveying the area further, and you quickly found him he was all alone off in the corner with a cup in his hand, and you kinda felt bad about taking his friend away from him so you politely excused yourself to the bathroom so jeongin and him could finish catching up at some point tonight.

While you were freshening up in the bathroom, a few minutes later, you heard loud screams coming from the living room and people cheering and chanting chug chug chug you shook your head softly, wondering what was so fun about chugging beer.

Once you dried your hands off, you exited the bathroom to see what all the fuss was about. You weren't even five feet into the living room before people started shouting at you. "Chug, chug, chug!" You smile and shake your head, immediately declining, that is, until all your friends appear out of nowhere and start cheering you on too.

"Y/n! y/n! y/n!" Heeseung supposed it was fate you coming in and ruining his fun. He was the one that had previously shotgunned his beer, and everyone was cheering for him. That's until you came along.

Not only did you have to take his friend away from him, you had to take his moment away, too. When was it ever going to be good enough for you?

You quickly gave in to all the cheers and did something you never thought you'd do.

You poked a hole in the beer can, popping the cap open and chugging till all the beer was completely gone. Loud screams erupted from everyone, and seconds later, Jake threw you over his shoulder in excitement as everyone jumped up and down excitedly from your amazing chug, excluding Heeseung.

You tapped Jake on his back, telling him to set you down before you threw up everything you just drank. "Oh, sorry, I was just excited," he apologizes cutely.

"It's okay" you say and pat his shoulder to reassure him while trying to catch your breath. "I didn't think I could do that," you laugh, feeling a slight buzz in your head as everyone jumped to the music and cheered you on.

"Me neither," he chuckled in amazement. "Only heeseung can do that."

You forced a smile on your face upon hearing his name. You also heard a series of cheers, people muttering how someone so innocent-looking could drink so much, and other people talking about how they envied you and how cool you were.

Heeseung was at his rope's end, and he couldn't take it anymore. He approached you with a soft smile on his face, and for once, you actually thought he might have said something nice to you since everyone else was, but boy, you were so wrong. "Good job," he says sarcastically while dumping his full can of beer all over your head, ruining your dress for the second time today. He throws his can on the ground, leaving everyone stunned and speechless by his petty actions. He slams the door on his way out of the party, seething in anger.

Your friends all rushed to comfort them, but you ran off to the bathroom, completely and utterly embarrassed and hurt by the fact he'd do something so drastic. What have you ever done to him to get treated this way? Everything else up to this point was somewhat tolerable, but this was your breaking point. You just wanted to have a little fun, but apparently, that was impossible. Whenever Lee Heeseung was around, you cleaned up the sticky mess as much as you could, but you weren't going to stay at the party cause your night was ruined.

Ten minutes later, you came out. Jake and Yeji were waiting outside for you, and you told them you didn't want to talk about it and you just wanted to go home. "Sorry for ruining your night" you apologized.

"No need, and don't worry, I'll talk to Heeseung. I don't know why he'd do that. He's never acted like that before ever," she says, obviously confused.

You nod your head. You really don't care anymore. You just hoped from now on, he'd leave you alone once and for all.

-

"I was just drunk," heeseung pleads his case to Yeji, who was on his ass about last night. "I thought it might be funny" he lied through his teeth.

"That's not an excuse for what you did, and why would that be funny anyway?" She inquired.

"Fine, I'll do it," he agreed instead of telling her the real reason behind his actions. How could he tell her without sounding completely crazy? "But I was drunk. I just-"

"You had two beers!" Yeji yelled at heeseung and he shut his mouth real quick. "If you're not gonna tell me, just go apologize and stop wasting my time," she dismissed.

He whined and trudge over to where you were sitting all alone in the school library. "C-can I sit?" He stutters nervously.

"You do everything else you want, so I don't see why not," you answer coldly, but you don't care how rude you sound. He didn't deserve your kindness after all the shit he pulled yesterday.

"Whatever, I'm sorry for the other night," he said emotionlessly, not bothering to sit down.

You hummed in acknowledgment, and little did you know that he just ground his fucking gears cause even though he was talking to you and he was the only one around, you still weren't paying attention to him. Was he really just invisible to you? "I said" he closed the book you were looking at, forcing you to look up at him instead. "I'm sorry"

"Okay, what do you want me to do celebrate? Do a back flip?" He shook his head sighing deeply in frustration.

"You could at least fucking pay attention to me. Not everything is always about you, you know?" He agitatedly folded his arms.

"Oh, so that's what this is about. You're just upset 'cause you don't have my attention." You were just playing around with him, but little did you know you hit the nail right on the head.

"N-no, I'm not." his expression falters a bit.

You gasped like you had just made a world-changing discovery. "Hmm, mm, so is that why you're always spilling drinks on me? Embarrassing me so I can pay attention to you?"

"I seriously couldn't care less at all. I just came to apologize 'cause yeji forced me too," he huffs.

"You must care enough to always try and humiliate me.” he stared at you, saying absolutely nothing. "And why are you still standing there?" You question.

"Because you weren't paying atten-” he stops himself before he can finish, his eyes widening when he realizes what he was just about to say. "Just never mind. I don't care if you accept it or not. Just stay away from me.

"Last time I checked, it was you not staying away from me, Mr. I accidentally spilled my coffee," you say with finger quotes. Normally, you would have just accepted the apology and moved on, but you didn't cause he was just a flat-out asshole.

He wordlessly turns his back and walks away. You watch his figure slowly getting further away and shake your head, trying to understand what the heck is wrong with the enigma named Lee Heeseung.

"Did you do it?" Yeji asks when she sees Heeseung walking out of the library. His ears were tinted pink with embarrassment.

"Y-yes," he managed to squeak out in passing, going straight for the men's room so he could wash his face with cold water after embarrassing himself like that.

-

Since then, you and Heeseung hadn't come in contact with each other, safely managing to keep your distance, but that didn't stop you from getting your revenge and being petty as hell.

Whenever Heeseung would talk, you'd purposely interrupt him, taking the attention from him to you, and you didn't miss the annoyed glares he sent your way.

You'd always add in little rude comments under your breath or chuckle whenever he expressed interest in anything.

You admit you probably took things too far, but that's what he gets for not spilling one but three drinks on you, or at least you were convinced all those other times were on purpose.

You were attending another party cause you enjoyed last time minus beer being poured over your head and going home a sticky mess.

Of course, after getting settled in and having a few drinks, you just had to annoy heeseung. It was your daily mission to annoy him at least once a day and give him just a taste of his own medicine. You were already a bit tipsy, so the timing was perfect to say something reckless and not care by the end of the night, especially when you just saw him getting rejected for the second time tonight. Little did you know he was the one doing the rejecting. "Aww, poor little thing," you teased. "He's not getting any attention." You stood next to him in the kitchen, pouring yourself another drink.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed another beer, not in the mood for your bullshit. You'd been getting on his nerves a little too much lately. "Go away," he mumbled.

"Why? Aren't I giving you the attention that you crave?" You giggle, and he looks at you with that same agitation that he always had on his face whenever you were around. "Why the long face, baby?" You're blaming the alcohol for that one, but you can't lie. The shocked look on his face when you called him baby was actually so adorable.

"G-get out of here," he lightly nudged your shoulder with his elbow.

You continued teasing him, seeing just how far you could get under his skin. "Since I'm the only girl giving you attention, why not just take me home?"

"As if, I wouldn't touch you if you were the last girl on earth," he starts nervously gulping down his drink, hoping you wouldn't notice how flustered you were making him right now.

"Come on, it's just one night after all." You trail your hand up his forearm, taunting him.

"Y/n, are you being serious?" He gulped while looking at your hand, which was now slowly making its way towards his pec, and exhaled a shaky breath.

"Hmm," you hum, a seductive smile on your lips as you slip your hand inside his black button-up, brushing your hand over his nipple and sending shivers down his spine. "What do you say?"

"For real? Like right now?" He whispers and bites his lip, eyes already lidded with arousal.

This was the part where you were supposed to burst out laughing and tease him for being easy, but something in the way he looked at you made you fold. He made you fold so hard that nothing else mattered at this moment besides him taking you back to his place. "Yes," you say almost immediately, your fingers playing with the hardened bud under his shirt. You're not quite sure, but you could have sworn you heard him moan.

You probably should have said no, actually erase the probably you should have said no, but it's just one night and with the most attractive man you've ever seen, so you weren't going to pass this opportunity up even if it was a very stupid thing to do.

"Okay," he whispers, grabbing the hand that was inside his shirt and leading you out of the party, both of you praying none of your friends would see you leaving with your enemy.

Surprisingly, he opens his car door for you, making sure you're seated properly before closing the door and jogging over to the driver's side.

He starts the engine and puts his free hand on your thigh. His cold fingers on your bare skin made your body tingle with excitement. "I'm only doing this cause there's no one el-

"Save it, heeseung." You place his hand higher up your dress. He clenches his jaw when he feels the heat forming between your legs, trying to compose himself and safely get to his apartment.

"Hey, just letting you know you're not my first choice," he defends. You roll your eyes. You already know he was doing it cause you were the only girl available to him, not cause he actually liked you or was interested.

"Good to know." The rest of the drive is silent, but the mood is rising as he teases his fingertips along your panties, which have started to dampen.

"Hmm," you moan softly, head drifting back as he toys with your sensitive clit. You grip his wrist, lifting your hips to meet his palm and desperately rubbing yourself against his fingers.

"Fuck” he says under his breath, and he may or may not have hit the gas a little harder when he felt how sticky you had gotten down there.

His apartment was only like ten more minutes away, but it felt like ten hours with the way his cock was leaking and straining in his jeans.

Finally, he arrived, parking crookedly in the driveway cause he was starting to get extremely impatient.

He leads the way to his apartment, fumbling with his keys at the door, and you place your hand over his shaky one. Once you see him struggling, you guide the key straight into the hole and unlock it. He turns to look at you, silently thanking you as he opens the door and flicks the light on.

He quickly removed his shoes, and you followed suit, easily slipping off your flats, and a second barely passed before he picked you up like you weighed nothing and gently laid you down on his bed that was right around the corner.

You couldn't even get a good look at his apartment cause he was already straddling your lower body and unbuttoning his shirt above you.

Immediately, your gaze falls upon his lean torso, your eyes going lower to the prominent tent in his pants, and you impatiently rub your legs together at the sight. You could obviously see his size was above average.

He smiles to himself from your reaction, hands trailing up your thighs, kneading the soft flesh with his fingers, getting closer and closer to your core. Your breath hitches when he traces over your clit, after a few teasing touches to the sensitive bead. He retracts his hands. Your skirt had risen up enough for him to see the wet patch forming on your lavender panties, and the sight alone made his cock twitch in his jeans.

He bends down for a brief moment, resting his hands beside your head and pecking you one time on the lips. His body slithered down the bed until his face was just mere inches away from meeting your core. "So wet," he whispers and presses his lips on the wet spot, inhaling your scent.

"Hee," You arch your back legs, spreading them open for him as you absentmindedly give him the nickname. He looks up at you, eyebrows raised in amusement as you grip the sheets in pleasure.

"Yeah? Say my name again, baby." Much like you, the simple yet endearing pet name mindlessly leaves his lips as he sticks his tongue out, licking you over your panties.

"Hmm, hee." You moan his name. The feeling of his tongue teasing you through your clothes was already more than you could handle.

"Can I take these off?" He lightly tugs your skirt up a little more, his fingertips resting on the waistband of your underwear, waiting to go any further until you give him your permission.

"You're such a gentleman," you tease.

He rolls his eyes. "Is this okay?" He began carefully dragging your panties down, the air in his apartment, hitting your bare core.

“Yes, take them off, please.” You breathe out as your eyes slowly fall shut. He slides them all the way down to your ankles, leaning back and resting on his knees while lifting your leg to fully remove the lacy material. Your panties fall on the bed, leaving your lower half completely naked as he tilts his head sideways and kisses your ankle while gazing at you.

He groans at the sight of your bare pussy, simultaneously sticking out his tongue, licking from the heel of your foot to the base, and your eyes shoot open from the sensation it was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“So pretty,” he says low enough to where you can’t hear him and parts his lips taking your middle toe into his mouth, sucking on it sensually, and you couldn’t deny it was turning you on more than you’d like to admit.

He caressed your leg with his fingertips sucking just a little harsher drawing out the most sensual moans from you. He hummed, releasing your toe with a soft pop, slowly laying your leg down on the bed as the tip of your toes brushed across his broad chest before your leg met the mattress.

You were already breathing heavily even though he’d barely done anything to you yet, and you knew the moment he lays between your legs, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself.

He lays back down between your legs, hands moving to your thighs to spread you open as he licked your inner folds up and down, tasting your sweet liquid on his tongue. “So good” he squeezed your thighs, swallowing down your essence as his nose tickled your clit.

He guides his right hand to your entrance and presses his fingers against your hole, easily pushing inside cause how wet and relaxed you are. He hums lowly as your walls tense up on his fingers. “You like that, huh?” He whispers warm breath fanning your pussy as he sensually nudges his nose on your clit and then sucks it into his mouth, enjoying the little sounds of pleasure that you make for him.

“Oh yes,” you looked between your legs, watching the way he fingers your soaked pussy. Every time his fingers go in, they are coated in a new thick layer of arousal, making the lewdest sounds possible between your legs.

He looked so good eating you out. The way he’d eye you from time to time as he hit your spot made your eyes roll back in your head, and your legs shake uncontrollably.

The lewd groans that passed his wet swollen lips vibrated against your pussy, and you couldn’t help but cum on his fingers and tongue. It had only been three minutes if that, but you couldn’t hold it in. He was working his fingers inside you like magic. “Oh hee hmph fuck!” You breathe out, panting as your walls spasm around his digits, and you cum without warning.

“Yes, baby cum in my mouth just like that,” he whispers as you buck your hips on his digits while he guides you through your state of bliss, gently sucking your delicate clit.

You instinctively clamp your legs close well as much as you can, with him being between them. He rubs over your mound, kissing your thighs until your orgasm fades away, and it is quite possibly the best one you’ve ever had.

He sat up, licking the remnants of you off his lips while undoing his jeans, the top of his Calvin’s peeking over the waistband of his pants as he slowly lowered them around his knees.

You propped yourself up, your face inches away from his crotch as you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes wide and innocent looking as you experimentally placed your hand over his cock, your touch so soft and light that if he wasn’t so sensitive down there, he wouldn’t have even felt it.

He groaned softly, brows knitted together from your slight touch.

You caressed his shaft over the material of his underwear while circling his waist with your arm, bringing his body closer to yours.

You kissed the outline of his cock, easily finding the tip through the thin fabric of his boxers and pressing your warm lips against it. “Ahh,” he hisses and places his hand on the back of your head, stroking it softly.

The hand around his waist drops to his thigh, squeezing softly as you place wet kisses all over his twitching dick. “Tease much?” He chuckled through a moan, his head drifting to the side as he watched your lips pressing softly against his hard-on.

You froze at his words. You weren’t intentionally teasing him. You were just scared to make the next move. “I-I’ve never,” you trail off shyly, silently praying he’d get what you were insinuating.

“Really?!” He sounds like he’s shocked, and you don’t know if that’s a bad or good thing, but you take it as good and move on. “I mean, we can skip this part if it makes you uncomfortable, baby.” he looks down at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb softly.

You shook your head back and forth cause you wanted to go down on him the same way he did for you and return the favor.

“No? Okay,” he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it, but he’d never push for it if it made you feel apprehensive in any way.

“N-no, I want to. I just,” you sighed from your inexperience, feeling a little embarrassed and disappointed with yourself for your lack of knowledge about this. “Can you show me how?”

“You want me to show you how I like it?” You nod immediately after his question, and he hops off the bed, lowering his pants all the way and taking them off. He reaches into his bedside drawer, grabbing a condom, and placing it on his nightstand for later use.

He took your spot on the bed, lying against the frame, feeling honored that you’re letting him be your first. “Come here,” he beckons you closer with his index and middle finger. You crawled next to him, and he placed his hand on your lower back, bringing you in for a quick make-out session to ease you into it, and he was a really good kisser. You were already aching for him just from the feeling of his tongue playing with yours.

He pulled away, leaving you wanting more, with a look of desire in his eyes. His lips were shiny with a mix of his and your spit, and you settled yourself between his legs, your hands shaking slightly as you pulled his hard cock out from the confines of his underwear. He was hot and pulsing to the touch, and the lamp on his nightstand highlighted the head of his cock that was shining with precum. “Go at your own pace, baby,” he says softly when he notices the slight nervous look in your eyes, and his words almost immediately calm you down. He leaned back a little and rested his arms behind his head, getting comfortable as you slowly stroked his dick up and down. “Yeah, just like that,” he whispers and closes his eyes, letting you do what you’re comfortable with.

You unknowingly lick your lips at the sight, mouth almost dripping saliva. As your body reacted on its own, you lowered your head and eagerly suckled the precum off his tip.

His body tensed from the sudden sensation, and when you heard him groan, you quickly halted your movements.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly and just above a whisper.

“No, no, I liked that,” he assures you and places his hand over yours, helping you get used to the motion of stroking him off. “Suck on it some more,” he says as he gets comfortable once again.

You repeated your actions, wrapping your lips around his wide cock head where more precum was already leaking out.

“Hmm yeah fuck” he closed his eyes, head tilting back as you sucked him off. “Sure this is your first?”

You hum in response, your mouth obviously too busy with his hard wet cock to respond with your words.

“Shit, your fucking mouth feels so good, baby. Don’t even gotta teach you,” he says, and that just makes you take him down your throat, eager to impress him more. “Oh fuck!” He whimpers and looks down at his dick buried almost balls deep in your mouth. “Y/n,” he moans your name weakly, and you swear your pussy dripped at just the sound of his pleasured voice.

You stroked the base of his cock, squeezing slightly as you swirled your tongue on the tip licking up the fresh precum that continued to seep out.

His hips jerked up off the bed, abs tensing as you hollowed your cheeks and lodged his tip in the back of your throat. It was so tight and so warm that he couldn’t hold off from cumming. “Keep sucking me, baby. I'm so close fuck, where do you want it?” He squirmed in the bed, staving off as long as possible before he came.

You only make a sound of approval, the pace of your movements naturally increasing the more vocal he gets, and soon he was moaning out so loud as warm spurts of cum gushed inside your mouth and coated your tongue. “Hmph,” you moan around his dick, eyes rolling back to the back of your head as his cum streamed down your throat.

“Fuck yes,” he pants, his cum still filling your mouth, and he tasted so good you swallowed every single drop for his and your pleasure before you pulled off of his throbbing dick, still stroking him through his high until he was finished in your mouth.

He was breathing heavily. Mouth parted just enough for whiny little moans to slip out. “Fuck me,” he huffs as you pull away, kissing his tip one last time. “That felt so good,” he says, voice still a little hoarse from moaning so loudly.

His eyes were lidded, his forehead covered in sweat as he reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully opening the package.

You eyed the condom packet, not all too excited about using one cause you wanted to feel him raw, completely bare, nothing but the feeling of him deep inside of you.

He placed the rubber on his tip and began to slide it down his shaft, but you interrupted him before he could get it on. “No condom,” you whisper, taking it from his hands and tossing it to the floor.

“You wanna do it raw?” He asked to make sure it was what you really wanted, and you nodded, placing a few soft kisses on his thighs. If you were okay with it, so was he. He’d be an absolute idiot to say no to feeling you raw. “Okay, then, pretty girl, lie down for me, yeah?” You lie down, and he gripped the top of your dress, easily sliding it up your body. Pleasantly surprised when he saw you braless, he bit his lip at the sight of your perfect breasts and dragged the material all the way off your body, leaving you completely naked as he maneuvers on his bed, kicking off his boxers before laying on top of you both your clothes now discarded and strewn across his bedroom floor.

He lined himself up with you perfectly, slowly rubbing himself on your pussy, wetting his cock in your essence as your lips came together in a messy kiss.

He hums into your mouth, fully indulging in the way you suck on his bottom lip, and nibble on it slightly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, hands on his pecs as he rolled his hips, pressing his tip on your hole. He looks at you for confirmation, when you nod and whisper a quiet yes. He immediately slips in, his tip dipping inside your little wet hole. He takes it nice and slow, filling you up inch by pleasuring inch, easing himself within your heat until he bottomed out and stuffed you perfectly with his thickness. “So f-full heeseung,” you breathe out, your legs feeling numb already, and he hasn’t even moved yet.

He gripped your thighs, slowly bucking his hips forward, giving you time to get used to the feeling of him stroking inside you. “Fuck you’re so wet” his length throbs inside you, and he could feel he was already so close to cumming your walls, so hot and slick, welcoming him in with no resistance.

You squirm in his bed, still getting used to his size, as he rolls his hips steadily.

He bites his lip and hikes your legs up to your chest, pushing them up with his palms so you can feel him deeper on this angle. The way you gasp from the intrusion makes his cock throb even harder, and he can’t help but feel good knowing he’s the one making you feel so much pleasure. “This feel okay?” He asks with a shaky breath, making sure you’re still feeling good and comfortable. Too bad he wasn’t like this with you outside of the bedroom cause if he was, you’re sure you would have fallen for him by now.

“Perfect, hee” his abs and v lines looked so good while he rocked his hips fucking his cock deeper and deeper into your wet cunt.

He takes your ankle in his hand once again, bringing your foot to his mouth so he can suck on your pretty toes while fucking your sweet pussy. His eyes fall shut, moaning in delight as he partakes in every square inch of your body.

“Oh god,” you whimper pussy tightly squeezing around him from the pleasure.

You locked eyes with him, and you could’ve cum from his stare alone. You never thought it would be so hot to fuck someone that you were at odds with.

You trailed your hands along his sides until they met his sweaty chest, and you gave into temptation pinching his hard nipples between your fingers as he pounded your cunt, going even faster with the added stimulation of your fingers.

He moans around your toes, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he drills your cunt his thighs slapping against yours and his balls hitting your ass with every rough slam of his hips.

Drool pools in his mouth, as his head craned to the side, and it was getting to be just too much for him to handle. He felt himself twitching within your warmth, knowing he was seconds away from his breaking point. “Shit,” he pulled away from your toes a bit reluctantly and lowered himself down on his elbows as he stroked your silky wet walls. “Baby?” He breathes out quickly, feeling closer and closer with every hot pulse of your perfect pussy. “where should I cum?” He whines and rests his forehead against yours.

You wrapped your arms around him, fingernails digging into his upper back as he bottoms out over and over again.

He reaches his hand down, thumb flicking your engorged clit. “Cum in me, heeseung, please,” you begged him, desperately wanting nothing more than to cum around his cock and have him fill you up to the brim.

“Want me to cum in it, yeah? Fill that little pussy, huh? Stuff you full of me?” He groans, the dirty talk going straight to his sensitive dick, and all it takes for him to cum is the sound of your pleading voice.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant with your lips pursed in pleasure. A few more deep strokes, and you both reach the end as he circles your clit you and him finishing right at the same time. “Hee, I’m coming,” you cry out, and he attacks your lips, muffling your noises with his hot, messy kisses.

“Me too, baby,” he pants while moaning into your mouth. The two of you are barely even kissing at this point, just exchanging saliva and heavy breaths as he fills you up and your walls milk him for every last ounce of his creamy cum.

The pulsations between your body reach their peak, and you both sigh in pleasure, low whines leaving your lips as the sensitivity starts to settle in. He slows his pace, stroking you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing as well, careful not to over-stimulate you. “Oh, y/n, you feel so good, I’m cumming so much,” he whispers in your mouth, still messily kissing you in between broken words.

“Hee,” You placed your hands on his butt pulling him closer to you, making him fill you up to the absolute brim with his cock and cum.

He breaks the kiss, face falling into the crook of your neck as you both try to catch your breaths.

You both laid their pupils dilated and bodies shaking, feeling numb from the euphoria overtaking your mind, body, and senses.

“Shit,” heeseung sighs as he slowly pulls out of you, watching your clenching hole drip his release and if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight to him.

He rolls over on his back, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments. “That was actually so amazing,” he chuckled to himself.

“Actually?” You scoffed, and just like that, he was back to his assholish self, not to say you cared. The sex was great, and that’s all tonight was about anyways, not your guy's beef or his shitty attitude. “It wasn’t too bad,” you reply, and now it’s his turn to look at you and scoff.

“What do you mean “not too bad?” you shrugged.

“It means what I said.” he shakes his head in disbelief, wondering why you had to put up a front when you obviously enjoyed it, but whatever.

“Should I drive yo-” Before he could finish, you were already on top of him, straddling his waist.

“I think you should fuck me again,” you smirk, feeling bold suddenly as you trail a finger down his chest to his abs.

He grabbed your waist easily, flipping you over on your back and getting on top of you, pressing his lips on yours. “You sure it was just “not bad?” He says against your lips, teasing you with his words.

“I might need a little refresher,” you said playfully, and he laughed, reconnecting his lips with yours.

Let’s just say you made a personal record of how many times you both made each other cum that night.

-

You woke up in Heeseung’s bed, the light shining from behind his white sheer curtains blinding your eyes. You immediately closed them, grabbing the sheets and covering up. You groaned softly as you stretched out, all the events from last night rushing through your mind, and you didn’t regret not one bit of it.

Heeseung naturally woke up from the unusual ruckus, rolling over on his side and seeing you lying in bed next to him.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, muscles aching from how much energy he exerted on your body last night. He might have gone a little longer than he should have, but it was so worth it. Your pussy was like heaven even when he went soft, he couldn’t help but get hard again and again, and again you and your body were just too fucking perfect for him to sto-

“Eww,” you say upon seeing his sleepy face. It was the furthest thing from Eww, he looked even more handsome in the morning, but you said it just to annoy him.

He sighs, deciding not to fight with you this early, and sits up, blinking the sleep away from his eyes as they fall on his nightstand clock. Needless to say, you were both already running late for class. “Shit, we’re gonna be late,” he groans and extends his arms stretching out his muscles while yawning.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly ripped off the sheets, springing out of his bed, hoping you wouldn’t be tardy after only being there for a short period of time.

Heeseung did the same, neither of you caring about the other. Seeing your naked body, you saw literally every single inch of each other last night from probably every angle, so it didn’t much matter.

You both haphazardly threw on your clothes, trying your absolute best to arrive on time. “I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” he mentions, sleep still in his eyes as he pulls up his pants, and you quickly run to the bathroom before him to relieve yourself.

He shook his head in disbelief that you automatically helped yourself to his bathroom, but he was too tired to give you a piece of his mind.

You quickly swung the door open when you finished, and Heeseung joined you soon after, standing beside you. You couldn’t help but blush from all the marks you left all over his chest last night.

Luckily, he was too occupied washing his face to notice your obvious stare, and you’re thankful for it.

You both brushed your teeth in silence, heeseung squeezing a dollop of toothpaste on the toothbrush he gave to you, and you’re sure he’s just tired, and that’s why he did that cause the heeseung you know, would never do anything nice for you if anything he probably would have squirted it all over your head knowing him.

Once his teeth were all clean, he slathered some deodorant under his armpits and sprayed some cologne. You couldn’t blame him for not taking a shower, though, cause if he did, then he’d definitely be late, which in turn would make you late cause he was your ride, and you couldn’t have that happening.

After you both somewhat put yourselves together, you left his appartment getting into his car, and making a quick pit stop to your house on the way there to get your supplies. Then, after that you were headed to your destination.

Heeseung soon pulled up to the front of the school to drop you off first, and you unbuckled your belt, quickly exiting his car. “Don’t follow me inside” you point your finger at him and he rolls his eyes.

“I wouldn’t want to be caught dead next to you,” he replies harshly as you slam his door shut. He shook his head in disbelief and found a parking space after dropping you off at the door.

As soon as you enter, you see your group of friends waiting for you both at the gate. You went to them first, and Heeseung was trailing after you just minutes later, which looked kinda suspicious and even more suspicious because you both looked wrecked, but at least you were on time.

“Hey, you two finally made it.” Jay was the first to greet you both.

“You two look like shit,” Jake adds with a chuckle.

“Thanks,” you and Heeseung both say and glare at him at the same exact time.

“Woah,” Jake chuckled and put his hands up in defense.

“Where did you both go? I saw you at the party, but I didn’t see you leave,” Yeji asks, concerned. “And you didn’t even text me,” she pouts.

“Sorry,” You gave Heeseung a look, trying to come up with something other than the truth cause if you told them what actually happened last night, you’re not sure if you could ever show your face again. There’s no way they’d let it go, especially Jake.

“She got too drunk like an idiot, and I gave her a ride home,” Heeseung says nonchalantly.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re both here at the same time,” Karina said, raising a suspicious brow.

“Her parents were asleep, so she spent the night at mine,” he tells a little white lie.

“Ahh,” she nods in understanding. “So, does this mean you two are good now?” Karina wonders.

“NO!” You both yell at the same time again, and they all look at you, smiling teasingly.

“Look, it’s so cute they even say the same thing together,” Yeonjun cooed.

“Do you not remember this bastard literally embarrassed me and poured beer all over my head at the party 'cause I took the spotlight off him?” You say through gritted teeth.

“If you weren’t busy being a fucking attention whore that would have never happened” heeseung rolls his eyes.

“Me? Says the guy who can’t eve-“

“Okay, okay,” Yeji breaks it up. Class would be starting soon, and there was no need for the drama. “He apologized. What’s in the past is in the past. If you guys can’t get close, then fine, but just be civil with each other.”

“Tell that to her. She’s the one always starting it,” Heeseung rebuttals.

“Wait, when did this start?” Sunghoon whispers, scratching his head, confused as to when you and Heeseung became enemies.

“After the first party,” Jake whispered back, and Sunghoon nodded in understanding, watching you both go back and forth like toddlers.

“How? You’re the one tha-“

“GUYS!” Yeji cuts you off again, causing you and Heeseung both to let out a long sigh.

“Whatever,” you slung your bag on your arm, going to your first class before you were late, and unfortunately, heeseung would be there with you too. “You’re such a fucking liar,” you say as you walk side by side, forced to be in his company after you walk away from your friends.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he smiles brightly. “Should I have told them we fucked each other like animals all night long, and I have marks to prove it?” He replies sarcastically, his fake smile immediately disappearing.

You cringe at his choice of words, but it was true. “Not that you idiot, I’m talking about you saying I started whatever this is between us.”

“You did,” he shrugs, and before you explode, you enter class. unfortunately, the only free seat is next to him, and your day was already ruined before it even started.

-

The whole day, it was like you couldn’t avoid him. He was literally everywhere being annoying with that ugly, rotten attitude of his.

“Oh, my goodness, shut up,” you groan in annoyance when you hear him going on and on about his rank in a video game. You were just trying to study your notes at lunch in the cafeteria, but he just kept going. You supposed you could have gone to the library, but he could have also shut the fuck up.

“Why don’t you shut up? No one is even talking to your ass,” he snaps back, 'cause this time, he couldn’t just let you get away with being a total bitch to him.

“Exactly, so leave. Go talk somewhere else.” You rolled your eyes.

“Why don’t you go somewhere else? Pretty sure you won’t be missed, especially by me,” he argued back.

“Funny coming from the guy who was literally bothering me all morning,” he laughs in disbelief. You literally did that to him, and now that he did it back to give you a taste of your own medicine, you were making it sound like he was the one with the problem.

“Oh shut up,” he replies while your group of friends just laugh at the situation. You both sounded like five-year-olds having a fight on the playground.

“You shut up,” you reply, and of course, he had to have the last word.

“You shut up.”

“Ugh,” you rubbed your temples, feeling a headache coming on, and you just got up to go to the library instead of hearing another word from this walking pile of heaping garbage.

But before that, Jay had to say quite literally the stupidest shit a person could ever say. “You guys are cute together.”

“What the fuck, Jay? Whose side are you on?” Heeseung angrily replied.

“Jay, take that back before I hurt you.” You held your backpack up, making it look like you were going to hit him with it.

He laughs and puts his hands up, surrendering to your wrath. “Woah woah, I’m on side, heey/n.”

“ME TOO!” Karina shouts out of nowhere before burying her head in her hands, trying to soothe her hangover from last night.

“I second,” Sunghoon joins in, which is just great. He was mainly quiet, but now even he had to get himself into it, which you didn’t appreciate.

“I third,” Yeonjun saluted for who knows what reason.

“I forth,” Jake said, and you felt utterly betrayed cause he always had your back, or at least you thought so.

“Jay!” You and Heeseung say at the same time, with the same tone and same expression, and neither of you could understand why all of them were suddenly entertained by Jay’s stupidity.

“See?! You’re both Perfect for each other.” Jay smiles and claps his hands excitedly.

“I think you’re onto something,” Yeji agrees.

“And here I am thinking I have a best friend, tsk.” You yanked up your bag and headed to the library for some peace and quiet cause not only was Heeseung being stupid, but so were your friends. You’d sooner kiss dirt before liking him.

“What the hell is her problem? How are you even friends with it?” Heeseung asks seriously.

“I think it’s all just a big misunderstanding, and you should talk it out like adults,” Jake suggested, and Yeonjun snorted loudly at the unfathomable idea.

“When cows fly,” heeseung watched you leaving the cafeteria in disgust with his arms folded.

“I’ll have you know it’s actually when pigs f-“

“It’s all the same shit!” heeseung agitatedly cut Jake off mid-speech.

“Well, no, he’s actually right cause cows a- “

“Karina, are you or are you not still hungover?” Heeseung closes his eyes, taking a deep breath while trying to compose himself.

“Yes”

“Then maybe, and this is just a thought.” Heeseung turns to glare at her. “Stop talking.”

“I’ll get right on it, Jake,” she replies to Heeseung in all seriousness, and he can only sigh before resuming his conversation with Sunghoon about his little video game because he had given up on the rest of them for today.

-

Days like that persisted on and on. It was nonstop bickering from you two, so much so that your friends even got a headache whenever you were both together at lunch. At first, they all thought it was cute, but now that it was an everyday occurrence, it wasn’t so cute anymore.

“I liked it better when you two didn’t talk to each other,” Jay groans while covering his ears, but his words are drown out by your endless arguments.

“Just do me a favor and stop talking to me.” You folded your arms and turned your head to the side, ignoring heeseung.

Heeseung’s eyes softened a bit, but his words remained just as harsh. “Okay, and please do the same for me 'cause I’m tired of putting up with you.”

The table suddenly got all quiet, and you heard someone clear their throat after a few seconds.

“So it’s Sunday in a few days,” Yeonjun announced. “You know what that means.”

“PARTY!” everyone shouts, but you and heeseung, you both turned and slightly looked at each other, remembering the events of the last party before turning away and popping your mouths at each other.

“You’re coming again, right heeseung?” He nodded his head to Jake’s question, his mind a little too preoccupied with what had happened between you and him last time.

“Alright, full house, and Jay is the designated driver this time!” Yeonjun exclaimed and jay rolled his eyes at the news. “At least serve me fruit punch” he sulks.

“All you can drink,” Jake pats the sulking boy on his shoulder.

-

The party definitely wasn’t as good as last time, maybe because it wasn’t new to you anymore or maybe it really wasn’t as good as the first one, who knows.

You talked with Jeongin a bit, as well as your other friends, but after about an hour, it was getting to be pretty boring. And you already wanted to go home, but since you didn’t have a ride, you just waited it out a bit cause you didn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.

“What do you know? Your mouth is finally shut.” Heeseung walks over to you for the sole purpose of annoying you, or at least that’s what it seems like to you.

“What do you know? You’re annoying me again,” he chuckled as he took a seat next to you.

“So much for keeping your mouth shut,” he sighed.

“Heeseung, you’re the one who’s talking to me. Don’t you think it’s you who needs to keep your mouth shut?” You said and tilted your head back, taking the last swig of your stale-tasting beer.

“Shut it for me then,” he stated nonchalantly and sipped from his blue solo cup. He made sure no one else was watching before he gripped your wrist and placed your hand on his upper thigh, stroking it softly as he bit his lip at the contact. “Come on, we both know you can,” he entices you.

You didn’t see why you shouldn’t accept the offer. It’d be a thousand percent better than drinking cheap beer and sitting by yourself, and bonus points cause Heeseung wouldn’t be annoying you all night. “Lead the way.”

-

“Fuck baby, keep going, that’s it, keep fucking going,” heeseung cursed from the way you were making him feel. Your pretty, plump lips wrapped around his thick cock while you lay between his legs was a sight to see. The image alone made his dick jump in excitement as you sucked him off like it was your favorite thing to do. “Mouth is finally doing something useful, baby,” You rolled your eyes at him, and even though your mouth was full of cock you still found a way to give him attitude. “Wow,” he laughs in disbelief.

You wanted him to shut his stupid mouth, so you cupped his balls, caressing them softly while lapping at his tip, something you noticed that drove him absolutely crazy. “Ah ah fuck!” he moans, hands clutching the sheets while you kiss the sensitive head of his dick. You hum in satisfaction, your other hand stroking his shaft up and down while you hollow your cheeks and slurp on his cock, taking it in your throat inch by inch. “Oh yeah, y/n, just like that,” he pants, his sweaty abs tensing as he feels warmth building in his lower abdomen. “Uh oh god,” he throws his head back against the bed frame, a soft thud following after. “Cumming” he breathes out, eyes rolling back in his skull as you suck him dry, pumping his base until his balls are empty and your mouth is full. “Slower fuck, p-please slower,” he begs softly, the sensitivity becoming too much for him. You gradually decrease your pace, caressing his length until his orgasm fades, and of course, you have to swallow his delicious cum.

“So good,” you whisper. You just can’t help yourself from saying it as you lick your lips clean of his release.

He smiles almost shyly while you practically savor the taste of him on your tongue, and if he had to guess, he’d say you enjoyed that as much as he did. “Wanna switch?” You shake your head no cause it wasn’t necessary for him to give you head just cause you gave it to him, but apparently, that’s not how he saw it. “Wanna return the favor though, Can I eat you out?” he slowly runs his fingers down your spine while he awaits your answer. “Please?”

“I’d be a fool to say no,” he grins while you switch positions. He levels his face with your cunt getting ready to make you cum in his mouth over and over again.

-

He didn’t just eat you out. He made you cum on his tongue three times while his thick fingers fucked you open for the main event.

You were shaking in pleasure, tears almost falling from your eyes cause his mouth felt too good. He sucked your clit fingered your sloppy hole and licked you absolutely clean, and he did a lot more than just return the favor. By the time you came for him the third time, you could have sworn you were on cloud nine.

“Shit, baby could eat you out all day,” he says after licking your hole one last time, making sure not a drop of your precious essence went to waste.

You would let him, too, cause it felt so good you could just imagine waking up and having him eat you out first thing in the morning. Now, that would be a way to start your day. “Hee,” you moan, running your hand through his damp hair.

He climbs over you, puckering his lips for a kiss, and you gladly accept quiet smacking sounds filling up his room, and you can’t ignore the feeling of his erect cock brushing against your thigh.

He repositioned himself, hands beside your head as he humped against your clit, drawing out the cutest of sounds from you. “Hurry, hee, put it in,” you whine and dig your fingers into his chest, desperate to feel him inside you already.

“Little demanding, aren’t we?” He teases his tip right where you need him most, but he doesn’t push his hips forward just yet.

“Just shut up and stick it in,” you respond, not in the mood for his games when you were in bed with him and you needed him this bad.

“So annoying.” he rolls his eyes, sheathing himself within you, setting a pleasuring pace from the start.

You gasped from the sudden invasion, but soon, you relaxed, allowing him to push in all the way to the hilt. You felt like one with how he molded himself so deep within you, the shape of his cock filling up every single inch of your walls perfectly. “Fuck” you huff out a short breath. “Hee,” your hands run along his chest. The marks you left before still not healed, but he’d be more than okay if you gave him new ones cause it would just solidify that he was fucking you right.

“You get so fucking wet for me,” he grunts, watching himself going in and out, his fingers digging into the sheets. “Look at it” he lifts the back of your head up from his pillows, making you watch him go balls deep in your pussy. “Making a mess for my dick, pussy just begging to be fucked”

“Yes, heeseung, please fuck me harder,” you beg with no shame.

He speeds up his movements right away, the bed frame rocking against the wall as he ruthlessly fucks into you. “Gonna fuck you so deep” he grips your hips, going at it with hard, precise thrust hitting that spot that makes you go crazy. “Feel good?” He can tell it does by the faces you make. “You love it fast and deep, huh?“

You nod frantically, anticipating everything he’s about to do to you. “Fuck me, heeseung fuck me,” you whine senselessly, which only turns him on even more.

Skin-on-skin echoes in the room, the wet, sticky sounds between your bodies making the act even hotter.

He quickens his pace even more, dick fucking into you so hard and fast you barely get a moment to catch your breath.

And just like that, out of nowhere, your orgasm builds at the speed of light. “Heeseung,” you mewl, hands gripping tightly on his biceps, and your fingers dig into the flesh, leaving little red indents in his skin just like he wanted.

“Yeah, pretty?” He answers, his face going to your neck to lightly suck on the skin but careful not to leave any marks.

“Need to cum” he moans softly, hand trailing down to play with your clit so you can cum even faster.

“I have you, baby,” he pants, circling your bud and massaging your walls with his perfect cock head. “Don’t hold it in, baby. Show me how much you like it.” Your legs instinctively tighten around his waist, unable to stop your muscles from contracting around him. You make incoherent sounds, begging him to pound into you harder and harder. “Harder? Such a dirty girl,” he giggles, using his full strength to plunge as deep in you as possible, kissing your cervix with his tip until your mouth hangs wide open, and the only thing that comes out is high-pitched moans of his name. “Feels so fucking good, shit, y/n, love this pussy so much,” he chokes out, sweat beads cascading down his body, his arms flexing as he drills you just the way you been craving for all week, even though you wouldn’t admit it, you could still feel his cock in you days later that’s just how good he was. “Cum with me” he kissed your lips, stilling inside you while he throbbed with every drop of cum he put inside you.

“Yes,” you mumble on his lips, hissing in pleasure, your hands stroking his muscular arms as your high takes over, and your moans sound so lewd, so loud, so filthy, but he loved every last second of it.

“There you go,” he whispers, his hot, heavy breath fanning your flushed cheeks.

“Hee,” you tremble in pleasure, body overwhelmed with the many orgasms he gave to you, and feeling his warm cum spilling inside you was just the icing on the cake.

He exhaled a deep breath, wincing in overstimulation as he pulled out. You both parted from each other, taking a minute to rest and catch your breaths.

Neither of you say it, but you both think about doing that again and again and again.

-

The bickering doesn’t end, and neither does the sex and as time goes on, things only amplify between the two of you, much to your friend's horror.

“I thought I told you not to talk to me,” you say to Heeseung, who was annoying you at lunch just cause he could.

“Maybe I would if you weren’t staring at me like you fucking hate me,” he tsked.

“Well, at least you have one thing right, I do fucking hate you” Heeseung turns to you with a different expression on his face than the usual annoyed one, and for once, he doesn’t fight back. He just keeps his mouth shut and looks down at his barely touched-lunch.

The table goes awkwardly silent, and no one says anything after that for about a solid minute or three, give or take.

“W-whatever,” heeseung clears his throat and grabs his backpack to leave cause the air suddenly felt too stuffy for him to be in.

“Well, that was a bit much,” Yeji says.

“Agreed,” Jake whispers quietly. “He kinda looked like he was hurt.”

“Much? He throws beer on my head, and no one says anything, but I say I hate him, and that’s a bit much. And his feelings are hurt? What about my feelings?” You scoff in disbelief.

“I don’t know. I mean, hate is such a strong word, you know?” Jake replied.

Enough of this, you thought to yourself and moved on to a topic that wasn’t stressful.

“Anyways, do you guys want to come with me? I have to go shopping later.” You start packing your things and getting ready to leave for your upcoming class.

“DOWN!” Jake shouts, and you chuckle.

Thank goodness you’d have some company because then that would keep your mind off that six-foot thing named Heeseung.

-

As much as you wanted him off your mind when Sunday rolled around and you made eye contact with him at yet another party, you couldn’t help yourself. Sex quickly became a routine for you both. Neither of you are the party type to begin with, but you both attended because you knew one another would be there and it would be quick access to sex, so it only makes sense to go to these events link up and go back to his place to fuck each other all night long.

“Hurry, hee,” you say breathlessly as he undoes his pants and pulls them down swiftly, tossing them in the pile of your guys discarded clothes.

He chuckled softly. “For someone who hates me, you sure want me pretty bad,” he gets on top, holding the base of his cock and rubbing your clit with his wet tip.

“Be quiet and fuck me. That’s the only thing you’re good at, and for the record, I don’t want you, just your dick” You gripped the pillows behind your head, back arching as your body heats up with want the longer he teases his tip on your clit.

“You get on my fucking nerves,” he slides it in, leaving you both breathless, and despite the fact that these hookups have been going on for a little over a month, you just can’t get enough of the way he feels so deep inside you, and he can’t get enough of how well you take him and how wet you get just from his single touch.

“Apparently not enough.” Your head falls back as your body relaxes under his.

“That makes two of us,” he breathed out, hoisting your legs on his shoulders as he bucks his hips forward extremely slow, giving you deep strokes until you’re panting and begging him for more. “More? I’m already giving it to you, sweetheart. What more could you possibly want?” He smirks down at your flustered face, and he finds it impossible not to think you looked so beautiful under him, taking every last inch of his hard dick.

“Hee,” you whine, tugging on his blankets. The slow pace was killing you. Your body was overheating. You could feel little tingles all over your skin, and all you wanted was for him to take you raw and make you cum on his cock over and over again as he filled your hole with his cum.

“Hmm, baby?” He leans down and kisses your lips softly. His hands knead the sweaty flesh of your thighs as he slides in and out, his whole shaft slick and creamy with your wetness.

He continues to watch you struggle under him. You try to find the words, but every time you go to speak, he takes your breath away by thrusting particularly hard, only to slow back down and have you on the verge of tears from all his teasing.

“Hee pl-oh god,” Your body tenses, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you slowly get drunk off the feeling of his cock. Your walls were hot and pulsating, begging for him to make you cum, but he didn’t. He kept his slow pace till you completely fell apart for him.

“Hee-“ you gulp down your words, barely able to even keep your eyes open at this point. “F-fuck me harder, please,” You clenched around him so tight a deep groan emitted from his chest.

“Harder?” He picks up his pace ever so slightly, but you can’t complain. At least he was alleviating some of the ache between your legs. “Like this?”

“Hmm yeah, just like that,” you speak up, finally forming something coherent after getting a bit of relief, but your walls still ached to be fucked hard and raw.

“Yeah? Just like that?” He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you still while snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck yes, heeseung, oh my god, so good,” you whimper, muscles tensing with every thrust.

He grunts at your words, sweat slowly building on his hairline.

“So fucking big” You bite your lip, lost in pleasure and far beyond return. “Harder, harder, harder,” you punctuated the words every time he touched your cervix with the head of his cock, and he didn’t disappoint. He immediately started giving it to you harder, just the way you wanted.

Your toes automatically curled when he pulled his cock halfway out, only to slam it back in, making you see stars with each thrust. “Oh fuck” he says shakily, his rhythm slowly decreasing. How could it not when your cunt was sucking him in. “Hard enough?” There’s a soft smirk on his lips, and at this point, you’re at his mercy. The only thing you can do is nod your head, too fucked out to reply with anything other than his name. “Heeseung,” you chant his name over and over again, reminding him with every thrust that he was the one behind your immense pleasure. “I guess so,” he teased, and you wanted to say something smart in return, but you were just too far gone. He had you wrapped around his finger and around his cock. “Aww, come on, y/n, you always have something to say, don’t you? Always cutting me off at school and demeaning me whenever I talk. Where did that go to, hmm?”

You turn your head, the feeling of embarrassment creeping up on you, but he quickly grips your chin, tilting your head towards him, forcing you to look him in the eyes while you take his dick and his condescending words. “Stop,” you whisper, but your walls clench around him, saying otherwise.

“What happened to all the cold glares? You say you hate me, but I’m sure somewhere deep down you’re always thinking about me having you just like this fucking you hard and deep, filling you up so well you can’t even speak. Look at you so fucking desperate for my cock” he breathed through his nose, trying to steady his breath cause this was exciting him to no end. Seeing you so embarrassed but so needy for his cock made him go absolutely feral fucking into you so fast you almost couldn’t even take it. “Yeah, silent now, huh? Maybe you should try that more o-often.” Those are the last words he speaks to you until he goes completely wild, and all you can do is lay there limp and clutching tightly on his shoulders, little whines coming from your pursed lips when his tip bumps your cervix repeatedly.

“Cum-“ he lowers his body on top of you, shutting you up with a kiss.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, brows drawn together tightly, sweat beads dripping from his body to yours. His hand dips down between your shaking legs, rubbing your clit with his thumb, and the grip he feels on his cock when you clench around him almost makes him cum then and there, but he holds it off just a little longer, waiting for you to cum with him.

His hand slips behind your head, pressing your face impossibly close as he kisses you feverishly, teeth clashing, noses brushing against one another, and erratic breaths in between. “Cumming!” You shrill, your walls violently pulsating around him, giving him the green light to let go and flood your insides with his hot cum.

“Oh god, y/n, me too, me too,” he choked out, forehead resting against yours as your faces contort in pleasure.

Needless to say, neither of you were moving from that spot anytime soon.

-

You both went round after round till morning came, trading orgasms back and forth, and you thought the first night was a record of orgasms, but this night ended late in the morning, and you had so many orgasms you couldn’t count on your fingers as well as heeseung, he didn’t know the exact number but Judging by the way your bodies were numb and just how stuffed your cunt was of his cum he could tell it was a lot of times, he didn’t even know he was capable of having so many back to back.

The sex was great, amazing even, but you still weren’t fond of each other. It was obvious both of you wanted sex and more than just once a week, so heeseung, being the smart guy he is, divulges a plan. “Since we do this so often, I was thinking we could set some boundaries,” he declares after pulling out of you and handing you some wipes to clean yourself. He would have done it for you, but he knew you would have made him feel like shit for even offering.

“Like what?” You asked, wiping yourself clean and covering up with his sheets once you were finished.

“Like a contract, so to speak,” he shrugs.

“Okay?” You wait for him to continue.

“So since we both hate each other, things are obviously never going to escalate beyond just sex, but since we’re both single and available to each other, I think we should continue having sex for our satisfaction.” You nod to the first condition you wouldn’t mind continuing to have sex with him. “Like we can fuck and hit each other up whenever, just no strings attached, just purely sex.” he clarified.

“With you, I wouldn’t want to do anything else.” You make a fake puking sound.

“Anyways,” he says with an eye roll. “We can still date and fool around with other people, and if we find someone else we like, either of us can end the contract if we get into a committed relationship,” he says.

“Nope,” you simply disagree for not-so-obvious reasons.

“Why? You scared you might lose me to someone else?” He smiles.

“No,” you deadpan. “Just don’t want your diseases.”

“Damn, you think I just stick my raw dick in anything?” He pretends to be offended, but deep down, he is actually kinda offended. You’d think so lowly of him like that.

“You do it with me,” you shrug.

“I do it for you only~,” he says in a sing-song tone.

“Just continue,” you sigh.

“Okay! then no dating or hookups, and once fall hits, we’ll end it sound good?” He reached his hand out to shake yours for the first time ever, it reminded him of the day you first met and he can’t help but wonder what he did to make you hate him in the first place.

“Deal.” You shook his hand, sealing your deal. “What are you doing?” You asked when he started fishing around in his drawer.

“You know a contract has to have signatures right?” you shake your head in disbelief as he clicks the pen open and starts writing down everything you both just mentioned. “You want to add anything?”

“Yes, from now on, no talking unless we’re having sex.” You plopped down in his bed.

“Okay,” he whispered, writing it down. “Anything else?” He says, playing with the pen between his fingers.

“Also, no looking at each other,” you add.

“Y/n, stop being ridiculous. We can talk and look at each other just don’t be an asshole about it” he goes against your rules.

“I’m the asshole? What about you?” You sat up, getting ready to question him.

“What about me? I don’t do anything.” he tapped his open pen on his notepad casually.

“And see? This is why we can’t talk.” You got upset by his seemingly unfazed attitude and folded your arms.

“Cause you just can’t stop being full of yourself and making everything about you.” He shook his head. “Fine, no talking then.”

“And looking,” you add, making sure he doesn’t forget.

“So fucking childish imagine taking my dick but not looking at me ridiculous,” he laughed incredulously.

“I don’t see why you want to talk.” You threw your hands up in the air.

“I DON’T!” he immediately denies.

“Then shut the fuck up and finish the list so I can go home,” you groan.

He jots down everything, leaving open spaces in case someone wants to add something later on. He signs it and hands it over to you for your signature. “90 days of pleasure,” you scrunched your face upon seeing the title.

“What? You have a better idea?” He looked at you, annoyance clear on his face.

“No, it’s just who the hell names a contract.” You clicked the bottom of his pen, scribbling on the piece of paper.

“Me. Now just hurry up and sign it.” You wrote down your signature and handed it back to him, shaking on it one last time.

“So after 90 days, it will be fall, and our contract will be over,” he states to clarify, and you nod your head in agreement.

-

It had been five days exactly since you both signed the contract, and Heeseung was the first to hit you up.

Heeseung: You available?

You were at home lying on your bed when you received a text from Heeseung, and your heart rate picked up In anticipation of getting absolutely fucking railed by him cause you’d been so busy lately with school, and nothing screamed stress reliever like Heeseung’s dick.

You: Yes.

You reply back and go to your bathroom to freshen up and get ready for your dick appointment.

After you replied yes, heeseung ran a shower and tidied up his room a bit. It was never dirty, but a few things were out of place. He changed the bedsheets to the freshly washed ones in his closet and waited for your arrival.

You text him when you arrive, and he opens the door, allowing you to take off your shoes. As soon as the door shuts, he’s all over you, kissing you roughly as he pins you against the door and starts rubbing his already-stiffened cock on your thigh.

Yeah, this was going to be the best stress relief ever.

-

You woke up in the morning feeling rested and refreshed after getting some last night. You were about to get out of bed, but you found yourself wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, your face buried in his chest as he held you against his warm body.

You didn’t think much of it; it was probably just a habit he had when he slept, but one thing you noticed was how pretty he looked while sleeping.

His mouth was slightly pouted, his eyes closed, and the little labored breaths he let out that fanned your skin were so adorable. Too bad awake heeseung wasn’t like asleep heeseung.

You carelessly took his arms off of you and woke him up in the process.

He sat up a few seconds later, watching you getting ready to leave. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at the clock, seeing that it was still pretty early, especially compared to the one time when you were both running late.

He would have at least offered you some breakfast and a shower if you weren't so mean, but next thing you know, you'd probably accuse him of trying to poison your food or say his tap water was brown.

He reached for his phone on his lamp stand and unlocked it, the other hand going behind his head as he typed away on the screen with a smile on his face and a few giggles here and there.

You wondered who he was talking to so early in the morning and what made him laugh and smile so much, but you shook your head. You didn't care coming or going. You just wondered what his problem was with you. He got along with literally everybody else just fine except you.

Wordlessly, you got dressed and left his room. No words were exchanged between you two, just like you both agreed on the contract.

-

"Things are awfully quiet these days." Jay sparks up a conversation about the two of you, the whole friend group seemingly taking an interest in you and Heeseung for some odd reason. "So you both, like, really aren't talking?"

You shook your head no slightly.

"Why?" Jay questioned.

"Cause he hates me."

"Cause she hates me."

You both automatically glare at one another as soon as the words leave your lips.

"Oh, here we go. Why did you get them going again?" Yeonjun threw his head back in annoyance. All he wanted to do was eat in peace, but you both always had to start something at lunch. The only reason he was still even in the cafeteria was because Yeji was there. If she wasn't, he would have left because the two of you were getting on his last nerve.

Heeseung was fed up and frustrated, but all he could think about was having you in a compromising position, so the only thing you could say was his name and not that nonsense you just spewed out. He didn't fucking hate you. It was you who hated him.

He pulled out his phone right across from you, texting you to meet him in the janitor's closet. Your stomach turned with arousal, and you were so down to do it with him right now. He was your stress but also your stress reliever.

Heeseung abruptly left the table, leading the way to the closet first.

No one really thought anything of it cause he'd occasionally walk out whenever you two started arguing.

After five minutes, you discreetly left the table while the group was discussing something intensely more like Jake's motor mouthing all the drama going around at school right now.

When you knocked on the door, heeseung practically dragged you inside, slamming the door shut and pressing his lips against yours, his hand going up your skirt to play with your pussy right away, and he could already feel you had gotten a little wet.

His kiss was sloppy, and his hands were desperately groping your body. His movements were fast and rushed, almost like he couldn't wait a second longer to have you.

You moaned in his mouth, trying to keep up with him giving him the perfect opportunity to suck on your tongue as he slipped your panties to the side, rubbing his palm on your warm wet cunt.

Your knees buckled from his light touching, and he quickly turned you around, letting your hands rest on the wall that was now in front of you.

He stood tall behind you, hiking up your skirt around your waist and yanking your panties down to your knees. You listened to his belt buckle unclamp, and your pussy throbbed with excitement when you heard the material of his pants dropping to the ground.

He runs his smooth fingers over your folds, cupping your heat as you tilt your head back, moaning and granting him access to kiss all over your exposed neck.

His left hand reached around the front of your body so he could flick your clit a few times before sinking his two fingers inside you, scissoring you wide open, your little cunt already oozing white all over his thick fingers.

Always so wet, he thought to himself, pumping your hole faster and finger fucking your tiny cunt till you involuntarily came around his fingers, creaming his digits in just a matter of seconds while doing your best to cover your moans and hold yourself upright.

You were just a complete mess for him.

"Are you sure you hate me?" he talked against your ear, nibbling your lobe softly as He slipped his two fingers from your pulsing cunt to replace them with his cock. He rested his length on the crevice of your ass, his hands on your shoulders as he humped against you, the warmth of your ass inviting his wet shaft to slide back and forth agonizingly slow.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his veiny cock throbbing in need to be inside of you as he watched you all bent over, moaning from the feeling of him just putting it on you and not actually inside you.

He bends down slightly, aiming his leaky tip at your hole, and he finds it with no problem, slowly inching forward, going slower than usual cause the position he has you in.

He puts his palm on your lower tummy, one hand on your clit, rubbing it to get you off, his cheek pressed against your back as he completely loses himself in the feeling of your pussy, inviting him in so warm and so deep.

"Nothing to say?" He chuckles, keeping his pace steady and not too rough cause you both had to save your energy, given the fact you still had almost a full day of school and activities left.

You couldn't say anything. How could you when he was fucking you so good? The only thing you managed to do was whimper his name as your walls clamped helplessly around him, and you being completely speechless whenever you were with him seemed like it was becoming a new habit, one you didn't want to break anytime soon.

"That's what I thought." He winces as holds most of your weight, keeping you upright, and you're so thankful cause your legs were going to give up on you any second. "Just be quiet and take this dick that you love so much."

You both let out uncontrollable moans doing your best to keep them quiet for the most part as he slowly pumps your pussy to bliss. You clench around him so tight he feels light-headed. Needless to say, he's not gonna last much longer, and the idea of having a quickie with you at school just riled him up even further.

He circles your wet clit, and you arch your back instinctively, his tip hitting just a little deeper, turning you into a wet dripping mess as more of your leak drips down his shaft and coats his full balls.

It's no secret that you're cumming. The way you squeeze him rhythmically lets him know that it's not long before you experience the big O.

"Cumming” he whispers, eyes screwed completely while he stills inside your pussy, throbbing uncontrollably as he spews his hot cum into you right after you come undone around him and it always felt so much better when you both came together, at least to him, anyways.

After a few ragged breaths, the moment quickly ends, and he pulls out, grabbing his pants and tucking himself away while you do the same. He lets you leave first without a single word being exchanged between the two of you. He waits approximately seven minutes before coming out and meeting up with the rest of the group.

"You two are always showing up together" Karina notices. "Are you sure you guys aren't close, and you're not just putting on a show for us?" She grins.

You tense slightly when you hear what she says, but you quickly regain yourself despite feeling heeseungs residual cum sticking to your thighs. "No show is worth being involved with him." You roll your eyes, trying to keep up with the facade.

"That pretty much sums it up," Heeseung says, looking up at everyone with a smile on his face like his dick wasn't still stained in your cum from fucking your pussy just moments ago. "Where are we eating from after school? Cause I'm starving." he clasps his hands together, hoping his diversion tactic works, and it seemingly does when everyone starts fighting about where they want to eat from after class ends.

Next time, you'd both have to be a little more discreet than that.

-

Though it felt like yesterday when you signed the contract, it was already fall, and your 90 days go by in a flash. It was the best and worst 90 days of your whole life, all thanks to a certain someone.

You didn't get along with him, but you have to admit he was your guilty pleasure. He was just that good in bed. Whoever he marries is going to be one lucky girl. Sadly, you could only experience it for 90 days, but you'd take 90 days over nothing at all.

This was the last day you and Heeseung had together, and you were going to make the absolute most out of it.

You both were about fifty-fifty when it came to hitting each other up at all sorts of times and places at school. You'd both go to the bathroom and give each other head before returning back to your friends like nothing had ever happened, and none of your friends had ever caught on even though they were suspicious of you both all the time.

You loved the quickies at school, but the trips to the mall grew to be your favorite cause you and heeseung always made great use of the dressing rooms.

Good times.

You reminisce about the one time you and him were going back and forth per usual. "Is it just me or does anyone else feel annoyed whenever he talks?" Heeseung sighed deeply stopping in his tracks and turning towards you.

"Excuse us." Suddenly, he grabbed you by your wrist, leading you away from the group, and your friends were thankful that at least you could fight in private and not ruin the outing for once.

He took you to some random clothing store that you couldn't quite get the name of cause he already had you locked inside the dressing room, his large hands cupping your ass as he practically stuck his tongue down your throat.

"You just never know when to fucking stop," he groaned against your lips, sliding his hands up your skirt and yanking your black panties down to your ankles, his fingertips easily gliding between your damp folds.

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut as you gripped his shoulders for support as he teased your entrance. "Hee," you whine, head falling to the side while he licked a trail up your neck.

"Shush." he holds his unoccupied finger to your mouth as he slips one digit inside you, and even though he told you to shush, a helpless moan escapes your lips when he buries his finger knuckle deep in you. "Fuck baby, you gotta be quiet" he clenched his jaw, trying his best not to groan from feeling your warm little pussy clamped around his finger so tightly.

"Yes, fuck hee," he nips the skin of your neck, pulling his finger out of you cause the last thing either of you needed was to get caught, especially in public. "No," you whine at the loss, your walls clenching desperately, begging for him to go back inside you. "Please don't stop"

"Then keep that pretty little mouth shut for me, yeah?" you don't know why, but something about the aggressive yet softness in his tone turned you on so much you absentmindedly nodded your head, hand reaching for his wrist and guiding it back under your skirt. "No noise," he reminds you and stuffs your hole with not one but two fingers, and you're not sure how he expects you to keep quiet while he massages your walls with the pads of his soft fingers so well. "Like that, hmm, pretty?" he whispers, his large hand cupping your mouth to keep you quiet.

You nod again, moans getting muffled by his hand, and your eyes go crossed from the pleasure he makes you feel.

He pressed his thumb on your clit, his digits working inside you smoothly, running along your warm, velvety walls, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come on, give it to me. I know you want to," he whispers in your ear.

At the sound of his voice and his warm breath blowing against your face, your walls collapsed, squeezing around his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit in perfect circles, giving you yet another earth-shattering orgasm to add to your list.

Behind the dressing room doors, your muffled moans could be heard, and the lewd noises of him finger fucking your sloppy cunt.

He slipped his fingers out of you, gently pushing you back on the bench, making quick work of his jeans and belt, too impatient to take his underwear off.

He pulled out his cock from the tiny hole in front, dropping his pants to his knees, giving him just enough mobility to fuck you.

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of his perfect cock as you lay out, waiting for him to take you raw in the mall dressing room.

He bunched your dress around your waist, revealing your perfect cunt for his eyes to feast on as he grabbed the base of his cock, running it along your wet pussy lips.

Your legs circled around his waist, caging his midsection against yours. The angle wasn't ideal, but neither of you could care. You were far too worked up at this point.

His hands went to your waist, holding you in place as he started to fuck into you at a fast pace, and if the employees didn't hear your guy's moans, you're sure they were bound to hear the sound of his sweaty skin clapping against yours. "Shit," he breathed out, stroking your walls, and he couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact you felt ten times better every single time he had you. "So fucking wet and creamy baby," he grits through his teeth. "That turn you on, princess? Making me fucking mad? Down talking to me in front of everyone. Does that do it for you?"

You lay there limp, your hands hanging onto the bench for support. "Fuck” you moan, throwing your head back, relishing in the feeling of his thick cock hitting every single part inside you that makes your toes curl.

"It does, doesn't it? You like making me angry, so I fuck my frustration out on you?" You tighten around his girth, his words going straight to your pussy.

"N-no," you lie. If you were being honest, you did rile him up in hopes he'd take you off somewhere and fuck you back into place.

"Fucking liar," he breathed. "Your pussy is saying otherwise fucking squeezing me so tight I can barely even move" he moves his hands to your ass, tightening his grip as he lifts you up, your lower body no longer in contact with the bench, and you feel his dick hitting deeper and deeper. "Teach you not to interrupt me again," he goes even harder, bullying his tip past your tight gummy walls, invading your hole with his cock so deep you felt like you could feel him inside your stomach.

"R-right there, yes." he slows his pace the moment the words leave your lips.

"I thought I told you to be quiet. Why can't you just fucking listen, baby? You never listen." he starts moving again, and your moans increase in pitch. You weren't trying to, but how could you not scream in pleasure when he was fucking you just right. "You know what?" he sets your lower half down and hovers over you, mouth just inches above yours. "Open," he whispers, and he doesn't need to tell you twice. Your mouth automatically falls open for him. "Take it." he gathers a ball of spit in his mouth, saliva dropping from his mouth to your own to make sure you can't make another sound.

His hips fasten in pace as he lifts up his shirt tucking it under his chin to watch the dirty act of his cock getting buried in your raw creamy cunt. "Finally found a way to make you quiet," he smirks, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it softly.

You mindless nod your head, your brows furrowed in pleasure as his warm saliva rests on your tongue.

"Hmm, fuck, didn't know you could be this obedient for me" he pulled out halfway and collected more saliva in his mouth, spitting it on his shaft before sliding back in, making the wet noises between your conjoined bodies even louder. "Yeah," he breaths out. "Take it, baby, take it, take this fucking cock," he says, mesmerized by the thick white ring of arousal coating his base. His hips slowly losing rhythm, and when he looked at your blissed-out face, he lost it, his length throbbing at the sight of you holding his spit in your mouth while filled with his girthy cock. "All yours," he whispered through a moan, the words slipping past his lips absentmindedly in his dazed state.

He rubbed your clit faster, knowing he wouldn't last more than a few seconds longer. "Cum for me, C-cum on me, y/n," he moans softly. His words make you cum simultaneously with him, and you feel him release deep inside you, filling up your slick pussy with copious amounts of seed. "Good," he breaths out. "Swallow me," he whispers against your lips. You comply, unlike all the other times when you fought against him. His lips find yours in a messy kiss as you both indulge in your highs together.

Needless to say, from then on, you purposely riled him up so he could take his frustrations out on your body.

Sadly, that was just a memory, but you couldn't wait to get out of school today because you have been fiending for him.

You needed him like right now, but currently, Jay was holding you up, talking to you about something you couldn't quite pay attention to because your core ached for none other than Lee Heeseung.

And it didn't help when he walked past and saw you both talking together. You know you weren't supposed to be looking at each other because of the contract, but you couldn't help it, and you also couldn't help but clench around nothing at the sight of him, your eyes traveling to his crotch just thinking of all the things you wanted him to do to you or you wanted to do to him.

“Y/n?” Jay waves his hand in front of your face, trying to gain your attention.

"Hmm? Sorry, I must have spaced out," you giggle nervously, and luckily, Jay didn't seem to catch on to you shameless ogling his friend.

"So anyways, like I was saying," Jay goes on to tell you again, and you feel so bad 'cause you still just couldn't focus, not with Heeseung within twenty feet of you.

"Just look at her," Heeseung says, not being so discreet about looking at you, but fuck that part of the contract. It was stupid, respectfully. "I can't stand her. She's so fake you can see it all over her face," heeseung grumbles.

"I don't know man, she just looks like she's having a good time to me. Sure you're not just jealous that she's talking to Jay and not you?" Jake teases.

"Of course, I'm not. Why would I be? It's not like she's my girlfriend, and I don't fucking care what she does. All I'm saying is that she's fake as fuck. She acts all cute and bubbly with everyone except me, and then when I say something about it, she makes me look like I'm the crazy one," he rambles.

"You sure?" Jake pushed on.

"I'm sure, she can talk to whoever she wants, unlike her. I'm not desperate for attention," he says while stealing glances at you every now and then.

"Dude, do you even hear yourself? You're the only one bothered. You keep saying attention, attention, attention, but every chance you get when she's not around, you talk about her bringing even more attention to her." Jake can't help but point out the obvious.

"You know nothing at all, but you'll find out one day," heeseung says, total nonsense, and quickens his steps, getting in front of Jake to pull out his phone and text you so you could get out of jays face and in his, he definitely wasn't jealous or anything like that, he just didn't want anyone being manipulated by your double personality.

Immediately after receiving his text, you politely excused yourself from Jay, telling him you had to use the "restroom."

Once you make it inside, he pulls you into his body, quickly dropping to his knees, his hands working to pull down everything and eat you out. He does it sloppy, wet, and messy, but you don't care, too lost in pleasure to think of anything else other than his hot tongue slithering through your engorged folds.

He adds two of his fingers in the mix, running them along your soaked slit while sucking on your swollen clit with great enthusiasm humming and moaning at the taste of your wetness hitting his tongue.

He looked up at you, his round pretty eyes staring into your own as he finger fucked you. Your legs were shaking, knees slightly bent, and he wrapped his free arm around you, pulling you closer to his face and stabilizing your shaky posture. "Baby," you say in a daze-like state, hands resting on his broad shoulders while his mouth delivers heaven to your core.

He hums against your heat, flicking his tongue on your clit expertly until you come all over his warm tongue. "Heeseung, fuck me, so good, so fucking g-good," you stutter and grip the wall behind you for support, your other hand running through his soft hair and pushing his face even closer to your cunt as he cleans you with his tongue till every last drop is out of your pretty pulsing hole and down his throat.

He takes his fingers out of you sucking them clean of everything, and the sight already has you turned on again even though you just came, but you couldn't risk going another round and getting caught.

He helps you pull your panties up and straighten out your skirt. He stood up and grabbed the door handle, ready to leave, which had you confused, and despite the no-talking rule, you couldn't help but break it just this one time. "What about you?" You stood up along with him.

"We can't risk getting caught. You can make it up to me later if you want, okay?" he rushes out, hand twisting the knob of the door.

"But we always trade. Let me get you off and help you with your problem down there." You cupped his bulge, massaging him lightly through his jeans.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you love me," He jokes.

You don't bother responding, only sinking to your knees, making quick work of his pants. Once his bottom half is naked and exposed, you inhale his cock sucking him off to the best of your abilities to make him cum as fast as possible.

Which was only two minutes, and that was definitely record time. "Fuck, I'm cumming already," he pants, losing control over his hips as he fucks your throat carefully and holds your head in place while you suck his balls dry. "Shit baby," he sighs in pleasure, letting himself go, his head lulling to the side as he pats your hair. You bob your head, tongue moving in an up-and-down motion on the underside of his cock before you pull away, swallowing his cum like always; you kiss his tip, topping him off perfectly.

You helped him wear his pants correctly, just like he did with you. You gave him a flirty smile and a wink before you left the restroom, leaving him a frazzled mess from the head you just gave him.

-

Since that wasn't enough for either of you, later that same day, you both texted each other literally at the same time. Your text bubbles appeared on each other's screen, and luckily, heeseung was alone cause he had a goofy little smile on his face, but that's before he caught himself and realized the pain in the ass he was talking to.

You: My place or yours? My parents are out of town

Heeseung: Yours

He responds immediately. You two haven't done it there yet cause of your parents always being home, but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to have you begging for him in your bed.

-

The sun set and rose with heeseung still lying in your bed, and 90 days are now officially up.

"Good morning, y/n," Heeseung stretched out his limbs, yawning and draping his arm around you.

"Get the fuck off" You pried his arm off, and he chuckled. "And why are you talking to me?"

"Contracts up." Oh yeah, the contract. It's too bad it's over. You wouldn't have minded just a couple more days with him cause somehow 90 just simply wasn't enough.

You turned to him and admired him for a few seconds. You wished you just had at least one more day cause he looked so sexy in the morning with his sleepy eyes and bed head it took everything in you not to just go under the sheets and suck his-

"Well, I better go. You look like you'll burn holes through me with that stare," he awkwardly laughed and stood up from your bed, yawning as he got dressed for the day. After he had finished putting his clothes on, he reached into his overnight bag, pulling out the contract. "Guess we don't need this anymore." he walked back over to your bed, letting the sheet of paper fall on it.

"You guessed right." You grabbed it, ripping it in half and then again for extra measures.

"Did you really have to rip it?" He mumbled as he grabbed the torn paper off your bed, examining the damage you had done to it.

"It's just a stupid piece of paper." You threw the blankets over your head, groaning loudly, pretending that you weren't affected by this being your last day with him.

"Yeah, just a piece of paper." his lips formed a thin line, and he stuffed the little pieces of paper back into his backpack. "Bye, y/n." he reached for the doorknob and looked back at you one last time before leaving, assuming you'd say it back, but you never did. "You could at least say it back, you know." He stopped at your door.

"Can you please just get the fuck out? I would like to get some sleep without a pig snoring next to me," you sighed. He didn't snore, but you said it just to piss him off.

"Still a complete bitch, I see" You yanked the covers back, revealing your angry expression.

"And now I'm a bitch? Last time I checked, you were the one that hated me, and now you want me to say bye? Over my dead body," you plopped back down.

"I don't want you saying shit to me, but maybe just act like a normal fucking human being for once and not an asshole" he walked and slammed your bedroom door.

You sighed and flipped over on your bed, hoping to get some more sleep cause you could already feel today going like shit, complete shit, especially since you and Heeseung could talk to each other again.

-

Surprisingly enough, you didn't have any contact with Heeseung. He made sure to sit the furthest away from you. He didn't look at you nor scoff whenever you laughed, not even an eye roll.

You didn't know he was capable of leaving you alone, but you're glad he did. It's not like you missed your guy's daily banter every week.

"It's eerily quiet toda-"

"Jake shut the fuck up" Jay shoved him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, that's in the past," Yeonjun says with a full mouth while Yeji scolds him for not chewing his food properly.

"Does anyone have an extra eraser? I forgot mine." Heeseung looks up sheepishly from his notepad, ignoring the conversation prior to his question.

"I," Karina raised her hand, fishing out an eraser for him.

Your hand was already automatically reaching into your bag for one before she even said anything, but you dropped the eraser once she gave him hers. It's not like it bothered you that he was using hers and not yours; besides, you didn't want to share anything with him anyway. It was just a reflex, that's all.

You didn't even notice, but after a moment, you sighed, and when you did, Jake gave you a little knowing smile, but you tapped his shin under the table before he even started his nonsense, the smile quickly disappearing from his face.

"Thank you~" heeseung sings and goes back to doing whatever it was that he was doing.

"You're welcome," Karina replied while drawing some little figures on her piece of paper.

The rest of the day passed by like normal, and for the first time since you met you and Heeseung didn't fight, but for some odd reason, you just didn't feel like yourself, so you opted out of the plans you all had made earlier.

"You sure?" Jay asked once you all left school and were standing outside the gates. "We can always reschedule."

"No, it's fine. Just bring me something back," you tell him playfully.

"Will do," Jay chuckles.

"Well, bye guys, see you all next week," you bid your goodbyes to everyone.

"Hey, why don't I drive you?" Jay offers.

"NO!" Heeseung shouts, gaining the attention of everyone, and his ears turn a shade of pink. "I-I mean I'll drive her 'cause it's closer to my place, and I had to get something before we leave, you know?" He gulped eyes nervously shaking back and forth.

"We're just going to the store. What do you need at home?" Jay says, confused.

Heeseung stood there looking for a feasible answer, but he found none, and he could feel sweat starting to form on his palms and hairline.

"You said your wallet, right?" Jake nudged heeseung on the shoulder, silently telling him to play along.

"Y-yeah, oh yeah, my wallet," he laughs nervously.

"Don't you have the pay function on your phone-"

Jake quickly cuts Jay off. "His phone is dead, he told me earlier." Heeseung nodded immediately.

"Well, okay then," Jay gives you a small smile and waves bye to you one last time.

"Hurry up, let's go." Heeseung brushes past you while side-eyeing Jay in passing.

You follow behind Heeseung silently as he opens the door for you. "I can just walk."

Heeseung doesn't say anything and gets in the driver's seat, buckling in before driving you to your destination. When you get on the road, it's completely silent other than the calm music he plays on his radio. "You could," he replies to your statement at least five minutes later.

"Then, if it's all the same to you, I want to get out," you say, clearly not in the mood for his attitude.

"I'm not stopping, plus it's starting to rain, and the last thing I want is for you to blame me for why you get sick." he hits the brakes, slowing down for the red light.

"I don't care jus-"

"Don't start this today. Just take the ride" he shakes his head and presses the gas. Once the light turns green, you sigh in annoyance but remain silent after accepting the ride home.

He stops outside your house right at the curb, putting his blinkers on just in case. He then unlocked the door and reached over his console to unbuckle your belt and open the door for you. "See you at school tomorrow, y/n," he says as you step out of his car.

"See you" you whisper feeling awkward after finally acting somewhat civil with him for once, you walked up to your house and, he slowly pulled away once he saw you got in safely.

-

Everyone was gathered around the table at the cafeteria, eating in silence for once.

Jake is the first one to break the silence. "Hey hee, can I talk to you for a minute, like in private?" heeseung nodded to Jake and scooted his chair from the cafeteria table, following him to a quieter area.

"Mind telling me why you lied and have been avoiding me since the other day?" Jake raised a questioning brow.

"What do you mean?" Heeseung's eyes travel anywhere but Jake's.

"You know what I mean the other day when I saved your ass" Jake gives him a little refresher.

"Oh, that," heeseung chuckles awkwardly.

"Yeah, that, now give me an answer, Mr Lee" Jake puts his hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently.

"So it's kinda embarrassing, but if you must know, I had to go to the toilet," Heeseung lied.

"What's wrong with the school toilets?" Jake furrows his brows in confusion.

"I don't use them," he says quickly, which makes him look even more suspicious cause this was news to Jake. "And besides saves gas cause I'm closer to y/n's house so it just makes sense you know?"

"Hmm, mmm." Jake rubs his chin in thought, his eyes narrowing at Heeseung, trying to detect if he's lying, but he finds nothing. "Okay!" he smiles brightly and pats heeseung on the shoulder, leading them back to the cafeteria. "I thought you wanted to be alone with y/n."

Heeseung laughs breathily, a relieved breath following after. "Not in a million years." he kept his act up, hoping no one was catching onto him.

When he sits down, everything else seems to be normal, and thankfully, Jake seems none the wiser and doesn't bring it up again.

-

Heeseung: 👀

It's eight at night when you receive a text from Heeseung, which is unusual, of course.

You text him back, interested in why he's hitting you up cause the contract has been over for days now.

You: 👀

Heeseung: Didn't think you'd answer 😳

You: What do you want? 🙄

Heeseung: I know the contact is over, but I was kinda sorta thinking about you 😅 and I was wondering, since it's Sunday night and we’re both not going to the party, maybe you could come over just for old-time's sake.

You: Old times sake? It's not even been a week, heeseung.

Heeseung: Okay, you got me there, but are you okay with coming over?

You chewed your lip in thought, but who were you kidding? It was Lee Heeseung. Of course, you were coming over.

You: I'll be over in half an hour.

Heeseung: See you then.

He would have offered to get you, but nine times out of ten, you'd say no. Plus, he had a little something to do anyway, so this was perfect.

Heeseung sprinted out of bed after he sent his last text.

He scrambled to his cabinets to prepare everything. He set up candles on either side of his bed. The smell of air freshener was all throughout his room. The lights were dim, which set the mood perfectly, and he couldn't forget to sprinkle some rose petals on the edge of the bed and don't even get him started on the bathroom.

Why is he doing this?

Well, because since the beginning, he had a little crush on you that blossomed into a fat one.

The day he laid eyes on you, he was utterly mesmerized by your beauty but also so shy he practically hid himself behind Jake when you introduced yourself cause he was too nervous to even speak in your presence.

But when you ignored him, it hurt his heart cause even though he just saw you, it was like love at first sight. His heart was racing, and his eyes were full of adoration. He was so happy Yeji was friends with you, and he couldn't wait to talk to you and get to know you more.

But that sadly didn't happen cause you didn't seem to have any interest in him the way he did you.

After a while, everything you did annoyed him, not cause he was annoyed by you, but he was annoyed cause everything you did didn't involve him. He wished you laughed at his jokes. He wished you talked to him. He wished you looked at him the way he looked at you.

Again, it just didn't happen; however, when you approached him at the party that one night, he couldn't pass the golden opportunity up. He was not easy by any means. He was definitely a man of standard. It's just it was you. How could he say no? Even if you didn't like him back, he said yes, because all he wanted was to get close with you anyway he could, and it just happened to be in the form of sex, but he wasn’t complaining cause your body was just as amazing as your personality.

Fast forward to the contract part. It was his poor attempt at getting closer to you; nevertheless, when you said no talking or looking at each other, that foiled his plans immediately. He still kept at it though for one reason, not sex, the sex was perfect don’t get him wrong, but the fact that you said your 90 days together would strictly be just you and him meant you wouldn't be dating any guys or seeing anyone but him, which meant he'd have some time to try and win you over but unfortunately the 90 days flew by and your relationship was the same if not worse.

Despite it all, he still didn't want to give up on you the last few days. He wasn't ignoring you cause he didn't like you. He was just trying to give you some space and show you he respected your boundaries. Maybe then he'd win a few points with you, and he was also brewing up a plan to see if maybe he could mend your guy's enemies' relationship and turn it into what it should have been from the start.

He had to cause he couldn't take the idea of not being your friend. You were great. You were funny, smart, caring, considerate, modest, and every other good word in the dictionary he could think of, not to mention the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid his two eyes on.

He knew you wouldn't come over just to hang out with him, so he kinda bribed you with sex, but that wasn't the only thing, he was going to give you a nice long night full of pleasure, and if he could convince you he was going to treat you to dinner and a movie and ask you a very forward but important question.

Around half an hour later, he heard your soft knocks on the front door, and he had just finished setting everything up, which was perfect. The plan was already going so smoothly; he exhaled a deep breath before answering the door. "You got this, heeseung," he said to himself and opened the door, revealing your figure, and you looked absolutely stunning as always. "You look beautiful, y/n." he stared at you, awestruck like a deer in the headlights.

And you don't know why, but it sounded so genuine you couldn't help but become flustered. "Thank you"

"You're welcome," he sighs dreamily as he watches you discarding your shoes at the door, and he prays by the end of the night. This wouldn't be the last time you came over. "Come with me." he grabs your hand, leading the way.

You entered his bedroom, and it smelled like lavender, which was your favorite scent. You couldn't help but notice the rose petals and the candles, and you wondered why he decided to go all out tonight. "Who knew you could be so romantic?" You teased.

"I try." he came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and engulfing your frame. "You like it?"

"I love it, but hee, what has gotten into you?" You say trying to sound annoyed but you can't bring yourself to, not when he's hugging you so affectionately and his fingertips are tickling your sides making you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"You" is all he says as he caresses your skin and makes out with the side of your neck. Your mind goes blank after feeling his soft lips on your skin, and nothing but the thought of having his body fills your brain.

"I'm so glad you could make it," he whispers in your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it as you crane your neck to the side.

"Me too," you reply softly, your eyes falling shut as his smooth fingertips trace your sides up and down.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, and finally, your neck, leaving wet open, mouth kisses on your sensitive spot.

"Hee," you moan shakily, and he slips his hands under your shirt, tracing his index finger around your navel, one hand dipping inside your shorts and the other cupping your bra-glad breast.

“I'm here, baby,” He whispers, pressing his body flush against you, his hand rubbing over your clothed mound, the hand on your chest slipping inside your bra to play with your hardened nipples.

Your back arched naturally, and you whined when you felt his stiffness twitching on your backside.

He moans breathlessly, his warm breath tickling your neck as he sticks his tongue out, licking the spot he just kissed over and over again.

His fingers slipped your panties to the side, and when you felt his bare skin on yours, you gasped loudly. His warm fingers massaging your sensitive folds was the best feeling in the world. He always knew just how to touch you to make you want him. "You're really wet," he emphasizes with a deep groan while tightening his grip on your left breast.

"All because of you," you tell him truthfully, and he smiles softly at your words, pleased to know he’s pleasuring you just the way you like it. "You always get me so wet, baby."

He melts when you call him baby, his chest filling with nothing but warmth, his hand teased your opening, dipping his middle finger inside you just deep enough to make you want more. "Is that right?" he says, completely fascinated by your arousal as he slips his finger right inside with ease.

"Yes," Your legs tremble from the pleasuring intrusion. You'd think after having him almost every day for 90 days, you'd get used to the feeling, but you never did. It just felt better and better each time. "Feels so good," you whimper.

"Yeah?" He nibbles on your neck, his hands still working magic all over your body, and when he rubs himself against you, you just can't wait anymore.

"Please hee, I c-can't, c-can't wait," you breathed out every square inch of your body, ignited by his touch while your juices were running down his fingers and wrist, and you were more than ready to take him at this point.

"It's okay, baby, I got you." he pressed his cheek to yours as he reached down, easily dropping your shorts and panties. "Arms up for me, baby." he leans back, and you lift your arms, obeying his command. "Just like that." he kisses your cheek, lips soft and moist as he proceeds to seamlessly unclasp your bra. The material hits the floor, leaving you completely naked, all for him. "So pretty." he pecked your shoulder, hands running along your perfect curves. "Lie on the bed." You walked over to his bed and laid down, head already in a daze-like state. Watching him strip in front of you was a sight to see. Once he was undressed, he climbed on the bed hovering above you; you gripped anything you could reach, one hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you as you eagerly pressed your lips against his. He moaned into your mouth, a little taken aback by your excitement, but he couldn't say he didn't love your sudden enthusiasm for him.

His hard length rubbed across your core, and you needily bucked your hips, grinding yourself against him to feel him more. "I want you so bad." You verbalized your need for him, and again, your lips were meeting his in a messy, desperate kiss.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart." A warm feeling spreads through you at his words, and it's definitely not your arousal this time, he leans back, resting his forehead against yours as you both close your eyes and take a breather to catch your bearings.

He lays on top of you fully, your legs wrapping around his waist as he bucks his hips into you, his shaft rubbing your glossy pussy. "So good," he whispers and angles his hips perfectly with your entrance, thrusting forward in one smooth motion, sinking himself within your body. "Y/n," he breathes out, the feeling of your warm walls inviting him in, never once failing to leave him breathless.

"Hee, you're so perfect." You placed your hand on his cheek, the other on his arm, and you couldn't stop yourself from making out with his lips, but he wasn't complaining cause your lips were one of his favorite parts about you.

His thrusts were slower than usual, allowing you to feel every ridge, dip, and curve, even the slightest pulses here and there as his girth filled you up so perfectly, you're sure you'd never find anyone better than him in bed, and you didn't want to. He knew all the right things to say and all the right places to hit to have you a complete mess under his perfect muscular body.

He squeezed the pillow beneath his hands, trying to ground himself as he rutted forward. You took him in so well his balls were touching your soaked outer lips as his tip kissed your cervix with each and every thrust. "Oh fuck” his voice vibrates in his throat, eyes rolling in the back of his head. "You're so amazing, y/n." he bites down hard on his bottom lip. "You feel so good.

You clench at not only his words but the blissed-out expression on his face. He always looked so good while he was stroking deep inside you. "Come here," you chuckled softly, pulling him down by his neck as you kissed him once more.

He knows you so well by now that he doesn't need you to tell him that you're close cause he can feel it. "You must really like my lips, huh?" He giggles, and you're not sure how he could look so cute yet be so sexy at the same time. Little did you know he was thinking the same exact thing about you, too.

"Something like that," you smile, parting from him long enough to say before capturing his lips again.

"Yeah, it's a little something like that for me too," he whispers against your lips, and you can feel him smiling, which in turn makes you smile. Without a doubt, this was the most romantic interaction you've had with each other so far, and you loved every single last second of it, and he's happy he could say the same.

You could barely keep up with his kisses once he started massaging your clit. "Hee-" he cuts through your words, sucking on your tongue softly, his thumb rubbing your tiny pearl faster till you're clasping tightly around him.

"Cum with me," he whispers just as he feels those familiar tingles in his lower stomach. "Y-y/n," he stutters. The sound of him moaning your name does it for you, all the pleasure finally dispersing throughout your system.

"Hee," you held onto him tightly, coming undone right on time with him. This was by far the best sex you've had with each other. The setting was perfect. It was slow, it was intimate, it was everything both of you wanted in the bedroom, and on top of that, there was no smart talk, just you heeseung and his beautifully decorated bed.

You were both panting softly, trying your best to catch your breath after that amazing experience.

He rode out your highs together, gently rolling his hips until the pulsations between your bodies faded away, slowly pulling out so he wouldn't overstimulate either of you.

It was quiet and peaceful, only the sounds of your breaths filling the room, along with the smell of roses and candles. "Thank you for coming over," he smiled softly, giving you a small peck on the lips and covering your bodies with the blankets. You blushed shyly because why the heck was he acting all sweet? Suddenly your heart couldn't take it, you had gotten so used to mean heeseung that seeing him be nice to you felt weird but strangely good, you liked him like this.

Obviously, you got to see the real Heeseung. He was great. He was smart, handsome, and very gentleman-like, and whenever he talked, you could see the passion in his eyes as he went into great detail about whatever he was interested in at that moment. He was the life of any party, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to be his friend or maybe even more now that he was being himself around you.

You wished to be included in the conversations he had with others. You wanted him to acknowledge you, and what are you even talking about? This was just meaningless sex between you and him, and none of that was ever gonna happen, but that didn't stop you from at least entertaining the idea a little or maybe even a lot.

You kissed him back as a nonverbal thank you for tonight and he gave you a giddy little smile in return, you were about to get out of bed and do your normal routine then leave cause you didn't want to get used to any of this, knowing it was your last time with him, it was already hard enough just leaving his arms.

"Hey, wait," he quickly grabs your arm, gently pulling you back down into bed with him. "I'm kinda hungry. Do you want anything?" He raises a question, trying not to be too obvious about casually asking you to stay and have dinner with him.

"You're just trying to fuel me up for another round," you say, giggling and pulling away from him.

"Maybe," he smirked, but when he saw you were actually getting ready to leave, he quickly turned serious. "Wait, no, y/n, I'm serious. I'm thinking Chinese or pizza."

"Fine, I'll have pizza." You roll your eyes, attempting not to smile at his kind offer.

"Topping?" He asked as he grabbed his phone off the night stand, his heart racing with excitement and nerves cause so far, the plan was still going accordingly.

"Pepperoni and…."

"Pineapple"

You both say at the same time, and heeseung smiles to himself. "So cute," he whispers to himself typing in the order.

"What?" You say, shocked that he actually knows your order.

"You heard me" he quickly places the order and peels the blankets off his body. "You can use my bathroom to shower and I'll change the sheets."

He says it causally like this is just something the two of you normally do.

"Am I missing something?" You say, confused.

"Not that I'm aware of, no." he puts on a pair of boxers and starts removing the sheets. "Quickly before the food arrives. I don't want you eating it cold, and there's an extra robe in the cabinet," he says, all while never making eye contact with you cause he knows if he did, he'd be a red stuttering mess, he doesn't even know how he kept it together this long.

You stood there speechless because what the fuck was going on in that brain of his for him to treat you this way after everything, or was this just his way of trying to get you to keep coming over for sex now that the contract was over, but you doubt it, he didn't seem like the type and this would be a little extreme just to have sex so why is he doing all this just for you?

You chalked it up to him just being nice to you for once and went on to take your bath. When you opened the bathroom door, you gasped at the sight. It was even more beautiful than his bedroom. There were more candles on the edge of the tub with rose petals at the bottom. An incense was burning, and it smelled so good you never wanted to leave, not to mention the temperature was absolutely perfect.

You opened the cabinet, a fresh white robe waiting for you, just like he said. You put it on and turned on the faucet, running the temperature just right. As you waited for the tub to fill, you used some of the bubble bath he had set up along the edge of the tub. You heard a soft knock, and the door opened behind you a bit later. "Mind if I join you?" Heeseung asked, and you could have sworn he was blushing cause he couldn't even look at you.

"Not at all," you tell him, and he sighs in relief, his shoulders loosening up a bit as he walks over to you and bends down slightly, kissing your forehead.

You stood up on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he undid the string on the front of your robe, letting it hit the floor. You kissed his lips softly and pulled away, running your hands through his nape hairs. He smiled at you lazily, and you don't know why or how, but everything that was happening right now felt so natural, as if you'd been together for years.

You moved your hands from around his neck, and that was his cue to take off his underwear and step into the tub. First, he reached his hand out for you to join him. Once you were both inside, he sat at the back of the tub, guiding you to lay in between his legs, your head automatically resting comfortably on his broad chest as he smoothed his hands all over your skin, caressing your body, it felt so relaxing to be in his arms in the warmth of the tub while he pampered you and kissed your shoulders ever so softly.

He hummed a soothing tune and popped the cap off the body wash, using the vanilla-scented gel to wash your delicate body with. "Hmm, that smells nice. Where did you get it from?" You asked him.

"You know the day we went to the mall and you weren't feeling well?" You hum in acknowledgment.

"Well, you asked for something, so I got all this for you." he was happy you couldn't see his face, but he was sure the erratic pounding in his chest gave him away.

"So you planned all this?" You chuckled.

"Maybe," he laughs softly, kissing the crown of your head.

"Hee, that's so sweet of you, thank you." You reached your arm behind his head, bringing him in for a short kiss.

"You're welcome, y/n." he looked at you with the sweetest eyes you've ever seen, and you didn't want to look away for even a second.

-

An hour passed by, and you both finished your very relaxing bath. He stepped out first and gave you a new, clean robe to change into. "So your clothes are kinda in the washer." he scratched his nape nervously. "But you can wear mine if you want," he suggested hesitantly while wrapping a towel around himself.

"Sure!" You chirped.

"Okay, wait here, and I'll bring you something, okay?" you scrunched your nose up cutely, and he swears it was the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

"Okay," he kissed your cheek, neither of you thinking about how you ended up like this, just deciding to enjoy the moment while it lasted and go with the flow of things.

He leafed through his drawers, finding the smallest shirt he owned, and luckily, he had a pair of unused boxers that you could wear. He brought everything to you and slipped it through the crack of the door opening. "I'll wait outsid-" You grabbed his wrist instead of the clothes, practically dragging him back into the bathroom with you. You appreciate him wanting to give you your privacy, but you didn't mind having him there with you.

You both laughed out loud, you laughing at his shocked face and him laughing at your boldness. "Let me help you," he said, helping you slip your arms through the holes. He grabbed the front of his white button-up shirt, fastening it up for you and kissing you one button at a time. "Knew you'd look so cute in this," he compliments.

"Thank you," you blushed, and he kneeled down, helping you step into his boxers, pulling them all the way up for you, and kissing your hip bone. He finished dressing you, and at this point, you're not even sure how you were coherent cause he literally got on his knees to help you get dressed. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say you had fallen in love with him at some point tonight.

"All done," he stood up like he didn't just make your heart beat one thousand times faster. “Come on,”

He took your hand in his, stroking it with his thumb, leading you out of the bathroom as he turned off the lights in the bathroom before he went to his drawer, mindlessly dropping his towel at his feet while you sat on the bed he picked out his clothes, and you covered your blushing face it's not like you hadn't seen him naked nearly a hundred times but tonight felt different somehow.

He looked over, and he laughed softly, seeing you going all shy from his nudity.

He got a text on his phone alerting him that the food had arrived, and he mentally gave himself a pat on the back for getting everything right so far. "Wait here." he left and came back into his room a few minutes later with the food, getting comfortable on the bed as he let you take your choice of the first slice.

He grabbed the TV remote, turning on your favorite movie that was already set up on the TV before you even arrived.

"How did you know?" You ask him in surprise cause how the heck did he know your favorite food and movie?

"I don't know." he shrugged and grabbed a slice of pizza, trying to play off the fact that he was blushing.

He cut his eyes at you, and you were clearly still waiting for an answer. "Your first day at school, you mentioned it," he mumbled, getting all shy.

"You remembered? That was like months ago," you asked, your eyes twinkling with excitement.

"I always remember the things that I care about." he looked you straight in the eyes, and you immediately looked away, his gaze far too intense for your poor heart to handle.

He cleared his throat and turned to the movie playing on the screen while you both ate in silence.

Half an hour later, you both finished eating, and he set the empty box on his nightstand along with the cola that he let you have most of. How could he not when you asked him for more so nicely?

He pretended to stretch out and sneakily put his arm around your shoulder, laying back against the bed frame, bringing your body as close to his as humanly possible. His heart melts when you snuggle up to his chest, inhaling his scent, and he thinks now's the perfect time. Everything else went perfect, and there's no way this couldn't go perfect as well.

It just had to.

He stretched his free arm over to the drawer, pulling out the contract that you ripped, which was now taped and pieced all back together. “Y/n?” He calls out to you softly and you look up at him humming in acknowledgment.

He hands you the paper, and you look at the ripped contract. "Why do you still have the-" you stop mid-sentence, eyes going wide when you look at the bottom where there was a new addition.

"I really am not sure what to say, but I'll just say what I feel and hope it makes sense. I know things started out rough, but I've liked you since day one, and I couldn't help but at least try with you, so y/n, even though we said some mean things to each other and did some things with each other that enemies don't do, will you restart with me? I swear it can be like this all the time, and you were right. I was doing all that stuff to get your attention the only way I knew how, and I know it was silly, and I acted like a grade-schooler with a crush, but I'm sorry for spilling all those drinks on you," he pouted, and you couldn't help but laugh softly remembering those times. "And I'm sorry for everything else, too. I was just confused and jealous that I wasn't getting your attention. I just did whatever it took to at least get you to notice me, even if it was negative, and I don't know. I just think you're really special and just a great person overall. I want you in my life. And please tell me if this is too soon, but I've been thinking about it for a long time now, and I'd just like to ask if you'd give me the honor of being your boyfriend?" He holds the pen out for you, his hand shaking with nerves as he looks at you with his soft brown eyes.

This was not what you were expecting when he texted you tonight, but you were not disappointed by any means when you came over, and technically, it wasn't so soon. You'd known him for more than three months, and you saw what kind of guy he was when he was around his friends, not to mention you were literally wearing his clothes in his bed after eating the food he bought for you, and he treated you to an evening full of everything you could ever wish for you'd never forget the fun you had with him tonight and there wasn't any reason you could see to say no to him and on top of everything else yeji had the best friends ever and you trusted her judgment as much as you trusted Heeseung's intentions with you.

"YES!" you snatched the pen from his hand excitedly, enthusiastically circling the check box that said yes.

You put the paper down, hugging him so tight he could barely breathe, but he didn't care cause you just made him the happiest man on the planet. "Thank you for giving me a chance." he hugs you back, running his hand along your back.

"I should be the one thanking you. I'm sorry for everything, too; I never meant any of it." You booped the point of his nose. "You're not a pig, and you're not ugly in the mornings, and I don't hate you."

"Aww, It's okay, baby. I forgive you. You forgive me?" he laughs softly.

"Of course." You both smiled as he went in for a quick peck.

“You smell so good.” he buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you giggle shyly.

“Thank you, baby” you reply sheepishly.

"So, by the way, where do you want the wedding to be?" he says out of nowhere, shocking you.

"What?" You pulled away from his hug, confusion written all over your face. "What wedding?"

"Make sure you always read the fine print, baby. Now you're stuck with me." You both broke out into a fit of laughter, nothing but happiness reflecting in each other's eyes.

After your laughter died down a bit, you pouted, remembering what started this whole mess between you two in the first place.

"But wait, I thought you hated me."

"I never said that. You said you hated me!"

-

The next day at school, you and Heeseung arrived early, going to hang out with the rest of the group outside on the park bench where you all first met. You sat side by side, and heeseung rested his head on your shoulder. He was literally clinging to you all morning long. He didn't let you do anything without some part of him touching you, and you didn't mind cause you thought it was the cutest thing ever how he went from ignoring you to not being able to separate himself from you.

Your friend's jaws were dropped to the ground when they saw the two of you being so close to each other.

"Okay, what the fuck? I think we missed a few episodes here," Sunghoon says.

Jay laughs, nodding his head in agreement. "I think we missed the whole damn series."

Heeseung smiled softly at your guy's friends and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist as you ran your fingers through his shiny black hair, causing all your friends to fake gag at the blatant show of affection.

"Not a series, just 90 days." You smiled and rested your head on top of Heeseung's.

"I was there for the sneak peek preview!" Jake stood up and shouted, his fist held up in the air triumphantly. He had a feeling about the two of you practically from the start, but he couldn't give himself too much credit. You guys were a little obvious from the start, especially heeseung. Sunghoon quickly yanked him back down by his wrist so he'd stop shouting in the early morning.

You laughed at the two, shaking your head softly as heeseung tightened his hold around you. And who knew that a contract could change your life? This was the best summer ever and going to be the best fall with your boyfriend by your side, and though you both started on the wrong side, everything worked out in the end, all thanks to Heeseung and his contract….

90 days of pleasure.

FIN.

90 days of pleasure taglist🔖 @capri-cuntz @heeseungshim @haelahoops @kimochiloveshee @heesoo11 @hoonxclsvly @yjwluvs @rizzhee @hanjisunginc @enpynhee @zerasari @parksunghoonsgf @ionlyreadforfanfics @heesquared @rayofsunshineeee @heeoao @iamliacamila @moktahiya @nycapartmentsworld @enwrites @adeoluhh @meiskra @jungwoning8 @fakeuwus @littlelilies @wooziswife @jongsaengjay @heehoonsnemo @eneiyri @chubbypeach2111 @kaykay11sworld @eskopiganja @live-your-wild-life @chasing-acid @jakehooni @haesgurl6 @hello-stranger24 @en-happiness @alienqbrain @jvjsssnaa @amortapes @parkchimmylove @ethelia @seochannnn @httpsneptvnn @httpsrinrin @nellwoo @pasteltheghost16 @swimmingmoonmentality @mwahvvis @browniestraykidshiteu @rikisly @perfectnighttt @euphoric-tama @enha-enhypen @mimimovv @wannieepisod @nctislifue

Permanent taglist🔖 @moon7jay @heesitation @hee-pster @furious-eagle @hoyeonheeseung

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

[millersfinest]

untethered | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 7.4k

series: chapter one (you’re here!), chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf (kind of), the millers, r is a writer, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, some physical violence, adopted kid trauma (shoutout to all the adopted kids!!), hella angst, repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut.

note: i have too much confidence writing for ellie. but here’s another series im starting because i realized the plot is too much for a single work on here, hence the 7 thousand words ijbol. hope you guys enjoyyy.

It was quieter upstate. Breathable and airy—you missed it more than anything. As much as you loved living in Manhattan, there was nothing like the countryside. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing. Hearing the excited neighing from the horses you birthed and took care of. It was refreshing to be home again.

And, of course, you missed your parents.

They adopted you as a troubled child, and you’ve considered yourself lucky ever since. Babies and younger children were often the ones to be pulled from inconsistent foster homes, but they chose you. A pierced, attitude-ridden, thirteen-year-old who liked smoking cigarettes because they made you look cooler than you felt. And it helped you cope with the lasting effects of neglectful parents.

That trauma didn’t just disappear once Tommy and Maria entered your life. It was something that grew from nothing, and they were adamant in making your transition as comfortable as possible. You never experienced anything like it before them. Their strictness and structure did the opposite of what most would think. You went from sneaking out and smoking cigarettes to staying up late studying and finishing your favorite novels—still smoking cigarettes, though, but out your window. It was hard habit to break.

Once you realized that they could be trusted and had your best interest at heart, you gave them the right to parent you. Sure, it wasn’t easy. The three of you argued many, many times—but you respected them more than you have anyone else. Really, just for tolerating you.

The Miller’s were always very family oriented and social. Sunday nights always managed to be a grand event—Tommy grilling in the acred backyard, Maria handling the food items that could be cooked inside, and you diligently decorating and setting the table. Football Sundays were always the worst, but they were great memories to think about. That was the first time you met, basically, the love of your life at the time. Ellie Williams.

It was 1995 when you had completely fallen in love with her—only knowing her for around three years. Joel Miller wasn’t really her father, or adoptive father, he was just somebody who took care of her. He owned a guitar shop that sold, obviously, guitars and other instruments alike; as well as holding lessons for those wanted to learn how to play.

The story goes: Joel was working the register on a very slow day when Ellie showed up. There was a shiner on her eye, but she insisted that she was fine—asking for lessons with crumbled cash and dirty coins. She couldn’t afford the lessons on her own, so he gave her a job and proceeded with teaching her how to play.

She grew up similar to you; hidden under the confines of foster care. The only difference was, she was never adopted. At least not until the age of seventeen, when she’d spent so much time with Joel that she had a decorated bedroom in his house. They both had commitment issues, but after Tommy convinced him to do the paperwork… He did. Surprising her on her seventeenth birthday. However, the outcome didn’t really go to plan. Not how anyone would have expected it.

It was 1997 when she completely broke your heart… Not to be cheesy or anything.

Her seventeenth birthday was hosted at your house, on the farm. You knew her the most out of everyone, so you made it your mission to make this the best birthday ever. Decorating had become a hobby of yours after so many Sunday dinners—you spent all day stringing up lights and colorful streamers. Maria helping you out with a homemade cake that said: Happy Birthday Els! You were too anxious to write the words yourself, so you let her do it instead. You were even sure to invite the friends you shared; demanding they each brought presents to show how much they cared about her.

Joel had showed up before she did; just in time so they could all hide and jump out with big smiles on your faces when Ellie arrived. You would always remember the feeling of hearing the rumbling of her truck coming to a stop. And the shy smile on her face when everyone jumped out from behind furniture—blowing birthday kazoo’s. It was picturesque!

Dina had trotted over to her, snapping a blue paper cone birthday hat over her head. While you walked over with her birthday cake in your hands, brightened with seventeen candles. “Happy seventeenth, Ellie.” You had spoken, warmly. A bashful grin spreading onto your lips. She looked at you with such awe in that moment. Blowing out her candles and kissing your cheek, muttering a blushing ‘I fuckin’ love you’.

You knew about her surprise adoption papers before the party had started, excitement running through your veins when Joel meandered toward her—handing her an envelope of hope. Ellie took it, eyeing him, skeptically. “Open it!” You urged—that was your mistake.

Chortling, she broke open the envelope, not caring if it tore. When she pulled out the certificate, reading the words on the page, her entire face dropped. “Adoption papers?” Her eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at Joel. The smile fell from your face, lips parting in slight shock. Her olive eyes glanced around the room, seeing the fallen expressions clouding everyone’s features. Landing on your fallen face, briefly—a look exclaiming, ‘how could you’. Freckled cheeks heating up in embarrassment and… Anger. “Joel, what the fuck?” She blinked at him, shoving the papers into his chest, then storming out of the house. Hands ripping the hat from the top of head, throwing it to the ground. The screen door creaking obnoxiously as she exited. It all happened so fast.

He quickly followed her out, calling for her, desperately.

Awkwardly, you turned to the frozen people around you. “Anybody want cake? It’s german c— chocolate.” You stammered, trying to keep your composure. Looking to Maria and Tommy for some sort of consolation, you frowned, placing the cake on the counter before fleeing to the bathroom.

You clenched at the roots of your hair, pacing around the bathroom. You could hear remnants of a solo screaming match from outside the bathroom window, causing you to grit your teeth. The papers were supposed to be a good thing! Ellie had always been a hothead—easily agitated like a stray kitten is distress. There were even moments where the two of you went at it. Until one of you caved, begging for affection as an apology. Your nerves burned at the idea of her not liking the surprise—was that selfish?

Instead of remaining in the bathroom, you swung open the door with your eyes fixed on the front door. Hands clenched at your sides, you walked through the kitchen, where Tommy tried to liven up the mood by handing out pieces of cake.

He tried calling your name, but you brushed him off, pushing open the screen door with an attitude that could be felt with every step you took. The brisk autumn air hit your exposed skin, the long-sleeve striped shirt not doing much to keep you warm.

Striding around the side of the house, you seen Joel and Ellie having a stern conversation. But by the time your eyes landed on them, they were in a beat of silence. Joel shaking his head with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Ellie had her arms stubbornly crossed, frowning. When her eyes found yours, he turned around to leave. “She’s all yours…” He solemnly sighed, walking back into the house. The adoption papers crumbled up in his hands.

Biting your bottom lip, you approached her with your arms crossed for warmth. “What happened, Ellie?” Your voice dragged, tiredly. There was something always wrong with her. “We just wanted to do something nice for you… Why’d you have to go and ruin it—?”

“Oh, I’m the one who ruined it?” She scoffed, a sneer resting on her lips. “I’m not the one who brought the fucking adoption papers!” Ellie exclaimed, gesturing broadly with her hands. When she was up in arms, she always gesticulated more. “Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did—“

You interrupted her with scrutinizing glare. “So, what if I did? I thought this would make you happy, Ellie… Don’t you understand?”

“You had me open that in front of everyone knowing what was inside— and you thought that’d make me happy?” Her lips arched in disgust. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her words were venomous, lips twitching in anger.

There was nobody who understood you more than Ellie, and vice versa. You just got each other because you came from similar backgrounds—that was your glue. You don’t know me at all. That was new.

With your eyes growing warm with tears, your tongue rolled in your mouth. “I spent all day setting this up… For you. Because I love you, Ellie. I don’t know you— that’s bullshit if I ever heard it.” Your voice cracked, but you refused to let a tear run down your cheek. This was no time for tears—if she could get angry, so could you.

“I’ve known you long enough to have some semblance of understanding on why you’re upset, right now— that’s for damn sure.” You paused, averting your eyes to concentrate on keeping your rising emotions at bay. She watched you, cheeks still red with anger. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes— ten, Ellie! If you don’t get your ass back in there in next ten fucking minutes…” You lick your lips, shaking your head. “We’re over. Done!”

Giving a final glare, you turned to head back inside. “I can’t keep dealing with this shit.” You mutter, under your breath.

“So that’s what it is… Dealing with me?” Ellie voiced, a sliver of disappointment slipping in her moment of anger.

Wiping your cheeks, you peered over your shoulder. “What?”

“You got this perfect little life… Huh?” She began, approaching you intimidatingly. “The loving parents, the farmhouse— you became the perfect daughter for them… Gets the grades, does everything she can to appease them. This fuckin’ fantasy world that you chose to live in all because you wanted someone to love you… Fuckin’ pathetic.”

“Ellie…” You warned.

“Well, newsflash, little-miss-perfect— not everybody wants that! Not everybody wants to play pretend for the rest of their fucking life just to be—“

It happened before you could stop it, fists clenching at your sides as she bad mouthed you till oblivion. Your soft spot—and she knew all about that. Both of you grew up as kids who got into fights and disputes more times than anyone could count; you just decided to clean up your act. However, that troubled twelve to thirteen-year-old still resided inside of you. And, in that moment, she wasn’t your doting girlfriend—she was someone punching down on you.

Your knuckles collided with the side of her face, knocking into her cheek bone. Features scowling as if she were a stranger. Ellie stumbled, holding onto her face with surprised eyes. For a second the version of her you loved came through, but she quickly recovered. Her lips curling at the ends, taunting you. “I knew you still had it in you… You’re no better than me.”

There it was.

Not only was it the straw that broke the camels back—it was the truth. The ultimate truth. Behind all of your petty little arguments. Behind all her wild bursts of anger. She was jealous of you. Grunting behind your teeth, you charged at her. Taking the collar of her jacket as her back hit the gravelly ground. Straddling her, you didn’t hear the rushing feet hitting the porch. You could feel her hands settling loosely on your calves, only angering you more. “I did the fucking work— nobody else but me!” Tears poured down your cheeks. “I am better than you. Because I fucking try—“

Arms pulled you off her body, wrapping around your abdomen. It was Tommy, questioning you in your ear, but you weren’t listening. “Everything went to shit because of you! Remember that!” Dina and Jesse rushed to her side, but she only sat up watching you get pulled back inside. They glared at your forced retreat—they were always more friends with her than they were with you.

Tommy released you, with a disappointed sigh. Maria walking inside, shutting the door behind her, frowning. You heaved, looking at all the decorations that mocked you. Sparkling and shining against the dim lights in the room. The barely eaten cake sat on the counter in the kitchen making fun of you—it was all too much.

“What the hell has gotten into you, y/n?!” Maria pointedly, asked. Not really wanting a response.

“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into her—!” You pointed to the door as if she replaced it.

The blond man leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, bending at his hips. “Well, I don’t think it matters what’s gotten into her if you put your hands on her, Bug.” Tommy spoke, evenly. He was always the calmer of the two. “Did you… Did you put your hands on her?”

Maria stood with her hands on her hips. “What did we say about fighting—? And you don’t hit your girlfriend— you don’t hit the people that you care about!” She scolded, pointing her finger. “We raised you better than that…”

Your lips quivered, guilt setting in. “I didn’t mean to hit her! She wanted— she wanted me to… I swear!”

He glanced at his wife. “She wanted you to hit her?” Tommy deadpanned, pressing his lips into a line.

They both looked at you with separate expressions. Maria clearly overwhelmed with disappointment and utter disbelief. The same look she gave you when she caught you smoking cigarettes at the barn when you were fourteen—when you told her you quit. Tommy had an expression of pity, like he often did. That same look he gave when you had a meltdown at school when you first moved in with them.

More tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Maria… Tommy… She pushed me. Why would she do that? Why would she—“ You began to ramble, knees growing weak. Your strict mother-figure rushed to your side, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to— she was just being so mean.”

Sinking to the floor with you, her hands caressed your hair. Maria looked to Tommy, mouthing for him to go check on Ellie.

Outside, Ellie was dismissing the weary questions from her friends. She’d never seen you act in such an unruly way. Every time she came over, there wasn’t a hair that was out of place on your head. She was always the one acting out, swearing like a sailor. Sure, she knew about your smoking habit, but that was nothing.

Your girlfriend was envious of how everything was panning out for you—college was around the corner. You had an acceptance letter from your dream school, and without a doubt, you were leaving for the city. Leaving her behind to rot in the country. It wasn’t fair!

That adoption letter felt like pity. She wasn’t a fan of that feeling either.

As a bruise formed on her cheek, guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Ellie had every intention on seeing the side of you that everyone talked about with a past tense that indicated warning. She needed to prove to herself that you weren’t the perfect person she saw you to be—but all that was left behind was remorse and a sore cheek.

She watched as Joel and Tommy stepped aside to talk. Their eyes glancing back and forth between the door and Ellie, as she leaned against her rusted red truck.

“I can’t believe she would do something like that… On your birthday?” Dina shook her head, with her arms crossed.

“It’s not like her…” Jesse narrowed his eyes at the auburn-haired girl. “What’d you do?”

Dina smacked his chest. “Jessie! She’s literally the victim here— domestic abuse!”

He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying what she did was right.” Jessie began. “I’m saying that I know Ellie Williams, and I know how she is— she’s a pusher.”

The bruised seventeen-year-old scoffed.

“Yeah, I said it.” He stood tall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a pusher. Hell, you’re a professional pusher— you push people for a fucking living.” Dina glared at him, threatening to hit him again. “I mean, there was that one time… When we went into the city for that comic convention, and you completely obliterated Joel for worrying about you—“

The dark-haired, freckled teenager pushed her boyfriend out of the way taking his place. “We don’t have to relive that…”

Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Look, I know this is my fault…”

“Ellie… You’re the one with the bruise forming on your face.” She reached up, rubbing her cheek. Her wincing under her touch.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her red eyes. “Yeah, and if it weren’t for me— for what I said… I wouldn’t have this fuckin’ bruise.” Ellie peered at where Joel and Tommy were speaking. They were wrapping up, giving brotherly hugs. “I am a pusher… And now my girlfriend hates me.” She pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. The blond Miller waved a hand at her, giving a tight-lipped smile that screamed I’m sorry. “I gotta go…” She pulled her keys from her pocket, getting into her truck.

That was the last full conversation the two of you had. Horrible, but the last. Everything in between then and the present was short and empty. Light conversations that only strangers and acquaintances shared. Letters here and there. It was a dispute that was so nuanced, for the first year after that, Joel barely said a word to you. Which bled into his relationship with Tommy. Maria tried to play middleman, but it didn’t work.

Perhaps, that was the reason you kept your distance. You didn’t want to continue to be the wedge that formed between two brothers. While you loved your parents, they were only a phone-call away. And, in the meantime, you could focus on growing in your career. Focusing on your book writing, instead.

You just wanted to forget about what happened when you were an emotionally undeveloped seventeen-year-old, but every time you seen her face—you remembered. So, avoiding Ellie Williams was a mission within itself.

A mission you were hoping you weren’t going to have to endure this year.

“You know,” Tommy began, sipping his fresh coffee. “Joel’s coming down from Jersey for the week.”

As you looked through the fridge, you snapped your head in his direction. “Is he now…?” You slowly question. Letting the fridge door shut on its own. The blonde woman to his right, sitting at the island counter, chuckled. Flipping through the interior design magazine you brought for her.

“And he’s picking up Ellie from the city.”

“What!” You exclaim, rushing to the opposite side of the counter. Pulling the mug from his lips, a surprised squeak left your throat. “Uh, dad… You forgot to mention on the several phone calls that we had in that last month that Ellie moved to the city.”

Maria perked up, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’s been there for about a year now… Brooklyn, is it?” She looked to her husband for clarification. He nodded, peering up at you with a plain expression.

“A year?! And none of you told me?”

“Bug, you did say that you didn’t want us to bring her up anymore unless you asked.” Maria stood to her feet, meandering to the stove and oven. “But that does remind me… They should be here in a few hours. Wanna help with the brownies?” She preheated the oven, walking around you casually.

Your mouth fell open, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, so they get brownies, and I get the worst news of my life…” An apron with your nickname embroidered on the front, Bug, hung in your mother's hand as an offering. “Yes, I’ll help with the brownies— this is very cruel to your very successful daughter.”

Tommy waved his hand, dismissively. “C’mon, that incident happened years ago now. You’re twenty-five, I’m sure she’s gotten over it.”

Tying the string around your neck and back, you pressed your lips into a line. It wasn’t really about her—you weren’t over it. You still harbored the same guilt you felt when you settled in your room that night. A crazy mixture of resentment and remorse all rolled up into one feeling; as you settled in your reading nook, with your hand out the window holding a burning cigarette with your index and middle finger. “I’m sure she has…”

Eventually, you switched the conversation around while baking. Falling into fits of laughter from mentioning past stories of your teenagehood. Teaming up with Maria to make fun of Tommy and his aging—all of a sudden, he was beginning to have a knack for playing a checkers. Only old people enjoyed playing checkers. Then, the waiting began.

To busy yourself, you pulled out your computer and brought it to the porch. Even though, you were taking some time off at your publishing job; when it came to your book writing, you had an agent to keep flooding your inbox with emails. Telling you to do this and do that—it was obnoxious. But you did as she asked anyway.

Typing away, a puff of nicotine fled from your lips. Murmuring under your breath, the words that were populating on the screen. On your hip, your phone rang, causing you to throw your head back in slight agony. Something always interrupted you when you were flowing. Flipping open your phone, the decorative chain swinging around as you placed it against your ear. “Hello,” You spoke, stubbing out your cigarette.

It was your roommate and closest friend, Sierra, complaining about the neighbors. Her strong long island accent echoing through the phone. “Oh, my God— they’re so loud! You’d think gettin’ an apartment in a nicer building would thicken the walls.” She groaned on the other end. “Please, come back. At least to tell them to shut up, and then you could go back upstate.”

“Why don’t you… I don’t know…” You shut your laptop, replacing your butt with the boxy electronic. Strolling to the far end of the porch, leaning your arms against the bannister. “Tell them yourself?” An amused smile spread on your lips.

Sierra paused. “Because that’s your job. I’m the nice one, remember?”

“Okay, well I can’t leave. I just got here, and I’m not spending another grand on taxi fare.”

“I’ll spot you.” You could hear her smile on the end.

“Sierra, I’m not coming back until Saturday. So, your only options are to either bang on their door— telling them to shut the hell up— or you suffer listening to their relentless daytime sex.” As you spoke, a truck began rolling up the driveway. Identities unclear due to the intense window tint, but you knew exactly who it was. However, there were three heads in that truck.

She groaned on the other end of the line. “Ugh! I hate you—“

“You love me!” You grinned, but it dropped right off your face when the people exited the vehicle. From the driver's seat, it was Ellie; then, it was Joel who exited, seemingly in conversation. And, finally, a girl stepped out of the vehicle. Joel noticed you leaning against the bannister on the porch, waving his hand with a smile.

Your muscles reacted, waving a fleeting hand. “Maria, Tommy! They’re here!” You yell loud enough to be heard through the screen door. You were always insecure about calling them by their parental titles in front of people—let alone new people.

“You’re yelling in my ear, hon. If you gotta go just tell me.” Sierra complained.

“I gotta go.”

Before she could say her goodbyes, you shut your phone, sliding it into your back pocket. Your parents came out of the house in high spirits; Maria clapping her hands, excitedly, embracing Ellie. Tommy giving a firm bear hug to Joel, laughing heartily—at what? You were unsure.

Awkwardly, you stood there. Smiling with your hands held in front of your body as if you were presenting a project.

Joel looked to you, approaching you with open arms. “Look at you,” He began, wrapping his arms around you, warmly. “All grown up.” He pulled back to get a better look at you, nodding proudly.

“Yeah…” You tapped his shoulder. “You, too.” A chuckle fell from your lips.

Then, you looked to your right at the freckled girl with her arm around a feminine stranger. However, you couldn’t indentify her before you did Ellie. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun, with pieces framing her gentle features. Her round evergreen, tinted with slivers of brown, eyes. Freckles decorating her cheeks, bridge of her nose; the beauty mark under left eye—

“Hey,” Ellie drawled out the greeting, awkwardly. Leaning in for a hug that teetered back and forth until you reciprocated.

You kept that same plastered smile on your lips, wrapping your arm under hers. “Hey, Ellie.” Pulling back, you finally looked at the girl beside her. She had tattoos and piercings and looked so much cooler than you. “Who’s this?”

Her earthy eyes widened. “Oh, this is, uhm, my girlfriend, Cat.”

The only response you could give was a nod and a half-hearted wave. It was like a dramatic record scratch in your head. But your parents took over with the rest. Guiding everyone inside to the warmth. Tommy remained outside, giving you skeptical eyes. “Help me with the bags…”

“Honey, don’t be weird about this.” He spoke, as you followed him to the truck.

“I’m not being weird.” You whined, gravel crunching under your feet. “Seriously, what’s to be weird about?” Reaching into the open trunk, you pulled out luggage’s and duffle bags. This was a lot of stuff for a week stay—they brought more than you did.

He gruffly breathed, pulling up the handle of one of the suitcases. “You’re my daughter, I know you— just sayin’…”

“Oh, my God— please!” You complained, hooking the duffle over your shoulder, pulling one of the luggage’s. Leaving him to follow you toward the porch.

Dinner had come quicker than you had hoped. If anything, if you could magically skip over the thing, and still eat, that would’ve been perfect.

All six of you sat at the dining table, forks and knives scratching at ceramic plates. Tommy and Joel had gathered in the back, last minute to cook up some steaks. And, to busy yourself, you helped Maria with the sides while Ellie and Cat got situated in the guest house.

“So, y/n, how’s the book comin’ along?” Joel wondered, putting a cut piece of steak into his mouth.

You made a surprised sound as you chewed your food, rushing to swallow. “Shit, you’re writing a book?” Ellie questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.

Taking a sip of water, you decided to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while.” Your eyes glanced at her, then moved on, quickly, to Joel’s. “It’s… Coming along.” A bashful laugh fell from your lips, as your hand reached for the glass of wine. It was barely touched, red hue swishing in the bulb of the glass as you took a sip. It’s fruity bitterness relishing over your tongue.

“What is it— like fiction or…?” Ellie pressed, genuinely.

“Non-fiction. A book of essay’s, really— written in different forms.” You nodded. “It sounds boring…”

Ellie shrugged, forking a piece of meat into her mouth. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” She responded, with her mouth full.

“It’s the farthest from boring, honey.” Maria massaged your shoulder, sharing a small smile. You mirrored her in return, forking at the vegetables on your plate—perfectly steamed broccoli.

“How’s Brooklyn treating you?” You spoke up, raising your eyebrows.

Ellie lightly glared at Joel before answering, placing her utensils down. “It’s certainly treating me…” She muttered, rubbing her hands together, glancing at her girlfriend.

“It’s a great place for art, but just not Ellie’s art.” Cat chuckled, sipping from her wine glass.

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing.” You nod.

“I recall her using the words: too crowded.” Joel used air quotes to briefly describe the past conversation.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “It makes me feel crowded— the city. When you say it like that, it makes me sound fucking stupid, Joel.”

“You did say crowded.”

“Well, I meant overwhelmed.”

You snickered at their bickering, leaning back in your chair. “Back to your art, I guess you’re experiencing the artistic equivalent to writers block?” Tommy inquired, still chewing on his steak, raising an eyebrow. The auburn-haired young woman nodded, chuckling to herself. “That’s why you’re stayin’ with us for a little while, huh?”

Another record scratch.

You blinked at you father, deepening your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Joel had set his beer on the table, leaning forward. “Yeah, Ellie’s stayin’ with your parents for a little while to get her juices flowing, again.” He explained, pressing his lips into a soft smile. Ellie cringed at his use of the words juices, taking a sip of her beer.

Tommy and Maria told you nothing unless you asked for it for almost everything now—you at least deserved to know that Ellie was staying on the farm indefinitely. After all, when they’re dead and gone, it’ll be yours; so, they could’ve at least told you without you having to ask—that’s big!

“And, I’ll help out so I won’t be sleeping the day away— because I know that I will without a proper schedule.”

“I thought you guys didn’t need a farmhand.” You glanced at your parents, with your eyebrows still deepened with confusion.

Maria chuckled, standing to her feet. “We don’t need anything, but who could say no to a helping hand?” She grabs the empty basket of biscuits from the center of the table. “Anybody want more biscuits?”

“I would love some!” Cat spoke up, holding up a tattooed finger.

“Me too, honey.” Tommy also spoke.

A dry chortle left your lips, leaning against the back of the chair. “Are you staying on the farm, too?” You peered over at the stranger—the girlfriend, with a slight accusatory tone.

Her lips parted a few times before she responded. “Oh, no, I’m going back to Brooklyn. Not much of a country girl.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded, downing the rest of your wine. This week was going to be a doozy. When Maria came back to the table, you snatched a biscuit from the basket, biting into it. There was a perfect crispy layer on the outside, mixed with the perfect gooey, soft innards of the biscuit. “These are so good.” You muttered with your mouth full with its buttery goodness.

On your hip, your phone buzzed. Cursing under your breath, you plucked the cellphone from your belt, flicking it open. It was your agent calling you at eight o’clock at night. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.” You scooted the chair back, pressing the green button. “It’s late, Isa.” You started the call, stalking out of the room like the corporate woman you are. Taking the route up the stairs to your old bedroom.

“I need that new chapter by tomorrow morning— as in, 8am.” She scolded on the other line. “I’m personally reminding you. Since you couldn’t respond to my emails.”

You sighed, shutting your bedroom door behind you. “Isa, I’ve been traveling all day on public transport, and I’ve been trying to have family time— is that not what Thanksgiving is about?”

“You’re writer, hon. You have little bit of family time, then you hermit to finish your work— now, stop giving me grief. Time is of the essence.” Her smooth voice told, chuckling after her words. “I’ll be anticipating you’re new chapter tomorrow at eight! Have a great night.”

“Have a great night…”

Slapping your phone shut, you sighed, running your other hand over your face. Being a writer was relentless—just as relentless as you and your roommate’s neighbors. But, instead of lingering in frustration, you grabbed your heavy laptop and propped yourself on the cushion beside your window—your reading nook. Not forgetting to put a Sade tape inside of your stereo for some background music, before you began to diligently work.

You typed at your computer, rapid clicking sounds filling your ears. Although, it was no surprise that you worked your hardest after the sun set—it was like you had one too many espresso shots.

Every word was coming from the heart, and coincidentally enough, the guests at your home made it easier. This chapter was definitely reflecting the feelings you felt the day of Ellie’s seventeenth birthday. You used imagery and metaphors to describe that feeling of attack—being backed into a corner, having the worst part of yourself brought into the light. And, like most of your pieces, it was dredging it all back up again; the emotions.

That feeling of losing the only person that truly understood you.

Of course, you had a few relationships since then—a few, trying to chase that same feeling you felt when your hands touched. But there wasn’t anyone who could compare to her. How pathetic was it to still be harping on a highschool sweetheart?

Hours passed under the radar. Your parents being the mile marker in your work, knocking on the door to let you know everyone was heading to bed. Too busy with outlining new ideas, you barely spared them a glance, muttering a smooth goodnight.

It was about one in the morning by the time you finished the chapter. Still, it needed some tweaking, but it was good enough to send to your agent for the editor to look at.

Shutting your laptop, you finally took in your old bedroom. Various music artists slapped against your soft pink walls, attached with tape—some corners hanging off. Catwoman figurines lining the back of your large, white, wooden dresser; with comics stacked alongside them. Stacks of old books in the corner of your room, stacked from the floor to the middle of her wall. If you were to stumble into them, they’d experience one hell of a fall.

Suddenly, curiosity struck.

Hopping from the cushioned seat under your paneled window, you looked under your bed. Reaching for an old shoebox that was filled with many, many interesting things. You slid it from under the dusty bed frame, taking it back to that plushy seat you appreciated so dearly. Plucking the top off, you released a sigh. Immediately being hit with polaroids of yourself as a teenager—mostly standing beside, laughing with, and cuddling Ellie.

They were the photos you snatched from your wall after that fight. Oh, she looked the same. Still had that uncertainty in her earthy, olive eyes. You didn’t understand it then, and you most definitely didn’t understand it now. Ellie didn’t have to feel the uncertainty she was used to in foster care. She had people who believed in her—who will always believe in her.

Sifting through, your hands hovered over a letter she wrote. It was an apology letter sent around the time of her eighteenth birthday—almost a full year since the situation. The envelope was ripped open from the day you received it; stained with salty, heartbroken tears.

If only that day never happened…

A startling knock sounded at your window. It was no more than a pebble, which was confirmed when another launched within your sights. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you unlocked it, pulling it upwards. Once you peaked your head outside into the brisk, cool weather, a small smile spread onto your lips.

“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’ up there?” Ellie called from below. “I brought a little somethin’… Thought you could use a break from writing.” She waved a tightly rolled joint in her hands—which could only be seen if you squinted.

The corners of your lips spread wider, feeling horribly nostalgic. “You’re actually a little too late on that front. I finished a few minutes ago,” You pressed your lips into a line, continuing. “But I could never turn down smoke break. I’ll be down in a second.”

Dropping the letter, you scooted off the seat to grab your jacket. Stuffing your feet into the semi-stained Uggs you wore into the ground, before fleeing your bedroom. You didn’t feel the need to sneak down the stairs, but a part of you wanted to—to relieve that feeling of adrenaline you felt in your youth.

Ellie met you at the back door, holding open the creaking screen door as you exited. “I honestly wasn’t sure you still did this.” She chuckled, looking at the ground as you both began to walk away from the house. Putting some distance so the smell wouldn’t upset the elders in the home.

“What? Smoke weed?” You perked an eyebrow. “You think because I went all corporate, I stopped being down?”

“Actually… Yeah.” She responded, nervously snickering.

The two ofyou settled in front of this white-lined shed that was illuminated by the two warm, orange-toned lights on either side of the door. “Well, you’re kind of right…” You admitted, squinting your eyes, embarrassed. It’s hard being known for your adaptability. “I try to keep the pot smoking to a minimum. In the corporate world they test you for it.”

Ellie pulled the joint from behind her ear, placing it between her lips. She shook her head in response to your words. “Says the cigarette smoker…” She joked, eyeing you, teasingly. While she flicked her lighter to burn the tip.

“Hey, they don’t give a rats ass about nicotine— I need to make up for that loss somehow. I’m a writer for christ’s sake.”

When she finally gets it to catch the fire, she took two puffs before passing it to you between her index and thumb. “Where’s Cat?” You innocently questioned, taking a hit of the joint, then looking at it, before taking another hit.

Ellie became rigid, releasing an exasperated sigh from her lips. “The guesthouse, watchin’ some movie.”

You handed her the joint. “What, is she not down?” Mocking your previous words, with amused eyes. However, her demeanor had quickly shifted.

“She gets easily frustrated after traveling all day…” She shook her head in a dismissive way, like she didn’t want any further questions to asked.

“Hm… That’s relatable.”

Silence engulfed the both of you as you passed the blunt back and forth until it was nothing more than a roach. Hearing nothing but the distant wind chimes sounding off on the porch.

Before speaking, Ellie took a deep breath, glancing over at you as if she were nervous to make eye contact. “I hope me stayin’ here for a little bit doesn’t bother you too much.”

Her words were double-take worthy, you looked over at her with expressive eyes—widening, in surprise. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?” You leaned your shoulder on the shed, kicking one leg over the other.

“You didn’t seem like the biggest fan—“

“Ellie, I was surprised. That’s all.” You waved your hand, shaking your head. “I feel like they don’t tell me shit anymore…” Shoulders shrugging, you glance toward the house standing tall in all its glory. “They didn’t tell me about you moving to Brooklyn, either. What does it look like when someone you’ve known your whole life moves to a city you’re actually familiar with and they’re not, and you don’t reach out to help them? I’m only a forty minute train ride away.” You rambled, deepening your eyebrows. “They basically made me look like an asshole.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d react if you knew about Ellie’s moving to the big city. Knowing your habits, you’d probably sit by the phone for hours before making the move to give her a call. But, it’s not like you were given the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. Now, it just appeared that you forgot about her—or could care less about her endeavors; which is farthest from the truth.

Her full lips cracked into a smile, chuckling. The auburn-haired woman, mirrored your position, leaning her shoulder against the wooden shed. “Always worried about what you look like…” She muttered, sucking her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re an asshole— you just didn’t know.” Ellie shrugged. “It’s not like we talk as much as we used to…”

As much as we used to. That kind of stung.

Your eyes averted to the gravel under your boots. “Yeah…” There was an awkward beat that took its place between you. Swallowing, you shooed it away with speaking up. “What about your art? You’re living in one of the most creative cities in the world, and you can’t create?”

She puffed air from her lips, glancing in the direction of the guesthouse, priming her lips. “Okay… Confession— but only if what’s said here stays here.”

“What’s said at the shed, stays at the shed.” You affirm, holding a hand and crossing to fingers. The high from what you smoked clouding your mind, squinting your eyes and loosening your inhibitions.

“Cat and I moved in together pretty early— too early… I needed a roommate and she was the perfect option.” Ellie began, carefully. Olive eyes shifting under the dim light in thought. “I swear ever since I moved in with her… The inspiration to make anything new is fucking gone.” She ran her hand over her hair, which was actually loose without a hair tie. Dusting over her shoulders, pieces pushed behind her ears. “She, you know, hovers a lot— in a sweet way, it’s just irritating because not even her pushing me can be inspiring.”

Your heart skipped a beat; it was hopeful—you really are an asshole! “Damn… So, it’s not the city that makes you feel crowded. It’s Cat.” You hum, nodding your head, taking in your assumption. “And… You think staying here will help? Doing boring farm work?” A chuckle falls from your lips, borderline nervous, borderline humored.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I spent a lot of time here growin’ up…” Ellie looked at you, knowingly. “It was never boring when we did it together.”

“That’s because we were doing it together. I’m not gonna be here while you’re shoveling horse shit.” You chortled, peering at her through hazy eyes. She giggled and it sounded like music to your ears. It’s been awhile since you heard her laugh from something you said. Weed always did have a way of bringing people together.

“Well, maybe before you go, you could help me out. Jog my memory.” Ellie offered, raising her eyebrows. “It’s either you or suffering through Tommy’s jokes for hours—“

“I don’t mind, but we might have to jog each others memory.”

“Hey, you can take the girl out the country, but not the country out the girl.” She shrugged. “I have faith in you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, a smile spread on your lips. “You’re still so corny.” Shaking your head, a laugh slips. Wrapping your arms around your body, you acknowledge the cool weather. It pricked at your exposed skin, and even through your jacket. “It’s getting late…”

She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I appreciate the joint— I needed it.” You pushed off the shed wall, licking your lips. In preparation to meander back toward the house, you rocked on your feet. “There’s some left over biscuits on the counter…” You drawled, but it was all right because Ellie had filled in for you.

“I’m fucking starving.”

Then, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder back inside. Giggling at stupid jokes, surfing over any of the past debacles you had. Turns out reconvening with your childhood lover wasn’t so bad after all. For now, anyway.

[interact-if]

Writing Spotlight: Infamous (Interview)

We had the great pleasure to interview Amy, author of the massively beloved IF Infamous (@infamous-if). She shared some tips, tricks, and insights on her approach to writing.

One of the most notable things about Infamous is how quickly readers get sucked into its world and invested in its web of characters — be it Orion or Blake or G or Victoria or the slightly controversial Seven. They are all incredibly multi-faceted, complex, and sometimes heartbreakingly real.

Amy says:

“I’ve read something by a writer once that I’ve followed faithfully: you should always know what’s happening in the other room. Even if it won’t be available to readers, it helps establish the world and characters as real, tangible things that don’t just poof out of existence once they walk ‘off-screen’ so to speak.”

Here’s the full interview:

1. What drew you to interactive fiction as a storytelling medium? Did you have any experience writing in other formats before, and if so, would you say there’s any differences in the way writing for IFs should be approached?

There’s so much about writing interactive fiction that I love, but I think the main one is the freedom that comes with it! There are so many ideas I can explore, so many endings and storylines. It’s just as fun for writers as it is for readers to push the limits of what their world and characters can do. You can truly sink your teeth into it and develop the story in ways you don’t see often. 

Coming from writing traditional fiction and having never written an interactive story before, I did need to change my mindset a little. You have to learn to be flexible. Very often, I’m writing routes I wouldn’t particularly take as a reader, and it’s interesting to go against my gut to offer a varied experience. I’ve discovered a lot of fun things about Infamous and its characters from routes I would never take if I were reading it in another IF!

2. What does your writing process look like?

I am a plotter to my core! I am endlessly envious of writers who can pants their way through a scene or a chapter. I need to outline every single beat, every scene, every conversation. The plot comes to me first and then I slowly build the main character around that and ask myself what kind of story I want to tell with that main character.

The MC in Infamous leans heavily into the ‘underdog’ trope. That’s how I got much of MC’s personality from. The main thing I ask myself when building the main character is: what do they have, what do they want, and what do they need? I use that to inform the rest of the cast and the stats. My main goal is that every piece works in tandem with the others. They all make sense in my head! 

3. What does good writing / good characters / good world-building etc. mean to you, and what are some central tenets or principles you follow to achieve that? 

A story that gets me invested is a success in my eyes. I want to care for the characters and feel like the world is one that truly exists somewhere. I’ve read something by a writer once that I’ve followed faithfully: you should always know what’s happening in the other room. Even if it won’t be available to readers, it helps establish the world and characters as real, tangible things that don’t just poof out of existence once they walk ‘off-screen’ so to speak. The characters had lives before the story started, people they knew and things they’ve experienced. It informs their personalities and builds them what they are once you meet them on page.

The world is still turning even while the main character is asleep. Things are still happening everywhere…even when we don’t see it. That’s how I try to approach every story to bring it to life. 

4. What’s one piece of advice you’d give to someone just starting out in interactive fiction?

Be firm! It’s so easy to get swept up in the excitement of having an audience and wanting to keep that audience. It’s not uncommon to make the mistake of overpromising to please every reader. You won’t be able to, trust me! You’ll only write yourself in a corner. It’s healthy to find a good balance between sticking to your gut and accepting/being open to suggestions. 

A tinier one but: know your endings! It’s best to know what you’re writing toward. It’ll be so much easier to stick to the story and avoid meandering through the plot if you know how each route ends. Everything I write is to get to that ending in one way or the other.

5. Where do you find your ideas or inspiration for new stories or mechanics?Where did your story idea originate? Has it strayed far from that concept/evolved during the writing process? 

I guess it’s quite on brand to say that almost every story idea I’ve had came from a song, Infamous included. My head is always thinking of songs as potential needle drops or playlists as movie soundtracks. Infamous in particular, was formed from Brie Larson’s cover of Black Sheep in the Scott Pilgrim movie. It features a Battle of the Bands sequence that made me want to read a story with the same concept. I scoured and scoured for a band IF that scratched that particular itch but didn’t find any. Eventually, I gave in and did it myself! That’s one of the best parts of the community; you can just do it. 

Surprisingly, this is one of the few stories of mine that hasn’t strayed far from the original idea. I think it helps that I’m writing exactly what I wanted to read once upon a time.

End of interview

—

A big thanks once again to Amy for her insightful answers, and @veswrites-if for taking the time to coordinate the interview. Hope that this was a fun and interesting read.

Stay tuned for more of these interviews :)

[formulaonecrumbs]

hi!! i’ve just like binge read all of your stuff and it’s so beautifully written

do you think you could do a charles fic with the co-parenting to lovers trope? like their kid helps them get together or like he flys out to see their kid and realizes that life is so much better with them? i have a whole like plot im sorry 😭

stay a little longer 🕯️

Charles Leclerc x ex(?)!reader

summary: co-parenting finally turns into something more when their daughter decides it’s time for a date.

warnings: co-parenting to lovers, kid matchmaker, suggestive content, kissing, car makeout, implied smut, love confessions, second chances

A/N: thank u anon for the requuessttt!!! i feel like i still don’t write charles very well 😭 like yes i believe the guy is romantic but i think i made that his whole personality in this WHOOPS. random but i love when drivers have girlfriends cuz now i got sm material for the mood-boards. i hope u enjoy it and as always love u ❤️

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

you never expected him to show up.

not like this, not without warning, not with that soft look in his eyes and a suitcase in his hand.

it’s been almost six months since you saw charles leclerc in person. six months since he kissed your cheek at the airport and promised he’d try to visit more. six months of facetime calls with your daughter holding your phone too close to her face, grinning with her tiny teeth and telling him she lost another one. six months of you pretending that you were completely fine raising her mostly alone while he chased podiums around the world.

but now he’s standing on your porch like it’s nothing. like he’s not the father of your child and also the person who once broke your heart in the softest, most unintentional way.

“hi,” he says.

you blink. “charles? what—what are you doing here?”

he looks down at his shoes. he’s wearing sneakers that used to live in your hallway. the ones your daughter would trip over every time she tried to run to the door. “i had a week off. i wanted to see her.”

you let him in because you always do. because she misses him even when she doesn’t say it, and because you’ve never been able to fully close the door on him.

your daughter screams ‘daddy!’ the second she hears him. he drops his bag and catches her mid-run, spinning her around in the tiny living room you’ve made your home. you watch from the kitchen, hands still on the mug you were making, heart doing something stupid and warm and dangerous in your chest.

“you’re not leaving tonight, are you?” she asks him, small hands on his cheeks.

he shakes his head. “not tonight. not for a few days, actually.”

and you swear, you see her little face light up with something more than excitement. something like hope.

it’s not supposed to be easy, but it is.

charles fits back into your space like he never left. he sleeps on the couch and does the dishes after dinner. he drives her to school in the mornings and makes up silly songs about brushing her teeth. he folds laundry while you’re at work and lets her paint his nails on the weekends.

and you keep waiting for it to feel like a mistake. to feel like a tease, like you’re slipping back into something that already ended.

but instead, it feels like healing.

like late nights where he sits across from you, whispering stories about races she’s too young to hear. like laughing over wine after she’s gone to bed, both of you tipsy on nostalgia and something heavier. something that tastes like maybe.

he doesn’t flirt. not really. but sometimes, he looks at you like he remembers every moment you ever shared. and sometimes, when he thinks you’re not paying attention, he stares at you like you hung the stars.

it happens on a tuesday.

you’re rushing to get out the door for work. your daughter can’t find her other shoe and you’ve already yelled twice, which always makes you feel like a terrible mother. charles is standing in the kitchen, packing her lunch like he’s done it every morning for the past year instead of the last five days.

and then she says it.

“daddy, are you staying forever now?”

you freeze. so does he.

“because i think you should,” she continues, completely unaware of the tension she’s stirred up. “you make mommy laugh again. and you’re really good at pancakes.”

charles doesn’t look at you. he kneels down and kisses her forehead. “i love you, chérie,” he says quietly.

you don’t talk about it.

not until later, when she’s asleep and you’re both sitting on the back steps with a blanket around your shoulders and the sky full of stars.

“she wants us to be a family,” you whisper.

charles’s voice is soft. “i do too.”

your chest tightens. “charles…”

“i know,” he says. “i know i left. i know i haven’t been here like i should have. and i’m not trying to ask you to just forget it. but i want to be here now. not just for her. for you, too.”

you stare at your hands. your heart. the little cracks that never quite healed after he left.

“why now?” you ask.

he takes a breath. “because every time i see her smile, i see you. and every time i talk to her, i wish you were beside me. and because… i thought i was doing the right thing. giving you space. letting you live your life without the mess of mine. but i’ve never been more wrong.”

you look at him. really look. and he looks scared. vulnerable in a way he never is behind the wheel. and you realize, in this quiet moment under the stars, that maybe you’ve been scared too.

you don’t say anything. you just reach out, take his hand, and let your fingers intertwine like they never stopped knowing how to.

he moves in slowly.

a toothbrush at first. then a drawer. then he’s picking her up from school without you asking, buying groceries like he knows the list by heart. you fall back into love like it’s muscle memory. slow, steady, familiar. this time, without the fear.

your daughter starts calling you her “mommy and daddy house.” she draws pictures of the three of you holding hands, all smiling with the sun in the corner.

one night, she asks if you and daddy are married again.

charles chuckles. “not yet, chérie.”

you shoot him a look. “not funny.”

he leans in, his voice low against your ear. “it could be.”

and you feel it again—that dangerous, stupid hope that maybe this time, it’s real.

because he came back. because he stayed. because your little girl believed in love enough to put it back together. and because this time, you’re ready to believe in it too.

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

she catches you holding his hand in the kitchen.

it’s not a big deal, really. just fingers brushing as you pass him the milk. but charles catches your pinky with his, gives it a gentle squeeze, and you smile in that way you only ever do with him.

your daughter sees it all from her seat at the table, eating cereal like it’s the most important meal of her life.

“are you guys in love again?” she asks, spoon halfway to her mouth.

charles pauses, milk almost spilling over the edge of his glass. “what?”

“you heard me,” she says, chewing dramatically.

you shoot charles a look. he shrugs, trying not to laugh.

“i think you are,” she continues, totally unfazed. “you look at each other like the people in mommy’s movies. and you sleep on the couch together sometimes. and daddy made you pancakes in a heart shape.”

you can’t even deny that one. he really did.

“okay,” she says, pushing her bowl away. “it’s time.”

“time for what?” you ask, even though you already know.

“you’re going on a date.”

charles raises an eyebrow. “we are?”

she nods. “yes. i’ll stay with mamie. and you two can go somewhere fancy. with candles and music. and then you’ll kiss.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “what is it with you and kissing lately?”

she grins. “uncle pierre says it’s how people fall in love.”

charles makes a face. “i’m going to block his number.”

you get ready while she helps charles pick out a shirt. you hear her scolding him for choosing the boring grey one and insisting he wears the one with the tiny flowers because “mommy likes when you look like a soft boy.”

you come out in a dress that hasn’t seen the light of day in years and charles just stands there, looking like he forgot how to breathe.

“wow,” he says softly. “you look…”

you raise a brow. “like a soft girl?”

he laughs. “like the girl i’ve been in love with since before i even knew it.”

you blink.

he smiles, nervous and sweet and very charles. “too much?”

“no,” you say, cheeks warm. “just enough.”

you drive to a little italian restaurant tucked away in the quieter part of town. it’s dimly lit, with fairy lights above the patio and old music playing inside. it’s romantic in a kind of unintentional way. the kind of place that doesn’t try too hard because it doesn’t need to.

charles pulls your chair out for you and keeps glancing across the table like he’s still trying to figure out if this is real.

“this feels weird,” you say, sipping your wine. “in a good way. but weird.”

he nods. “like we’re pretending we’re not already a family.”

you smile. “yeah.”

“but i want this too,” he adds, eyes soft. “the dating part. the butterflies.”

you meet his gaze. “you still get butterflies?”

he reaches across the table, lacing your fingers with his. “every time you look at me like this.”

and god, you feel it too. that flutter. that full-body warmth that only ever comes when you’re really, really falling.

after dinner, he takes your hand and suggests a walk. it’s chilly but not cold, and the stars are out like someone painted them just for tonight.

“this is the part where we kiss under the moonlight,” you joke, bumping your shoulder into his.

charles stops walking.

“what?” you ask, turning.

he steps closer. “i was waiting for the right moment.”

your breath catches. “is this it?”

he nods, eyes flicking to your mouth. “yeah. i think it is.”

and when he kisses you, it’s slow and soft and everything you’ve been missing for years. it’s full of promises and apologies and second chances. it tastes like wine and laughter and home.

you stay like that for a long time, under the stars and the streetlamp, kissing like you’re twenty and just discovering how good it feels to be wanted.

when you get home, the lights are low and the house is quiet. your daughter is asleep, curled up in her bed with her stuffed giraffe and the nightlight glowing faintly beside her.

charles shuts the door gently behind you.

you turn to him, heart racing, still a little breathless from the night.

“so…” you whisper.

he walks toward you, slow, eyes locked on yours. “so.”

“was this the part where we’re supposed to kiss again?”

he nods, grinning. “definitely.”

he backs you into the couch and kisses you until you’re both laughing and gasping and tangled in each other. his hands in your hair, your arms around his neck, the world spinning just slightly off its axis in the best way.

“we probably shouldn’t wake her,” you mumble against his mouth.

“then we’ll be quiet,” he whispers back, kissing down your neck.

you end up in the car—because it’s late and you can’t quite make it upstairs, and also because there’s something wildly thrilling about being wrapped around each other in the dark leather seats, trying not to fog up the windows too much.

his hands on your thighs, your lips tracing every freckle on his collarbone, his voice low and hoarse as he says your name like a prayer.

after, you sit in the front seat, legs curled into his lap, his hand resting gently on your bare knee.

“we should do this again,” you say, grinning against his shoulder.

charles kisses your temple. “i plan on it.”

and you believe him. completely.

because this time, he’s not just here for the night. this time, he’s here to stay.

THE END :>