#& now i just need 3 more classes ! i was reading about all the jobs i can get with my degree and im just like woa . the world is my oyster<3

[mossfeed]

my biology class starts tomorrow :3

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

[scarletlizzard]

Older

Music Series

Pairing: professor!Wanda x fem!Reader

Tags Minors DNI: older/younger (college), mommy kink, smut, choking, fingering & strap on use (R receiving), little overstimulation, praise or degradation kink? why not both, just shameless smut sorry

A/N: This is based on the song Older by Isabel LaRosa! This was requested. Thanks for reading, gladly appreciate any feedback. Thank you! 😊🩷

Masterlist

Wanda watches from her chair as you lean across the desk in front of her, your ass in the air with your skirt pulled down. Her hands reach out to caress your hips, touching the soft skin she can see. When her fingers reach your panties, she begins to pull them down, seeing a sticky string of wetness on your thigh.

"Please, Professor... I need you so bad," you moan and look back at her. Wanda stares in your eyes, her fingers dipping inside of you. You were soaking wet, and she knew it was all for her, your hot walls squeezing her fingers as she thrusted them inside you.

"Ohh, God! Miss Maximoff! " You moan again, Wanda feels herself becoming wetter as you push your hips back against her.

"Miss Maximoff..."

The image of you bent over her desk begins to fade.

"Miss Maximoff? " She hears your voice again.

Wanda blinks and clears her throat, her eyes meeting yours. Only this time, you're standing in front of her desk instead of lying across it. Students around the room were packing their bags and heading towards the door.

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?" She asks and blinks a few more times, looking up from the papers she was supposed to be grading.

This had been happening more often the closer to the end of the semester came. Wanda was a professor at the university you attended. She had been a professor for a while now and absolutely loved her job, the life she was able to live with the money it paid, and being able to teach young minds. Every semester, she saw hundreds of faces, sometimes not being able to remember all of the names.

But then you walked in the first day of this spring semester with a cute smile on your face, eyes sparkling up at her as you greeted her.

Something about you and the way you acted towards her had Wanda questioning all of her morals.

To be fair, you couldn't help it... when you saw Wanda Maximoffs name on your schedule, you knew what you wanted. Your friends had told you all about her from when they took her class, and you'd seen her walking around campus before. She was exactly what you needed after failed relationship after relationship.

Someone older, someone as hot as she is.

So as the semester went on, you began wearing more revealing clothes, leaving very little to the imagination. At the end of every class, you would find yourself leaning over her desk, watching as Wanda struggled to keep eye contact with you.

"I don't think I really understood today's lesson. Do you think you could give me some extra help?" You would ask her, batting your eyelashes. Wanda swallowed hard and looked around the empty room, running a hand through her firey hair.

"My last class gets out at 3:30. You can meet me back here at 4." She said with a smile, muscle tensing in your grasp as you touched her arm.

"Thank you so much, Professor. .."

And that was how you started your extra 'tutoring' sessions with Wanda. Every day at 4, you would meet her in her class and shut the door behind you. You were a straight A student, clearly not needing any help, so the entire time was spent flirting and laughing, lots of lingering looks and touches.

As time went on, you couldn't help but stare at the ring on her finger. One afternoon, she caught you and gave a soft smile, finding herself needing to explain it to you. But as she opened her mouth, she realized you were her student and nothing more.

"It's complicated," she sighs, deciding not to share. You nod and rest your hand on top of hers, using your other hand to flip the pages of your book. She didn't move away.

'It's complicated' was good enough for you to want - no, need more from her.

So the next day you showed up to her classroom after hours, and when you shut the door, you strutted over to her where she sat at her desk.

"Hey Y/N, what -" Wanda said with an eyebrow raised. She watched as you moved between her and her desk, situating yourself between her legs.

"How long are we gonna play this game for?" You asked in a sultry voice, your hand playing with the top button of her blouse.

"Y/N... this is highly inappropriate. I-I don't know what you're talking about," she spoke sternly, but the look in her eyes and the way she didn't move away was all you needed to continue.

"I'm talking about where we pretend you don't want to fuck me." Your hands moved to the bottom of your skirt, fingers pulling the fabric slowly over the skin of your thighs. "Cmon, Wanda, I can be your little secret... I know you think about me. Do you imagine fucking me right here?" You asked and bite your lip, watching her hands ball into fists.

"I told you to call me Miss Maximoff." Wanda said, not denying a word you spoke.

You leaned forward, hands moved to rub her thighs as your lips touched her ear.

"I'd rather call you mommy..."

Wanda groaned at your words, and in a quick second, she had you bent over her desk, your hands behind your back as her hips pressed against your ass. A moan escaped your lips as your cheek hit the wooden surface. Your hips moved back against her, causing another low sound from Wandas throat.

Before she could do anything else, she quickly released you, panting from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Wanda runs a hand through her hair and straightens out your skirt, stepping away from you. You frown at her actions, hating the way her hands weren't on you anymore.

"You're my student, Y/N. I can't risk it," She said with a cold tone to you, eyes dark with lust.

"Only for a little longer!" You argued her, frowning and crossing your arms.

"You're too young," Wanda said softly and shook her head. Her fingers ran over her lips after she spoke.

You didn't have anything to say at that. You ran out of the room with tearful eyes and an ache in your stomach, not stopping when she called out your name.

That was two weeks ago, and you hadn't been back to her class after hours since. Though every morning Wanda greeted you with that charming fucking smile and a, "Good morning, Y/N," slipping off her tongue in the nicest voice.

Which brings you back to today, standing in front of her as she stared at you with those same dark eyes from two weeks ago. You raise an eyebrow at her demeanor.

"I just wanted to say thanks for all the..." You eye the students leaving the classroom. "...extra help this semester." You clear your throat and adjust the bag on your shoulder. Wanda nods slowly, the image of her fingers inside of you now stuck in her head.

"Of course, Miss Y/L/N. You're a very bright young lady, you know that? Wise beyond your years," Wanda says with a smile, and she truly meant it. You sigh softly with a nod and head towards the door as everyone else had left.

"I'd like to go over your final paper with you, if you don't mind?" You hear her say, and your heart begins to race.

"4?" You ask, turning your head to look at her. She nods.

***

You hear the wood creak as Wanda closes the door. The clicking of the lock makes you squeeze your thighs together as you sit in the chair she put in front of her desk.

You take in her appearance, a white blouse hugging her top and dark slacks on her lower half that she usually wore. She took her red hair out of the bun she had and let her hair fall down her shoulders. She always looks so effortlessly beautiful, always so perfect.

"Is something wrong with my paper?" You ask tentatively, watching her sit across the desk from you.

Wanda folds her hands together on the desk, studying your face carefully. "It was brilliant, Y/N. One of the best I received, actually," she chuckles a little. You blush at her praise and watch as her smile slides into a smirk.

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff." You swallow hard, feeling the tension between the two of you grow in the quiet room. You hear the clock on the wall behind Wanda ticking almost as loudly as your heart was beating in your ears.

"Since I'm no longer your teacher, you don't have to call me that," she says and leans back in her chair.

"Oh, so I can call you Wanda now?" You say playfully, taking in the way she slides the ring off her finger and puts it in a drawer of her desk.

"I'd rather you call me something else," Wanda says, and you can feel your body heat up, realizing she was quoting your last conversation.

You stand from your chair and walk around the desk, feeling her eyes on you as you do. "Something specific?" You tease, standing between her and her desk, once again.

"Are you going to make me ask?" She says and tilts her head, looking up to you. Her hands reach out to rest on your hips as she stands from the chair. It's your turn to look up to her.

"Maybe," you tease again with a shrug, a gasp leaving your mouth when she lifts you easily onto the desk.

Wanda puts herself between your legs, the space between the two of you filled with her presence. You could smell the expensive perfume she wore and the mint on her breath as she leaned in. She chuckles lowly at the goosebumps that arise on your arms.

"I'm not going to be the one begging," she whispers in your ear, a finger under your chin as she leans back and forces your head up.

The two of you lean in at the same time, lips moving in sync as your arms move to wrap around her. Her lips are softer than you could have ever imagined, and you could taste the mint you smelled earlier on her tongue as she explores your mouth.

"I've wanted to kiss you like this since the first time you walked in this room," Wanda groans into your mouth and you can only whine in reply as your hands move to unbutton her blouse.

Her hands make quick work of undoing your jeans, and you wish you hadn't stopped wearing skirts after she told you she couldn't be with you. But those thoughts are quickly replaced with watching Wanda slide your pants and panties down together.

Wanda can't help but moan quietly at the sight of your already wet thighs, sticky with your arousal just like in her dream. She looks in your eyes as two fingers press onto your clit, your mouth parting at the feeling.

"So wet for me already, and I haven't even done anything yet..." She sighs, rubbing circles as your hands grip desperately onto her now open shirt.

"Please, Miss Maximoff... I need you so bad," you moan her name. She almost thinks she's dreaming again until she slips her fingers inside of you, feeling your warm walls squeeze her fingers just as she thought they would. Even better than she imagined.

"What was that, baby?" Her fingers stay still inside of you, her eyes watching your red cheeks.

"Please... mommy?" You ask and bite your lip, her fingers suddenly moving inside of you was all you needed to know that was what she wanted to hear.

"You hear that? You hear how wet you are for me?" She asks, the filthy sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of you fill the empty room. "Fucking gorgeous sounds baby," Wanda groans at the feeling of you squeezing her fingers.

"Yes, mommy, I-I'm so wet for you! Your fingers feel so good," you moan and buck your hips pathetically against her hand.

"You feel so good clenching around my fingers, taking me so well, baby.. you gonna cum already huh?" Wanda says in a condescending tone with a smirk on her lips. Her fingers pick up pace, and you moan at the feeling of her knuckle deep inside of your pussy. The fingers you had imagined so many times inside of you, finally curling and drawing an orgasm out of you. Your body shakes as you come, stomach tightening as you soak her fingers.

"Fuck - Wanda!" You let out, feeling her fingers pump inside of you through your climax.

When she sees your body calm, Wanda removes her fingers, a whimper leaving your mouth as you clench around nothing. Your legs squeeze Wandas hips when she puts her fingers in front of your lips.

"Open up, sweetheart. Taste yourself, see how good mommy made you feel," she says and moves her other hand to cup under your chin.

You comply and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. When she puts her fingers in your mouth, you suck hard and look up at her with innocent eyes. Batting your eyelashes, you lick between her fingers, a low moan illiciting from the back of her throat.

Something seemed to snap inside of Wanda as you did that, and she quickly removed them and lifted your shirt over your head before taking a step back. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra only drove Wanda more crazy.

"Turn around, baby, and stick your ass up... let me see that pretty pussy," she says with dark eyes, her hands unzipping her slacks to pull out a red strap. Your eyes widen at the sight and she chuckles. "It's okay sweetheart, you can take it. We'll make it fit, won't we?" She asks and watches as you nod and turn around.

You bend over the desk, lifting your ass up and looking back at her, always so fucking innocently. Wanda hums at the sight and guides her strap up and down your wet pussy, sliding part of it in easily.

"I've dreamed of this," she says, and you didn't know she literally had.

You grip onto the wood in front of you, eyes squeezing closed as she pushes herself deeper inside of you. Her hands rub your back and hips soothingly.

"Mommy -fuck- want to take all of you," you whimper out.

"Oh don't worry, sweetheart, you will," she coos and fills you up completely, the fabric of her pants rubbing against your ass as you push back onto her hips.

Once she's bottomed out, she reaches forward to grab your hands, placing them behind your back and holding them there tightly with one hand. Again, all too familiar from your last meeting with her, only this time you've gotten your way. Her hips begin to move slowly at first, but once your whimpers turn into moans, she can no longer hold back.

"This is all you wanted, isn't it, sweetheart? To be fucked and filled with mommys cock like a good little slut," Wanda breathes out as she rails into you.

"Yes, mommy! I-" You stop mid sentence and half moan half whine as your cheek rubs against the wood with every thrust, her hips hitting yours roughly. You clench around the length of her cock, every word driving you closer ro another orgasm.

With one hand holding yours behind your back, the other smacks your ass sharply. "You can't even talk, can you baby? Is mommy fucking you dumb? What happened to my smart girl?" She chuckles, again in a condescending tone.

But she wasn't wrong. You were at the point of whining, and gasping breathes with each thrust feeling deeper than the next. All your teasing and taunting Wanda through the semester, and this was all it took to finally shut you up.

Not that either of you would complain.

The desk scratches against the floor as she pounds into you, the sounds of the wood creaking underneath the weight of you and her fucking into your wet pussy fill the room, accompanied by your whimpers and half sentences.

"Feels so -"

Another moan.

"So, so good, mommy!"

Another whimper.

Wandas hand palms your ass cheek roughly before you feel her nails digging into your hips. She feels more resistance as she pumps in and out of you, your walls clenching tightly.

"You're close, aren't you, sweetheart?" She groans at the whimper that leaves your mouth, and she pushes herself harder into you. For a second, you feel like the desk would break. "Alright baby, you better be a good girl and cum for mommy..." She says and the praise is all you need to release all over Wandas strap, your wetness spreading and dripping onto your thighs.

The scrapping of the desk stops as she slows her thrusts, her hand releasing your hands from her grip. The two of you sit there for a moment breathing heavily, and Wanda leans forward to kiss your cheek.

"Such a good girl for me, you took me so well, baby... that's it. Just take a minute." Her hands move to lift you up, not removing the cock from inside of you. She sits down in her chair and brings you with her, sitting you in her lap.

"I-I can't take anymore," you breathe out and shake your head, wincing at the feeling of how full she felt inside of you, the way she stretched you out completely.

"Shhh," Wanda coos in a soothing voice, placing sweet kisses on your back and shoulder. "Just one more baby, one more for mommy. There you go, baby just like that," she says, guiding you to move your hips.

Any pain had quickly turned to pleasure as you moved in her lap, your back pressing against her front as you leaned back. Her hips met yours with every bounce, and you tears threatened to escape with how good you felt.

"Such a good girl for mommy, aren't you?" She asks, you feel her left hand grope your breasts, fingers squeezing your nipple as her right hand moves up your side slowly, gripping your throat.

"Y-Yes, mommy, just for you. I'm -oh fuck- I'm so close," you whine as her fingers squeeze either side of your neck. You feel the air escape your throat just enough to feel your chest tighten.

Wanda moans at the feeling of your pulse quicken under her thumb. She was practically holding you up at this point. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, and her left hand moves down to rub your swollen clit. You let out a gasp at the pleasure of the overstimulation of it all.

"That's it, baby, just like that. You're doing so good for mommy," she praises in your ear, her lips moving against the skin just underneath. Wandas hips move more roughly up into you, her grip tightening around your throat.

Your hands move up to grip onto her arm, nails digging into the sleeves of her shirt as she forces another orgasm out of you.

"Mommy, I'm coming!" You whine as your body trembles against her, your legs failing you as she holds you up tightly in her lap.

"Fuck sweetheart, just-just hold on mommy's gonna cum too," Wanda groans against your neck and continues to pound into you from underneath you as she chases her own high. You were beyond overstimulated at this point, and the tears that threatened to fall from earlier flowed freely down your cheeks now.

Wandas thrusts begin to waver, and as she moans against your skin, her hand squeezes your throat again, the muscles in her arm tensing as she comes.

She removes her hand from your throat and clit and instead wraps her arms around you securely. You bury your face against her neck, feeling vulnerable and exposed as you sit naked in her lap. Wanda had taken any weight you carried off your shoulders, you had never felt more relaxed or well-fucked in your life.

You feel her lips kiss your cheek, and you respond by peppering her neck and jaw with kisses back.

"You okay, darling?" Wanda asks, her voice soft. You could see a bright smile on her face as you look up at her and nod. "Use your words."

"Yes... never felt better." You sigh contently and smile back at her, leaning over to kiss her on the lips.

Wanda helps you off of her strap, your legs weak underneath you as you reach for your shirt as she tucks the strap back into her pants. She reaches out to grab your panties and jeans.

"I don't want you to clean yourself off until you get home. Understand?" She asks with a smirk as she pulls your pants over your wet and sticky thighs. "I want you to think about me for the rest of the night," Wanda whispers and buttons your jeans, pulling up the zipper. You stand uncomfortably but nod, the thought and feeling only making your stomach burn all over again.

You look at Wanda and take in the sight of the smirk on her red, swollen lips, her red hair cascading down to lay on her breasts that peak through her open blouse. Her hands move to button up the shirt, but the sight of her empty ring finger reminds you of a certain fact.

"Will I see you again?" You ask, not being able to hide the disappointment on your face. The smile that takes over her face is enough to relax the features on your own.

"We've got all summer," she chuckles, her hands cupping your cheeks as she kisses your forehead.

Someone older was definitely what you needed.

And having Wanda for the summer? You would do everything prove to her that age was just a number, and figure out just how 'complicated' her marriage was. Because when she walked out of the classroom with you next to her, she left the ring in the drawer of the desk she had just fucked you on.

[savannahsdeath]

hii i have a little ellie request. so can we maybe have an enemies to lovers where reader and ellie “hate each other” but in reality ellie just wants to be with reader and she ends up using the strap roughly bc reader didn’t wanna confess after years? (sorry this seems long😭)

i absolutely love this idea omg??

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

PART1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, 'enemies' to lovers, strap (r!receiving), mean!ellie kinda??, rough!ellie, reader is also mean at first !!

writers note: i love receiving requests like yall are so creative and idkk its just easier to write a req than my own idea🫣🫣 also this turned out to be longer than i expected (my longest fanfic yet!) but even the anon said it seems long so ig thats how its supposed to be🙏

It was another PE lesson you hate so much. It wouldn't be that bad, if not the fact that you're in the same team with Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams.

She would get mad at you for every little mistake you made. You absolutely hated her.

You had to admit she was... pretty. Especially when she had the mix of mad and stern expression on her face. Sometimes you provoked her just to watch her insult every little thing about you she could but you didn't mind. You just sat there with a smirk, sometimes making a mockingly worried face to piss her off even more. Sometimes. Sometimes you weren't in mood for that and you'd actually get offended. Sometimes even hurt. But you couldn't really blame her, that's how it works.

This day, you were literally rescuing your team. Every point was because of you. Every 'that was close' situation was only 'close' because of you. But your luck, or whatever made you win, had to run out eventually. You missed one time.

"What happened? Got holes in your hands? Tired? Not so good anymore?" Ellie asked you with that mocking tone.

Everyone ignored your interaction - they knew what's starting and they didn't want to get involved in that.

"I've done pretty much everything for this team, and the only thing you do is complain, Williams." You said and you could feel your temper rising.

Ellie didn't hesitate to respond to that.

"Well at least I don't do a half-ass job like you. You're really so full of yourself, aren't you? Why not just give up and let someone actually capable take over, huh?" She barked sarcastically.

The other team members didn't even try to hide their excitement now, they just sat back and enjoyed the show, even the teacher was having a hard time holding back the grin on his face whenever Ellie came up with a new insult.

And now, there was no going back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Williams, did your precious little ego get hurt from that? Are my skills threatening your so-called pride? Well if you don't like it, suck it up." You shot back.

If this kept up, you were going to end up with another detention for sure. Everyone knew that you two were like oil and water, but nobody really expected you to get into a shouting match over PE class. Especially, not this early in the morning.

The teacher finally decided that it was enough trouble, and he stepped between the two.

"Ladies, settle down! If you can't figure out how to work well together in a simple PE session, then you'll need more than one detention to figure it out. Go sit down." He ordered, and you two sat down, next to each other.

As if following a silent order, all the other students just went about their business and pretended like nothing had happened.

"You should learn how to shut up sometimes." You said quietly, nervously playing with your fingers.

"You should stop thinking you're so damn important." She snapped back, completely ignoring your advice as she stared at you with the same icy cold look as before.

The teacher came over to the two of you and handed you a form, which you quickly read over. "Maybe it's rough but that's what you both deserve after arguing in every single class. And if that won't help... I don't know what will. Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything, understood?."

In short, the file was saying you'll have spent a month after school doing little school works, like cleaning the gym, with her. It was a frequent way of dealing with problematic students in your school.

You weren't even surprised - the teacher was right. Your little bickers were the main gossip topic and there was no way they'll go unnoticed.

Still, you couldn't help but frown.

"You've got to be kidding me." You muttered under your breath. Spending a month after school doing odd jobs with Ellie was literally the last thing you wanted to do. You knew there was some sort of punishment coming, but this was extreme.

Ellie overheard your muttering, and she rolled her eyes. "It's just a bunch of cleaning, what's wrong, can't handle a little hard work?" She mocked.

"And why are you so happy? Maybe you wished to spend more time with me?" You chuckled, finally looking up at her.

Ellie seemed caught off guard, but she quickly recomposed herself. "Who said I was happy? Sure, I'll love to see you grovel and scrub floors while I sit back and relax." She replied in a sarcastic tone.

You decided to press your advantage, and give Ellie a dose of her own medicine. "Aww, is someone actually admitting that they like spending time with me? I'm so honored." You said with an overdramatized fake fluster.

Ellie didn't even let you finish your sentence before she cut in with her usual sarcastic tone. "Pfff, don't get so ahead of yourself there." She chided. Even then, you could hear some slight annoyance in her voice.

Ellie may have been a jerk, but there was something about her you couldn't help but like. You couldn't explain it, but you liked this banter between the two of you.

Oh, who were you trying to lie to? You liked her. You were just good at hiding it.

You were just about to open your mouth to respond to Ellie's last snarky remark, when you were cut off again.

"Enough."

You both turned to see the teacher staring at the two of you. He sounded more annoyed than before, and you decided it was better to stop your feud before you got in any more trouble.

"You two are already going to spend a month together doing odd jobs. The last thing we need is for you to add another week to that sentence." He warned.

You wanted to say something back, but you decided to shut up before the teacher had to make it worse. You and Ellie just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, before you rolled your eyes and got up from your seat.

After a few more classes, the time of  fulfilling your penalty came. You sat down at the gym benches, waiting for Ellie. You waited, and waited, but no one came.

Ellie was faster than you with getting up. She smirked and said; "Well it's not like you actually had anything worth saying anyway, so it's easier for you." With that parting jab, she walked out of the gym.

You expected something like that from her, so you stood up and a few minutes later you were standing in front of her room. You knocked to the door, patiently waiting for her to answer.

After a few moments, you heard footsteps, before the door finally opened. Ellie stood in front of you, her face as annoyed as ever.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, clearly not in the mood to be bothered right now.

"Uh, hello? We're supposed to be doing the clean-up, remember? You haven't forgotten, right?" You said, trying to stay as polite as you could.

She sighed and motioned for you to come in, clearly not ready to go just yet.

You slowly stepped into Ellie's room, your eyes taking in the decorations and mess. It was clear that this was Ellie's world, but you couldn't help but feel a slight curiosity towards her.

"So, why exactly weren't you at the gym?" You asked, finally breaking the tension. You didn't want her thinking you were here to start another argument.

"I had stuff to do." Was the terse response you were met with, nothing else.

"Yeah, of course." You rolled your eyes. "Your room could use some cleaning too."

Ellie smirked when your tone turned from polite to annoyed when she gave you her response, but you couldn't help but notice that she slightly recoiled when you mention how messy her room was. For someone with such a sharp tongue, she sure wasn't enjoying that same kind of treatment.

"Oh yeah? So maybe we should have you clean my room instead." She shot back.

"Actually, boarding school is still school, so that'd count too." You smirked, not so sarcastically anymore. You'd really rather stay in her room than running all over the building with a mop and dirty cloths.

Ellie raised one eyebrow at your reply, clearly not expecting you to just accept it without some kind of snarky remark or argument.

"Alright then." She replied simply, and she walked over to her bed and started to clear out the clutter. You couldn't really deny that her room was in a pretty messy state.

You explored the room, looking for something to start with.

Just then, near other scattered clothes, you saw feminine underwear. Clearly not hers.

"Um, Ellie..." You laughed. "Who's this?"

She walked up to you, not seeming surprised or embarrased at all. "I dunno. There's lots of girls visiting." She smirked.

You knew the smart thing to do would be just to drop the topic, but your curiosity got the best of you. Just who was Ellie Williams hanging out with?

"Really? And how many of them leave a pair of underwear in your room as a souvenir?" You asked, trying to keep a straight face, but you couldn't help but be amused by the situation.

Ellie just laughed, and you couldn't help but grin at her confidence in that moment.

"If you're asking if I'm dating someone," Ellie said, looking at you with an amused expression, "then no. I wouldn't call it dating."

You knew Ellie was always too stubborn and proud to just admit it normally, so you decided to push her just a little bit further.

"So it's not just a single person then? What's it? A new girl every day?" you asked with a smirk, knowing you'd hit a nerve there.

The slight flicker of annoyance on Ellie's face told you that you'd hit the mark.

"So what if it is? Are you jealous?" She teased in response, just adding fuel to the fire.

Now, she had the smirk on her face, and you just knew you'll regret what you started.

"Not really. Everyone knows you fuck every girl in the school anyways. Well, almost every." You suggestively pointed at yourself. "That's honestly sad. You should focus on one person, don't you think?"

Ellie took this as a challenge, she just couldn't resist it when you made yourself the exception.

"Oh, you think you're a special case? How cute." She snickered, and you couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased with that response after how much you two had been annoying each other for the past month.

"What do you think, should I consider dating you? It seems like you're interested, isn't that why you keep sticking around?" She asked, looking at you, knowing very well what kind of effect her words were gonna have on you.

"Me? Interested? You're the one finding excuses to talk to me every day, even if it's just another argument!" You shook your head and looked down, trying to hide that your smirk turns into a honest smile.

You felt Ellie's eyes studying your face as you tried to hide your genuine happiness, you tried to play it off, but you knew that it wasn't working in your favor. You couldn't even deny it, because it was true, you were interested in Ellie. Maybe not at first, but after spending time together, you grew to like her, her arrogance, her wit, the snarky smile on her face... and her eyes.

"Oh, so you do care!" She quickly cut in, sensing your weakness as your smile grew.

"Come on, don't tell me you've been enjoying this little game of ours, haven't you? Don't you look forward to it every day? Don't you love the adrenaline that kicks in when you're about to say something that's bound to start an argument?" She asked, taking a step closer to you and lowering her voice.

You could almost see the sparks fly as the two of you stared at each other, both feeling the tension in the air. You were almost tempted to take her up on the offer, but your pride got the best of you.

"You're just full of yourself, aren't you? Thinking everybody craves that attention." You said after taking a deep breath.

Ellie just smiled and walked straight to you, getting up close and personal.

"Well, I know you want it. So stop putting up a facade and admit it."

"I'm not like these sluts you fuck, Williams." You said, trying to keep your voice steady and calm.

Ellie just smirked in response. "You're right, you're not like them. You're better than them. And maybe you are a little special, considering how much you manage to piss me off everyday." She took a step back and looked you up and down. "I kinda like it." She said, and you couldn't help but feel your heart rate go up a little when she said that.

You just stared back at Ellie, not really sure what else to say in this situation. Both of your egos were too big to give the other one satisfaction, and neither would be making the first move.

She finally spoke up; "Your turn to be honest now. Admit you're into me."

She was awfully close to you now, daring you to say something.

"Don't push it, Ellie." You told her confidently, and even though you really wanted to say it, your pride was holding you back from admitting it.

Ellie just smirked and moved even closer to you, until her face was just an inch away from yours. "Say it." She whispered.

You felt your heart pounding faster as you just looked at her, not able to break her stare.

You shook your head. "No way."

She just chuckled at your response. "I knew you'd say that. And now, I'm gonna make you say it yourself."

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Ellie pulled you close, just enough to make your lips meet. You just stood there, completely stunned by how bold she was, but at the same time, the feeling of her lips against yours was so new and so good as well. You hadn't felt this type of rush before, and you didn't want it to end.

You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a gasp followed by a moan into the kiss, which made her even bolder.

"I'll show you how lucky those so-called by you sluts are." She whispered after pulling away from you, but not for long.

While Ellie's mouth aggresively covered yours, you felt her slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You were barely able to think now, as your adrenaline was pumping through your whole body. Your back hit the mattress, and Ellie continued to push you down as she climbed up onto the bed on top of you.

That's when it hit you.

You realized that your little feud with Ellie wasn't going to end after all, except this time you weren't fighting her.

Instead, you were just enjoying the moment with someone you could almost call a friend.

It felt like there was nothing else in the universe, just a rush of new sensations that you didn't want to end.

Ellie was the one in control now, as you felt her body pressing up against you, her lips pressing against yours, her hands moving around your body without hesitation. You weren't even thinking straight anymore, you just let her embrace you, letting her take control entirely.

You felt her break the kiss for a moment, just to whisper something in your ear. "Say it."

You knew what she wanted you to say, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Before you could answer, you felt her slowly undressing you. Her lips were tracing paths along your throat, not letting you let out a logical word from it - only little whimpers.

You felt every curve of her body as you felt her lips against your neck, every touch sending chills down your spine.

When you felt her hands move towards your pants, you felt your body respond in the only way you could.

You couldn't think of anything else but her embrace, her warm breath against your neck, and your body slowly being freed from clothing.

Ellie knew exactly how to push your buttons.

Before you could catch your breath, you were left shaking, as her hand slipped into your underwear, which was soon on the floor too. She was teasing your clit in almost painful slow way, watching you squirm.

"Speak up, babe." She whispered mockingly.

But you couldn't. Not because you didn't want, or because your ego didn't let you - you just couldn't. You even asked yourself 'What does this girl wants from me?' as you already forgotten her previous wish. You just weren't thinking straight.

"Come on, do this for me." She kept looking at you with overdramatic concern. You saw her fastening her belt and sliding of her jeans, revealing an obviously-way-too-big strap, which purple color didn't surprise you at all as you imagined it the same way in your dreams.

When you finally came back to your senses, you constructed a whole full sentence answer. But as soon as she saw you opening your mouth to speak up, she slid a few inches of her toy into your soaking cunt. Your planned reply quickly got replaced with another gasp.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She smirked, her hips started thrusting. She had some sympathy for you, so she didn't make it too painful, but she wasn't also so merciful.

You cried out, at first clenching your thighs from surprise, but she was too strong for you to actually succeed.

You leaned your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut causing a few of your pathetic tears soak into the sheets.

She held your hips, so she won't miss your sensitive spot, but her grip was so hard you swore you can already see the bruises creating right beneath her fingers.

"Honestly, I'm really happy it ended like that. You have no idea how often I'd imagine you instead of some random girl. But it's good to have you really there." She chuckled, not slowing down but not speeding up either.

Your eyes opened wide at this confession. Before today, the nicest thing she said to you was 'what's wrong?', even though it was in an obviously mocking way. And know it turns out she liked you for a long time. Just like you liked her.

"W...Wh- What?" You managed to stutter out, leaning on your elbows to look at her before your vision turned blurry again so you fell back on the pillow.

"You didn't know?" She laughed. "I mean, you were always oblivious, so I shouldn't be shocked but... I thought it was clear." She was speaking slower than usual as every single word coming from her mouth was synced with the moves of her hips. While saying this simple thing, she pushed her strap into you at least twenty times. And she wasn't taking her time, oh, no. She was fast and rough, like you're just a sex toy without feelings. Did you mind? Hmmm...

When you started getting used to the size of her cock and your mind wasn't completely blank anymore, you remembered one important thing your PE teacher said. 'Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything.' None of you were either at the gym or putting up flyers around school. They're going to think you ditched it. Even though you'd rather get into more trouble than end whatever you were doing now, you felt you need to tell Ellie, just in case.

"El-s..." You moaned out and quickly realised it won't be easy.

"What is it?" She asked, seeming honestly interested in what you got to say. "Ready to admit you're absolutely obsessed with me?"

You clenched your fists, squeezing the bed sheets between your fingers.

"Th- no... We should..." You couldn't help but cry out again.

As soon as she heard the two keywords - 'we should' (and she hated when someone was telling her what to do, so that pissed her off) - she understood what you're trying to say.

"Behave? Fulfill our duties? Or...?" She chuckled.

You wanted to speak up, just to not feel so vulnerable as you really were. You only managed to mumble 'we' before one of her hands started rubbing your clit, just like at the start - painfully slow. The feeling made your thighs tense and move closer to each other, wanting to close the gap between them. But Ellie didn't let that happen as she quickly separated your legs.

Her hips also didn't stop moving, and all the sensations connected made you go silent again. Well, not silent - unable to speak. And that were two completely different things.

"I'd take that as a 'we should continue what we're doing right now'. Isn't that what you want?" Even though you're eyes were closed, you could feel her intense stare on you. Then, her mocking tone came back. "What is it with you being so quiet all of sudden? You spent a few of the past years yelling at me, and you can't even say a word now?"

"I ju-st..." You said but then she hit your g spot again, and again, and again... making you go silent.

Your stomach started feeling funny - probably because of how deep in it Ellie's strap was. At this point, you thought you can even feel it in your throat and that's what's blocking your words from coming out. But the funny feeling had a different origin - your release was getting awfully close, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"We're going to have lots of fun this month." She whispered, leaning in to stroke your cheek.

[kiarastromboli]

Teach me (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part.2 Part.3

Masterlist.

Warning: Virgin reader, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: Chris shows up in the middle of the night in your room, asking for answers to the exam you both are supposed to take in the following days, and things take an unexpected turn.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

We are on a summer Tuesday evening, the air warm and heavy, the sound of cicadas outside, and the gentle breeze causing tree branches to brush against my window sill, absolute calm. The house was silent; it was already 11:25 PM, the only reason I wasn't asleep? I was busy revising for the upcoming major exam. Honestly, I didn't need to; I had the knowledge and even more, but I'm a perfectionist. Why settle for the minimum when you can achieve much more?

Anyway, I allowed myself to study a bit more tonight since I have no classes tomorrow. I had some music playing in the background, loud enough for me to hear but not too loud to distract me. Tonight, nothing could distract me!

*knock knock knock*

I jumped in surprise when I heard faint noises coming from the window at the other end of my room. I thought I was impossible to distract, but apparently, I was wrong.

I walked slowly towards the window; it was probably my cat scratching to come in. Well, I wasn't sure; what else could it be?

I pulled the curtain covering my window to open it and came face to face with Chris Sturniolo.

WAIT, WHAT? What is that rascal Chris doing at my window? Oh my god, if my parents hear him, I'm done for.

Let me give you a brief recap to better understand the situation and the reason for my current anxiety.

My name is Y/n, and honestly, there's not much to say about me. I'm a quiet girl, the complete opposite of what one would consider "cool" and "popular." I'm disciplined, polite, courteous, studious, discreet – in short, the perfect little girl who will have a good diploma, an excellent job in an excellent city, and an excellent family. I do what is expected of me without questioning, and I never, I repeat, NEVER go against the rules.

Chris, on the other hand, is Chris. If I were a boy, I would be absolutely the opposite of that guy. He plays on the high school lacrosse team with his brother. He's a real jerk – sorry, I don't want to sound vulgar, but he's a real jerk. He spends his time skipping classes to do who knows what with who knows who. He thinks he's "cool" and "popular" because all the girls run after him, but the truth is, he's just a good-looking guy with a devilish behavior. Back in elementary school, I had a crush on him; when he found out, he mocked me, and he never stopped, even now in high school. So, yes, he's an immature jerk.

What could Chris possibly be doing at my window in the middle of the night when my parents are at home? My father has always been strict about no boys in my room, and certainly not in the middle of the night?

"Are you going to let me in?" he said, looking up at me.

"Absolutely not! How do you know where I live? You can't stay here; you have to leave now!" I shouted in a panic, looking around to make sure no one saw him here.

"Let me in, and I'll answer all your little questions," he said with a smirk.

"Oh my god," I whispered to myself, bringing my hand to my forehead. "No, Chris, you don't understand; my parents are here. If they know there's a boy at my window—"

"Okay, if you don't let me in, I'll knock on the front door, pretending to be your boyfriend. It's up to you," he said, cutting me off before moving away from my window.

"NO! Okay, fine, come in," I sighed. "Damn, damn, damn," I muttered to myself as I moved away from the window to lock the door to my room.

"Your room is cool," he said, dropping onto my bed as if it were his own. "What's his name?" he added, picking up a stuffed animal lying on my bed.

"Get your filthy body off my clean bed, please," I snapped, grabbing my stuffed animal from his hands with a brisk motion.

"Relax; I just wanted to chat," he said, rolling his eyes before getting up to move towards me. "Nice pajamas," he said with a smirk, scanning my body with his eyes.

I blushed uncontrollably; I was wearing really short shorts and an equally short tank top. What? It's fine; I know what you're thinking. I'll stop you right there; it's summer, it's super hot, and I didn't anticipate Mr. Troublemaker's surprise visit.

"What do you want?" I asked timidly, stuttering and crossing my arms to hide my stomach. I hated having my body exposed in front of others; it made me feel vulnerable.

"I need your help for the exam coming up next week," he said, moving towards my desk. "And before you refuse to help me, I have an offer you can't refuse!" he said, turning to me, leaning against my desk this time.

"And did you have to come and ask for my help in the middle of the night, Chris, seriously?" I replied, annoyed.

"I stole the test papers from the teachers' lounge. If you help me, you can memorize all the answers by heart," he said, crossing his arms with a smug smile.

I laughed when he presented his "impossible to refuse" offer. What an idiot. "If you think that I, Y/n, will help you cheat on the most important exam of the year, you're way dumber than I thought."

"Oh yeah? You seemed pretty bothered by the bad grade you got in gym yesterday," he said, advancing towards me. "You know, I know the coach really well, well enough to be able to change your grade."

Damn, it was the only grade below average I had all year. It's true that it would be convenient to make it disappear. What? No, Y/n, you're crazy; this is Chris we're talking about, he's a manipulator, and you're falling into his trap. Oh my god, stop; I need to get him out of here.

"Why do you want me to help you? Find the answers yourself," I replied, giving him a dark look.

"Because I don't feel like it, and you love this kind of thing," he said, rolling his eyes. "Y/n, it's beneficial for both of us. Look, you ensure you get 100% on the exam, in addition to seeing your gym grade increase, and it will save me from repeating this year."

"Get out of my room, Chris; I'm not going to help you cheat. It's bad," I said, crossing my arms.

"Bad? Who do you think you are? Come on, we don't care; it's just an exam!" he said, laughing.

"You don't care, but I do," I said, pointing to the window he came in through.

He smiled arrogantly before licking his lips, looking at me. "You're more tenacious than I thought," he said, plunging his eyes into mine. "I like that."

I won't lie; his words made me a little nervous at the moment. Okay, I said he was a big jerk,

not that he was ugly!

"Oh, are you blushing because of me? Does what I say affect you?" he said, slowly approaching me.

"G-Get out of my room," I said weakly, stepping back.

"Why? You don't want me to leave your room, Y/n. Don't lie to me; I know you like me," he said confidently, continuing to advance towards me until my back hit the door of my room.

I swallowed hard as I felt my throat tighten due to the proximity between us. "You're insane. I would have to be crazy to like a guy like you," I said timidly, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sure I can drive you crazy," he said, grabbing my chin to force me to look him in the eyes.

A wave of heat engulfed me; I slightly opened my mouth to get more air. My heartbeat accelerated; I must be all red now.

"Listen," he said, getting even closer to me. "If you help me with this exam," he said, placing his hand in the small of my back, "in addition to the things I've already offered you," he said, slowly lowering his hand to my hip, "I can also show you a few things you might like," he said softly, plunging his eyes into mine.

I cleared my throat. "What are you talking about?" I said all timid.

"Oh, come on, Y/n, you know exactly what I'm talking about; you're dying for it. Look at yourself," he said with an arrogant smile. "And if you want to know, I'm dying for it too," he whispered in my ear, making my knees weak.

"Stop lying, you don't give a damn about me. You're acting like an asshole with me; you only want the answers to this exam," I said, stuttering and trying not to be swayed by his sweet words.

"Y/n, I know where you live because I follow you after school every day to make sure nothing happens to you on the way," he said, moving his face a few centimeters away from mine. "I spend my time teasing you in the hope of getting closer to you," he added, running his hand over my cheek. "If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have even noticed the bad grades you're getting in PE," he said, rolling his eyes.

If these were lies, then he's a very good liar. Oh my god, my mother always warned me about bad boys like Chris, but I felt like fainting when his hand tightened a little more around my hip. "Chris—"

"You know what, screw this exam; I'll study it on my own. Let me kiss you, and I promise to leave your room and never bother you about this exam again," he said, almost sounding desperate. Wait, is he serious? Chris has a crush on me? I must be dreaming; it can't be possible.

"Chris, if this is a joke, it's really not funny," I said uncertainly, furrowing my brow when he moved his face closer to mine.

"I'm dead serious," he said, fixing his gaze on my lips.

My eyes were switching between his and his lips; I didn't know what to do. I was bewildered by the situation until Chris placed his soft lips on mine. My eyes instinctively closed to better savor the moment. I was kissing the most handsome guy in high school in my room, just like in the movies. His hand slid under my shorts to grab my buttock, making me sigh in surprise during our kiss. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, dancing with mine. He started smiling against my lips when he heard a pathetic moan die in our kiss as he began to knead my buttocks.

"Chris," I said, separating our lips and pushing him by his chest.

"What?" he said with a confused look as I moved away from him.

"We're not going to do this," I told him, shaking my head. "My parents are here; you can't just barge into my room in the middle of the night and coerce me with sex to get the answers to this damn exam," I said, offended.

"Y/n, I don't care about the exam. I did all this to get closer to you!" he said, taking a step towards me.

I stepped back when he tried to grab my hand to hold it in his. "Okay, prove it," I said, crossing my arms. "You said you would leave me alone about this exam and leave my room if I let you kiss me," I added, heading to the window to open it again.

He opened his mouth to speak before changing his mind, shaking his head.

"Show me you're not a liar," I said, pointing to the window.

He sighed before moving towards the window. "I'm not a liar, Y/n," he said, furrowing his brow before starting to pass his legs through the window.

There, I was finally rid of him. I should feel relieved, right? So why does something deep inside me break seeing him leave?

Without thinking, before he had time to pass through my window entirely, I grabbed him by his T-shirt to kiss him again. I couldn't let him go like that. I don't know what was happening to me, but everything was screaming at me to throw myself on his lips and never leave them.

He straightened up before closing the window with one hand. His other hand came to caress my cheek.

I had absolutely no idea what I was doing; we headed towards my desk without paying attention. He grabbed the back of my thighs to make me sit on my desk just behind me. His lips left mine to move towards my neck, his arms tightened around my waist, and my thighs surrounded his.

"Do you still want me to leave your room now?" he said arrogantly.

"Shut up," I said, feeling my breath quicken when he started sucking on the skin of my neck between his lips. "Chris, you can't leave marks," I said, a little panicked.

"Why not? You're mine," he said authoritatively, raising his face in front of mine and grabbing my throat in his hand.

"First, I'm not yours, Chris, and second, my father will kill me if he sees hickies on my neck," I said, chuckling timidly at his reaction.

Without a word, he began kissing my neck again before slowly moving towards my chest, making me anxious. "What are you doing?" I asked, stuttering.

"I'm leaving my mark where I'm sure no one else will see it," he whispered before grabbing the fabric of my tank top to slightly uncover my breast and place his lips on it.

"Chris—" I said, jumping when he started sucking a hickey on that sensitive area.

I could feel shivers running through my entire body; my back arched, and my thighs instinctively tightened around his waist while a few silent moans escaped my lips.

"Are you always this sensitive, or am I the one making you feel this way?" he said, raising his head towards me with a big smile.

I started blushing uncontrollably when he said that; I didn't even have a response to his question. I had never done anything like this with a boy before.

"Did you lose your tongue?" he asked, tilting his head to the side before coming to fix a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I-I don't know," I said in an almost inaudible voice. "Is it wrong?" I asked, embarrassed.

"No, not at all," he said, frowning. "What do you mean by 'I don't know'?" he asked, confused.

"I—" I didn't know what to answer. A silence settled at that moment; he looked me in the eyes before realizing.

"You've never done anything with a boy?" he asked, surprised.

I simply shook my head from side to side, too embarrassed to say anything.

His arrogant smile covered his lips a few seconds later. "Do you want me to teach you?"

My eyes widened when I heard that. I hesitated for a moment before nodding timidly.

"Use words, princess," he said, stroking my waist to encourage me to speak.

"I want you to teach me how to do it," I said, feeling a wave of confidence in myself.

He smiled before kissing me again; this time our kiss was slow and gentle, as if to reassure me. His hands played with the hem of my tank top. "Can I take this off?" he asked calmly.

"Take yours off first," I asked directly. I didn't want to be the only one exposed for some reason. My statement made him chuckle, and he separated from my lips to remove his t-shirt.

I took a moment to observe him. Unconsciously, I started biting my lips, and Chris smiled at my reaction. "It's your turn now," he said, moving towards me again.

Once again, I hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, you know," he said without breaking eye contact.

His words were enough to make me feel comfortable. I took my tank top off over my head without overthinking it. "But I want to," I said before covering my chest, feeling a wave of embarrassment engulf me.

Chris immediately grabbed my arms. "You don't need to hide from me, Y/n," I let him remove my arms from the way, and he directed his eyes to my chest, licking his lips. "You're beautiful," he said before pressing his lips against mine once again.

I felt more and more at ease with him. My hands, which were previously at the back of his neck, started to travel along his chest down to his waist, where he hastily seized my wrist. "Slow down, princess."

"What? Did I do it wrong? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" I asked, panicking. He chuckled at my reaction.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he said, smiling. "We have all the time in the world, don't rush yourself," he whispered before kissing my neck again.

My hand found its place in his hair, and he gradually directed his kisses towards my chest, prompting me to throw my head back at the new sensation of his lips around my nipples.

One of his hands slipped between my thighs, making me jump and tilt my head forward at the proximity of his hand to my sensitive area.

He began to gently caress my pussy through my clothes, causing a silent moan to escape my lips.

I could feel my head starting to spin due to all this sudden stimulation; I couldn't help but squirm in all directions. "Can I take off your shorts?" he asked, looking up at me.

"Y-yes," I replied timidly before he slowly removed my shorts and resumed kissing me, this time moving down to my stomach, making me breathe harder.

He stopped kissing me when he reached the level of my white panties to examine them closely. "You're so wet that I can see the trace on your panties," he said with a smirk.

Embarrassment washed over me. "I'm sorry," I said softly, trying to close my thighs, but he grabbed them to force me to keep them open.

"Don't be," he said, bringing his head closer to my thighs. "I like it," he said, planting a kiss on my clothed pussy, making me shiver. "You're so sensitive; I bet I could make you come in less than 5 minutes with my tongue," he said, running his fingers between the fabric of my panties and my skin.

"Do you want me to do it?" he asked, looking up at me with a sly smile. I timidly nodded. "Say it," he said in a firm tone.

"What?" I asked, a bit embarrassed.

"If you want me to do it, you'll have to ask me, Y/n," he said arrogantly.

"Chris," I said in a frustrated moan; I could see his smile widening, amused by the situation. He returned to plant another kiss on my still-clothed pussy. "I-I want you to make me come with your tongue," I said, almost inaudibly moaning.

"Anything you want, princess," he said satisfied before removing my panties. I lifted my hips to help him, and he placed a few kisses around my sensitive area before putting my legs over his shoulders and diving his head between my legs.

The upper part of my body leaned forward slightly at the sensation of his lips around my clit. Instinctively, my hand pressed into his long, wavy hair, and I couldn't control the soft moans that escaped me. "Y/n, quiet down; your parents will hear you," he said, chuckling against me before getting back to work.

His tongue applied pressure to my clit, driving me wild. One of his hands reached for my breasts to play with them, mainly to prevent me from squirming all over my desk, which kept creaking. He moved his tongue in circular motions, gradually increasing the speed. After a few seconds, I felt something new in my lower abdomen, as if it were knotting due to the pressure. My thighs started to tighten slightly around his face without me realizing it. When I lowered my eyes to look at him, I could see his beautiful blue eyes already fixed on me, admiring me as if I were his last meal.

My eyebrows furrowed when all this stimulation started to take over. "Chris," I struggled to say in a weak voice; it felt like I was about to faint. "Oh my—fucking god," I said, throwing my head back and covering my mouth with my hand.

Chris didn't stop; on the contrary, he accelerated his movements, and his grip on my breasts became much firmer. He started moaning between my legs, and the vibrations of his moans against my clit were enough to push me over the edge. My legs began to tremble. "Fuck—Chris," I said before reaching orgasm on his face.

He slowed down the movement of his tongue before completely stopping to let me ride out my orgasm. "I told you," he said, straightening up and using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, "less than 5 minutes."

I chuckled at his remark, "You never stop boasting, huh?" I said with a smile, and his hands came around my cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Never," he said, smiling before I reconnected our lips, making him smile at my hungry kiss. "What do you want?" he asked, separating our lips.

"I want to pleasure you too," I replied, playing with his necklace. He licked his lips, looking into my eyes.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, pressing his pelvis against mine to make me feel his erection through his pants, and I nodded.

"Yes, that's what I want," I said with an innocent look.

He immediately reconnected our lips without waiting a second longer, then grabbed the back of my thighs to carry me to my bed.

He gently placed me at the edge of the bed before leaning forward to kiss me again. "If you want us to stop, let me know," I brought my hands to his belt to remove it while he looked at me with desire.

I lowered his pants and stared at his erect member. Suddenly, panic resurfaced. "You don't have to do this," he said, bringing his hand to my cheek.

I looked up to meet his reassuring gaze. "I don't know how to do it," I said timidly, "but I want to." I added, placing my hand on his thigh.

"Do what feels right, I'll guide you," he said, never taking his eyes off me, as I slid down his boxers to his ankles.

The apprehension and stress were still there, but it was too late; after all, I was already committed. I really wanted it; I was just terribly afraid of messing up. I stopped overthinking and took his member in my hand, giving him a look to make sure I wasn't doing anything wrong. He nodded to indicate I should continue. I began hesitant strokes with my hand, eliciting a moan from his mouth.

His hand came to caress the top of my head, and I threw him a last uncertain glance before taking him into my mouth. He flinched and took a step back when I started, and I immediately looked up at him in panic. "Sorry," I apologized embarrassedly.

"No, don't be. It's okay; you just need to avoid letting your teeth touch it. It's not very pleasant," he explained in a reassuring voice before coming back towards me.

I nodded, and this time, I made sure my teeth didn't touch him. His hand returned to my hair. "Yeah, like that," he moaned, making my pussy clench at the tone of his voice. I continued my movements with closed eyes. "You can use your hand for what you can't fit in your mouth," he said weakly, and I did as he instructed. I could feel how much he was holding back from thrusting into my mouth to avoid rushing me, and the muffled sounds from his mouth sent an electric shock to my pussy.

"Fuck, you need to stop," he said, throwing his head back. I pulled away and looked up at him, confused.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, feeling lost.

"No, baby, you did a great job. It's just that I was about to come," he said, caressing my cheek and catching his breath.

"Oh," I said, chuckling. "Maybe you can come inside me?" I said without thinking, excited by the moment; I wanted more.

"Y/n," he said, diving his eyes into mine before I got up, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him again. "Is this really what you want?" he asked before reconnecting our lips.

"Please," I said pathetically, guided by my desires and excitement at that moment. My hands tangled in his hair, and his hands firmly gripped my hips.

"I don't have a condom, princess," he emphasized, smiling against my lips.

"I have..." I said timidly before heading to my bedside table to take out a new box of condoms.

A sly smile appeared, and I could already feel his remarks coming. So, before he had a chance to say anything, I cut him off, "I'm a virgin, not irresponsible, Chris," I said, rolling my eyes when I stood in front of him.

"I didn't say anything," he said, chuckling, before pushing me onto the bed and positioning himself above me to kiss me again. "Are you sure this is really what you want, Y/n?" he asked, directing his lips to my neck. "I don't want you to feel forced into anything. What we've done already is more than enough for now," he added.

"Jeez, Chris, stop talking," I said, chuckling, before grabbing his head between my hands to kiss him even more passionately than before.

"Are you that impatient?" he said, chuckling. "I need to stretch you a bit first, okay?" he said, directing his fingers towards my entrance. I simply nodded, and he pushed the first finger inside, prompting me to raise my head at the sensation. "Is it okay?"

"Yes, you can add another finger," I said, feeling my breath quicken. He inserted a second finger and began to move them in and out to stretch me.

"I wish your parents weren't here so I could hear you better, Y/n. You make beautiful sounds," he said, burying his head in my neck and curling his fingers inside me to stretch me further.

"Chris," I said, moaning and pulling slightly on his hair, "I need more."

"Do you think you're ready?" he asked, looking into my eyes. He had never looked at me like that before; his gaze was tender and caring.

"Yes," I replied, nodding. He grabbed a condom and opened it with his mouth. I could feel the pressure building, but I wasn't going to back down. I was going to do it; I was ready to do it.

He put on the condom and positioned himself at my entrance. "Tell me if you want me to stop, and I'll do it immediately," he said, and I nodded. "It might hurt a bit at the beginning if it's too much for you—"

"Chris, just do it," I said, cutting him off when I felt the stress overwhelm me.

He began to push slowly inside me, scrutinizing any sign of discomfort on my face. My eyebrows furrowed at the burning sensation when he started penetrating me. "Fuck," I said, glancing down to see what was happening between my legs before letting my head fall back on the pillow. He stopped halfway to make sure it wasn't too much for me. "Don't stop," I said, breathing quickly, and he resumed his advance until he touched the depth, prompting me to bury my head in his neck to muffle a moan.

"Are you okay?" he asked without moving from where he was.

"Yes, you can move," I said before he began to make slow thrusts. At first, it burned a little; it was uncomfortable, but with each subsequent movement, the pain transformed into pleasure.

"Oh my god, you're so tight, Y/n, fuckkk," he said, moaning against my lips. His thrusts gradually accelerated, and my hand gripped his bicep.

"It-feels good," I admitted, moaning softly and clenching my jaw.

"I've dreamt of this for so long; it's even better than in my dreams," he said, gripping onto my hips.

"You dreamed of this?" I asked him, confused, not knowing if he was being honest with what he was saying.

"Mhm," he simply hummed before lowering his free hand between our bodies to massage my clit. "You're mine now," he said in my ear, and my grip around his bicep tightened with the stimulation he was providing at that moment. His hip movements accelerated again, knotting my lower abdomen for the second time tonight. "Say it," he added in an authoritative tone.

"I'm yours, Chris," I said with the little strength I had left. My mind didn't know where to focus at that moment.

"Yes, and this pussy is mine too, Y/n," he said, moaning in my ear, driving me crazy. "I want you to cum again for me, princess," he said, accelerating his thrusts, yet still gentle and delicate.

My eyes rolled back, and my legs tightened around him. "Let go, princess," he said breathlessly. "Cum all over me." With his words, I threw my head back and started clenching around him. "Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me, baby," he said, burying his head in my neck, and I started to climax. I grabbed his hand, placing it over my mouth to muffle any noise, and shortly after, he climaxed too.

"Oh my god," I said before he let all his weight fall on me, moaning one last time.

"I never want to move from here," he said, smiling against my neck.

"You'll have to before my parents wake up," I said, chuckling. "It's already a miracle they didn't hear us," I said, running my hand through his hair.

He sat up and withdrew from me before tossing the condom into my trash bin. I sat up, covering myself with my blanket. "Will this happen again?" I asked him timidly, looking at him as he put on his boxers.

"Of course, it will, princess," he said, smiling, before sitting next to me and rubbing my thigh. "Can I stay a little longer?" he asked, locking his eyes with mine, and I nodded.

He settled next to me, pulling me close and gently running his hand over my curves. "Send me the exam tomorrow; I don't have class. I'll give you the answers," I told him, looking up at him.

"I thought this was bad, and good girls like you don't do these kinds of things," he said, chuckling and furrowing his brows.

"Good girls like me aren't supposed to sleep with bad boys like you," I replied, straddling him to be on top, and he sat up to kiss me.

"I told you I'd drive you crazy," he said, smiling against my lips.

Masterlist.

[onlymingyus]

Guilty

pairing; kwon soonyoung x f reader / lee jihoon x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, toxic, fluff

summary; you and soonyoung learn that the storm can only be weathered for so long before you need a lift raft to hold on to. but what happens when neither of you reach for each other in that storm?

warnings; cheating, toxic relationship dynamics, car accident, injuries, hospital, arguing, eating/drinking, pet names, crying (from pleasure and sadness), unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving/giving), fingering, marking/biting, impact, dom!jihoon, dirty talk, less than ideal sexual experiences, i mean...there is just a lot -- i probably missed something.

w/c; 23.6k 

a/n; thank you so so much to my @onlyhuis for proofreading and being my rock while i wrote this bitch. this one was out of my comfort zone but i really wanted to try to dive into angst and something a bit more toxic with my plot. i hope you enjoy it.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

3 missed calls from Soonyoung❣️

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you sigh at the notification on your lock screen, thinking about the number of times you had tried to call him the day before only to get his voicemail. You think about the number of text messages that you have sent as you unlock your screen, looking at the four messages waiting for you. 

When Soonyoung told you about his job opportunity, you were excited for him. Dancing was his life and his biggest passion, with teaching coming in as a close second. The main drawback of the job offer was that he would be gone for a year and be in another country. 

Promises had been made to one another in an attempt to make the distance easier. You both promised to visit when you could and to keep in touch every single day. Things were easier said than done, it would seem. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I got in late. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I know you are going to be mad at me. 

Soonyoung ❣️: Call me when you wake up

Soonyoung ❣️: Love you 

You sigh, laying your phone down next to you after reading over the messages. Lately, they were all starting to look the same. There was always a “I got in late” message waiting for you and a “call me when you wake up" message waiting for you after a day of trying to keep in touch on your part. You knew he was working hard, but so were you. 

Sliding out of bed, your phone in tow, you leave it on the counter as you turn on the shower, letting the bathroom fill up with steam. It wasn’t like Soonyoung would know the exact moment you woke up anyway. He barely remembered the local time anymore, much less your schedule. He had made you wait. Now he could wait. 

Soonyoung knew he should be asleep. He had to wake up early to get to the studio but he was staring at his phone and hoping you would call him. He had checked the time back home at least five times and it was a Tuesday, which meant you had to get ready for work soon. 

Sighing loudly, Soonyoung scrolls back through the text messages that he had missed from you throughout the day. He hadn’t meant to ignore you; he never did. Time wasn’t his greatest ally lately and long days had turned into even longer nights. 

Y/N 😘: Hope you are having a good day babe 

Y/N 😘: Missing you 

Y/N 😘: Hope class has gone well. You are amazing ❣️

Y/N 😘: I’m going to bed 

Y/N 😘: Hope I get to talk to you tomorrow. I love you 

Kicking his legs out from under the covers, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the headboard. He groans under his breath as he gives in to his impatience, pressing down on your name and placing the phone up to his ear to listen to it ring. One ring, two rings, a third, and then your sweet voice tells him that you can’t come to the phone. Were you ignoring him? 

The sound of your ringtone makes you furrow your brows, your eyes closed, as water runs down your face towards your lips. You were almost done with your shower but you were almost certain you weren’t hearing things, especially when your phone rings for a second time. Wiping the water from your face, you rush to get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you, just as the second call from Soonyoung goes unanswered. 

He had begun to turn over, a scowl on his face, when his phone lit up with a picture of your face. Staring at his phone for a few seconds, Soonyoung presses his tongue against his cheek before finally answering. 

“Hello?”

You could hear the disappointment in Soonyoung’s voice and for a split second, you felt a pang of guilt. You forget about the number of calls that went unanswered the day before as you lean against the counter with a frown on your face. 

“Hey, sorry, I was in the shower.” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung also seems to forget how bad he felt about missing your calls and not responding to your text until late. Instead, he just thinks about himself and what he is feeling at the moment: frustration. 

“Yeah, well, I asked for you to call me when you woke up, but I guess you didn’t check your phone.”  

Looking down as water drips onto the tile, you feel Soonyoung’s words eat at your heart until you remember waking up and seeing your own messages from the day before. You remember listening to his voicemail time and time again, as you hoped he would pick up the phone even for a moment to say something to you. 

“I did check it.” 

Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung is taken aback by your sudden shift in attitude towards him. He had expected an apology and maybe your sweet, comforting voice to lull him to sleep but clearly that wasn’t happening. 

“Oh? So you chose to ignore my messages and calls?” 

“Like you chose to ignore mine, Soonyoung? Seriously…” 

Your voice trails off as tears begin to well up in your eyes. There had been too many days recently that had started much like this one. You wanted to talk to your boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, how much you loved him, and how proud of him you were that he was living his dream, but instead the two of you ended up in an argument. 

Swallowing hard, Soonyoung closes his eyes as he sits up in his bed, running his fingers through his hair and listening to the sounds of your breath through the phone. He could tell you were crying. He had heard it enough times over the phone at this point to know exactly what it sounded like. 

Now he was remembering seeing his phone light up throughout the day and checking it to see another missed call or text message from you. He remembered promising himself to call you back on the next break, only to get into a conversation with someone and lose track of time. 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung hears a soft sob over the phone as he looks out of his window at the dark skyline of the city, knowing the sun was still rising where you were. He would give anything to be there with you now, to be able to hold you and to make this better but instead he was on the other side of the world and it felt like he might as well be on another planet. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I–look, I don’t know what is wrong with me. It was a long day and when you didn’t answer my brain, just–” Shaking his head, Soonyoung stops to take a breath, deciding to stop giving you excuses. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much.” 

This was the part when you would normally fold and tell him how much you loved him and forgive him. You always forgave Soonyoung because he was working so hard and you knew it was important but you were starting to feel like you were less important. Wiping your cheek with your free hand, you shake your head and bite at your bottom lip as Soonyoung whines your name when you don’t speak to him right away. 

“I have to get ready for work. I love you too. I hope you get some sleep.” 

Closing his eyes, Soonyoung lets out a breath, feeling his heart sink at your words. You hadn’t accepted his apology and you hadn’t wanted to hear his excuses. You just wanted off the phone, and at this point, he couldn’t blame you. 

“I–yeah, sure. Have a good day, babe.” 

The sound of the call ending before you even say goodbye is what stuns Soonyoung the most. Dropping the phone into his lap, he stares at it for a moment, your picture looking at him from his lockscreen before the display goes dark. 

Jihoon: Pizza?

You hadn’t been home long when the sound of a text message drew your attention to your phone. In truth, you had been avoiding your phone for most of the afternoon, knowing that Soonyoung was awake and at work. He had already been trying to make up for the day before by overcompensating and there was only so much that you could handle. 

Seeing the text message from his best friend, however, was a welcomed change. You knew there was a reason behind it. When you hadn’t answered him, Soonyoung had probably called Jihoon and begged him to check in on you, like he had started to do more often, but you didn’t mind it. 

Y/N: Only if you bring ice cream too. 

Jihoon smirks a bit to himself after seeing your response. He knew you would agree to dinner and he had a good idea that you’d want ice cream after the conversation he had had with Soonyoung about an hour prior. He knew that you two had gotten into an argument. That had started to become a routine and now this was becoming his; dinner and a dessert for you. 

You had always gotten along with your boyfriend’s best friend but since Soonyoung had taken the job and been gone for so long, Jihoon had become a rock in your life. You had become increasingly grateful to him, even if it was Soonyoung’s idea that he kept showing up with food and to be a shoulder to cry on. 

Offering you a half smile, Jihoon lifts the bag with the ice cream with one hand as he holds the pizza box with the other when you open the door. Your smile causes him to take a breath and for his smile to become a full one when you take the bag from him, ushering him inside. 

While Jihoon was happy to do this for you and Soonyoung, there was a part of him that found this more difficult every time. He was starting to love seeing that look on your face when you saw him—the way he could make your face light back up. 

“Come in. Sorry…the place is a wreck and I already changed into my pajamas. I literally can’t find a fuck to give today.” 

Moving into your place with you, Jihoon’s eyes move over your back and down your legs, just under your shorts, before he pulls them away out of respect with a sharp breath. Shaking his head, he looks around with a shrug before setting down the pizza on the coffee table as you move into the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer. 

“Your place looks lived in, Y/N, and you look fine. Making me wish I was in my pajamas, or that I looked half as good in mine.” 

Closing the door to your freezer, you pause at Jihoon’s compliment, feeling your cheeks starting to heat up. You didn’t mind it—the feeling of someone telling you that you looked good. It had been so long since Soonyoung had been home that you forgot what it was like to have someone compliment you like that, even if it was something so innocent. 

Jihoon curses himself under his breath, sitting down on your couch, at his forwardness. He never wanted to really cross a line. He knew who you were and he knew who he was; just lately, it was getting harder to really remember it. 

“Thanks, Jihoon, I’m sure you look very cute in your pajamas. Ya know, for the record.” 

You smile at Jihoon and he has to look down at his hands as he chuckles, trying to play off your words as if they don’t have any effect on him. He knew you weren’t actually flirting with him; that was a ridiculous passing thought in his mind, but god, sometimes he wished you weren’t Soonyoung’s. The moment the thought even comes to him, Jihoon clenches his fists and then stretches out his fingers to distract himself from it. 

“Mm, how was your day?” Swallowing hard, Jihoon glances up at you as he opens the top of the pizza box, gesturing towards it as you move around to sit next to him, closer than you had on other nights. “Eat. Don't let it get cold.” 

Taking a slice of the pizza, you pout at it before taking a small bite, letting the warmth of food and good company wash over you. You had heard Jihoon’s question, but it was a loaded one. Sighing, you furrow your brows as Jihoon swallows his own bite of pizza, glancing over at you with a concerned look on his face. 

“It was a bad one, Jihoon. I know that wasn’t really your question, but I’m not stupid. I know he called you and asked you to come over.” 

You shake your head and put your pizza back into the box. Jihoon frowns and does the same, watching pensively as you wipe your fingers on the end of your nightshirt, unwilling to put effort into getting up to get a napkin.

“I–well yeah, he did, but I wanted to bring you some dinner. We could talk about it, you know if you want to.” 

Jihoon watches as you furrow your brows and lean back on the couch, pulling your legs up under you. It hadn’t been his intention to upset you or bring up the argument; he had wanted to help distract you, but maybe you did need to get through this before you could move on with your night. 

Glancing at your phone as it lights up again with another text message from Soonyoung, you shrug hearing Jihoon’s phone go off a moment later. 

“It’s just really funny to me that he can ignore me all day and then act like I am supposed to be at his beck and call.” You swallow back your tears as you look down at your hands, pushing the ring on your index finger around so that the stone is facing your palm. “I love him, Jihoon, but right now I can’t stand him. I feel like I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t know the person I talked to this morning.” 

Jihoon fights the urge to look at his phone, feeling it go off again in his jacket pocket. Instead,  he listens to you intently as he sees the tears rising in your eyes. His eyes fall to the ring on your finger and he remembers helping Soonyoung pick it out before he left for Tokyo and how he had suggested the cut of the stone. 

Swallowing hard, Jihoon shifts on the couch to face you. He keeps his hands to himself, trying to be as respectful as possible, although all he wants to do is offer you more comfort when he sees the first tear trail down your cheek. 

“Look, I could go the best friend route and give you the excuses but I’m not going to do it. I know he’s busy but I’m also not there.” Meeting your eyes, Jihoon tightens his hand on his knee, listening to you sniffle back your tears as he tilts his head. “I know he cares about you, he told me today. If I could make this better, Y/N, I would.” 

Those weren’t the exact words that Jihoon had meant to use, but those were the words that had come out of his mouth. They weren’t a lie, because if there was a way that he could make it better for you, he would. If there was a way that Jihoon could make you happy, he would. Seeing you cry and upset was breaking his heart in ways that he couldn’t even explain or justify. 

You can’t help but let out an unamused laugh under your breath at Jihoon's words. not for everything, because you knew he was trying to help, but you couldn't help but be cynical about the whole situation. Fingers wrapping around yours as tears drip from your cheeks is what breaks you and you finally meet Jihoon’s eyes once again. 

“Nothing can make this better. I’m completely alone.” 

Holding your hand tighter, Jihoon sighs, sliding even closer to you before lifting your hand to show yours in his as he shakes his head. 

“You aren’t. I’m right here.” 

Your eyes slowly move over his fingers, delicately holding yours, and more tears fall from your eyes as you try to work through how it makes you feel. It’s overwhelming to have someone right beside you, their skin against yours, their eyes on you. The feeling makes you want more and you feel selfish but it’s a moment of weakness. 

Sliding on the couch, you move against Jihoon so that your cheek ends up against his chest. A surprised breath escapes from his lips before he finally moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you to him like you want him to. He can feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt but he can’t seem to find a reason to care as your fingers cling to his jacket and you sob quietly. 

Jihoon had hugged you before, but this was more than a hug. This was almost intimate as the moments passed and you started to calm down, only to stay in his arms even as he shifted to lay down on the couch, letting you rest on top of him. 

Lifting a shaky hand, Jihoon carefully ran it over your head, listening to you whine softly and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. He knew he had overstayed his welcome and he knew he should leave but that would mean he would have to tell you to move and that would mean he wouldn’t have you in his arms. He was selfish. What would Soonyoung do if he walked in the door right now? 

Pushing the thought of his best friend from his mind, Jihoon closes his eyes when you shift against him and you mutter his name, wrapping your fingers around his shirt and holding him to you. Your lips smack cutely and a soft snore tells Jihoon that you have in fact fallen asleep. Any plan to wake you at that point leaves him with the sound of his name on your tired lips. 

By the time you wake up Jihoon is gone and you have been placed in your bed. Furrowing your brows, you look around your dark room, confused, before glancing towards your nightstand to see where your phone is plugged up. He had done so much while you slept and not even woke you to say goodbye. 

Picking up your phone, you wince at the brightness of the screen, only to frown at the number of missed calls and text messages from Soonyoung. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring him the entire day and it didn’t help that you were missing his voice. You start to click on his name to read over the messages when two from Jihoon make you pause and check them first. 

Jihoon: I hope you don’t get upset that I put you in your bed. The couch is comfortable but your bed looked better

Jihoon: I’m sorry if I overstepped tonight. Just can’t let you cry like that

Furrowing your brows, you swallow hard, thinking back to how it felt to be held and how safe you felt— even for just a little while. 

Y/N: You don’t have anything to apologize for. Thank you for dealing with my bullshit. Sleep well, Hoonie

You wait for a moment, hoping that Jihoon will write you back, but it was asking a lot for him to be awake at 1:26 am. Soonyoung, on the other hand, would be well into his work day. Scrolling over to the clock you have set for his timezone, you let out a slow exhale, reading 5:26 pm, before checking your messages from him. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I love you so much

Soonyoung ❣️: Please don’t ignore me

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m going to work but I’ll keep my phone ringer on

Soonyoung ❣️: Could you please answer your phone

Soonyoung ❣️: Don’t you think this is a little childish?

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m sorry. Did Jihoon bring over some food?

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m assuming you fell asleep. Really fucking wish you would have talked to me today. Don’t really think I deserved the silent treatment. It hurts, Y/N…

His messages had ranged from hurt to angry and everything in between, and now you were feeling the same as tears gathered in your eyes once again. Two of his messages, in particular, sticking out and making your heart tighten to the point where your stomach felt queasy. ‘Don’t you think this is a little childish?’ and ‘It hurts, Y/N…’ He had no idea how much it hurt you. 

Wiping your cheeks, you tap his name on your phone with more force than is necessary, putting it to your ear as you pull your knees towards your stomach. It only takes two rings before Soonyoung picks up, sounding out of breath. 

“Hello?” 

In truth, Soonyoung had started to give up hope that you were going to call him but he hadn’t lied when he told you that he kept his ringer on. Hearing it ring, he had immediately sent everyone on a five minute break and answered you, leaning over to rest his free hand on his thigh, trying to catch his breath. 

“Hi.” 

He had hoped for more than that but he’d take what he could get right now. Your voice brings a smile to his face as Soonyoung reaches for his water bottle, taking a sip. Sliding down the mirrored wall, he leans his head back against it and sighs into the phone, finally feeling a bit less stressed. 

“I’m glad you called, babe. I can’t stay on the phone long, but I’d like to —” 

“It’s whatever…” 

Taking a deep breath at your interruption, Soonyoung closes his eyes because he can hear the tears in your voice. 

“I mean, no, it’s not. If you’d let me finish? Fuck, Y/N… First, you ignored me all damn day and now I can’t —” 

Biting his bottom lip, Soonyoung stops himself hearing you take a sharp breath. He had started to go off on you but he knew it was because he was wound up. Yes he was upset at you but now wasn’t the time to fight. 

“Baby…I was going to say that even though I can’t talk long right now, I’d like to talk soon. I wanna really talk. Maybe we could facetime? I wanna see your pretty face.” 

Soonyoung was giving you whiplash and it was almost too much to handle. You loved him so much but it was hard to go from one extreme to another with no way to touch him or to have his arms around you. 

“I’m just really tired, Soonie. Can I just go to bed?” 

You weren’t lying. You were exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically. His words were like rocks being added to a growing pile in your arms, pushing you deeper and deeper into a pit that you weren’t sure how to climb out of. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the mirror at your request while you also leave his question up in the air. He wasn’t sure how late it was for you but he had to assume it was late and he could hear the exhaustion and emotion in your voice. 

“Yeah…course, babe. I love you.” 

Looking out into your moonlit room, you find yourself staring at the picture of you and Soonyoung on your dresser with little to no emotion as you speak before hanging up your phone. 

“Love you too, bye.” 

Soonyoung had heard you say that you loved him hundreds, possibly thousands, of times over the span of your relationship and he had never heard it sound like that. He had never heard it said in such a way that it almost broke his heart. Letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, Soonyoung looks up when the pretty girl speaks to him again, a concerned look on her face. 

“You ok, Soonyoung?” 

Nodding, he puts on a smile and moves to his feet, causing her to take a step back to watch him as he puts his phone on silent. 

“Course I am, Aimi. Once everyone is back, we can run it from the chorus again.” 

Aimi grins at Soonyoung and his smile becomes genuine as he watches her take a step backwards on the wood floor. 

“‘Kay…hey, you wanna get drinks later?” 

When Soonyoung looks confused, Aimi laughs and lifts her hands, biting at her pretty lips that he can’t help but look at. 

“With me and a few of the dance team, of course.” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung glances down at his phone, tossing it up in the air and catching it before putting it on the table next to his water bottle. What could it hurt? Drinks with a few of his students, especially when the view would be nice for just a little while. Offering Aimi a grin, Sonyoung nods before leaning to pick up a towel and putting it around his neck as he watches him carefully, her eyes carefully moving over his exposed arms before moving back to his face. 

“Sure, sounds like fun.” 

“She just doesn’t answer my calls much anymore. I dunno what the fuck I’m supposed to do, man.” 

Soonyoung sighs, using his shoulder to keep his phone against his ear as he pulls his jacket from the closet, causing the unused hangers to clang together. On the other side of the phone, Jihoon leans back in his chair, rocking his head side to side to move his blond bangs out of his eyes. He lets out a breath as he pushes his mouse across his computer screen and dragging levels up and down in the music editing program by eye and muscle memory. 

“I don’t know. It’s not my place to —” 

“Couldn’t you just... I dunno, talk to her? Get her to listen to reason? You are so good at that.” 

Leaning his head back, Jihoon rolls his eyes as he pushes the mouse away from him out of annoyance. This wasn’t his job and he didn’t want to lie to you or tell you that it would all get better when clearly there was something going on that he couldn’t fix. 

“I’m not a fucking relationship therapist, Soonyoung.” 

Swallowing hard, Soonyoung stops just outside of his temporary apartment, hearing the anger in Jihoon’s voice. That hadn’t been the intention; he just wanted someone at bat for him, someone at home, to be in his corner for once. 

“I’m sorry, man... I’m not saying that. You’ve been nothing but helpful. You know, taking Y/N meals and watching out for her... I really appreciate it.” 

All of the things that Soonyoung was bringing up were things that Jihoon was happy to do for you. Maybe at first they were a little tedious but as time had gone by, days had turned to weeks, and weeks now to months—they were part of his life as much as you were. 

“It’s fine. Uh… Look, okay? I’ll try to talk to Y/N and see if I can get her to give you a call when I take her something to eat tonight.” 

The sounds of traffic make Soonyoung wonder if he had heard Jihoon wrong but he knew he hadn’t. Rubbing his lips together, Soonyoung nods as he furrows his brows, a bit of strain evident in his voice. 

“You’re gonna take her something to eat again tonight? Is that like, a common thing now? I just—yeah, I dunno, I figured it was every once in a while.” 

Shifting in his chair, Jihoon feels the apprehension in Soonyoung’s words. He knew that he should feel bad for how often he was spending time at your place but after holding you as you cried yourself to sleep, Jihoon couldn’t. 

“It’s pretty often. She’s lonely, Soonyoung. You are on the other side of the world. You’re the one who asked me to do it in the first place.” 

Soonyoung could feel the way his stomach was twisting with jealousy and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jihoon wasn’t wrong; he had asked him to do it, but he didn’t think he would be spending so many evenings hanging out with his girlfriend. He also didn’t really need his best friend to remind him of the distance between him and his girlfriend. The distance was very apparent and it was eating him alive. 

“Yeah, I know I did. I don’t need you to tell me how lonely she is. I’m fucking lonely too.” With his feet hitting the steps to the studio hard as he pouts into his words, “I wish I was at home. I wish I had never fuckin’ taken this job.” 

Running his fingers over his hair, Jihoon can’t help the way Soonyoung’s words hit him and made him feel bad for a split second. He couldn’t really understand the pain that his friend was feeling but it was obvious that he was suffering. Being with you almost every day, Jihoon saw your pain but today was the first time he had really heard Soonyoung’s, and even so, it didn’t make up for your tears. 

“Then maybe you should fucking tell her that.” 

You were pouting into your pint of ice cream as Jihoon watched you, finishing the last of his pasta. He had already tried to give you the “but Soonyoung just wants to talk to you; maybe you should call him tonight” talk and now you were being quiet. It wasn’t like you hadn’t sent Soonyoung texts throughout the day; you just hadn’t answered his phone calls or made any special effort to call him like you normally would. 

“The ice cream was meant to cheer you up.” 

Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you stab your spoon into your softening ice cream, making him wince at the sudden action. Clearly, you were upset at him, though he wasn’t sure that was entirely fair. He had just done what Soonyoung had asked of him and now it was biting him in the ass. 

Sighing, Jihoon puts his plate down on the coffee table before leaning forward to lift his hands as if to say he is surrendering. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend the evening with you. He enjoyed the evenings when the two of you would sit close on the couch. You’d turn on one of your silly trash reality shows and he’d let you try to explain who was fucking who and who was cheating on who. In reality, he was just enjoying your company—more than he should. 

“I’m sorry. I promised Soonyoung that I would try to put in a good word for him, but I can’t stand the idea that you might spoon me to death like your ice cream.” 

You wanted to stay mad at Jihoon, but he made it difficult. You had started to trust him not to just take Soonyoung’s side because he was asked to but clearly everyone had their limit. It was already asking a lot of Jihoon to keep you company like he was, so adding ‘taking your side in the arguments’ was asking maybe too much. 

“I don’t wanna talk to him right now, Jihoon. He has said something to me that I never thought—” Shaking your head, you pull your spoon free from your ice cream with a bit of a sad laugh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault. You’ve kept me sane.” 

Your words go right to Jihoon’s heart, causing him to have to look away in fear of how he might react. That was a big role to take in your life and he knew that when it came to you, he was taking it seriously. Jihoon knew he should feel bad for how he started to feel about you but as long as he kept those feelings to himself, they wouldn’t matter. 

“Uh—well I… You shouldn’t have to go through all this shit alone. I got tired of seeing you so lonely.” 

Furrowing your brows, you watch Jihoon speak and how he looks down at his hands. You had known him for a long time, but over the past few months, you had gotten to know him almost as well as you knew Soonyoung. There were tells in his mannerisms and it was almost like playing poker with him. You could tell when he wasn’t telling you everything. 

“I am lonely, Hoonie. You have helped me through a lot.” Sighing, you lean towards the coffee table to put your ice cream down before looking back over to Jihoon to meet his cautious eyes. “The food is nice but just having you here has been the best. Like last night, I really needed that.” 

You watch as Jihoon lifts his hand to run his fingers over his hair with a long sigh. Something was on his mind but he just wasn’t saying it. Tilting your head, you scoot closer to him and Jihoon laughs under his breath before you hear what sounds like a curse. Did he not want you to be close to him anymore? 

“I–I’m happy to help, Y/N. Last night, you said I didn’t overstep, but — fuck…” 

Meeting your eyes, Jihoon’s words die on his tongue. He knows he can’t disappoint you. Not when you look so sad and vulnerable. Not when you are so fucking pretty and looking at him like he is a buoy in the middle of a vast ocean. You let out a soft whine and Jihoon’s eyes fell to your lips just once before he winced and leaned forward to brush his against yours, not wanting you to feel so alone. 

At first, you freeze when you feel Jihoon’s lips against yours. Your brain misfires because you know it’s not Soonyoung and you know that you should push Jihoon away but then you relax. You sigh into the kiss and return it, letting Jihoon’s tongue slide along your bottom lip. 

You arch against his body when you feel Jihoon’s hand grasp your waist as you lean your head into his hand as he cups your cheek with his other hand. Your tongue glides along his and you moan softly into his mouth before finally Jihoon pulls away with one last peck on your lips. 

With his eyes closed tightly, Jihoon rests his forehead against yours, cursing himself silently. If he had thought he had overstepped the night before, now he had looked at the line and flipped it off. His hand trembles against your side and Jihoon sits back, looking up at the ceiling as you look at him coming out of your haze. 

“Jihoon…I—” 

“It was me. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Jihoon starts to pull away from you and you feel your stomach twist in panic so quickly that you grab his shirt to stop him. When your eyes meet, Jihoon looks at you confusedly, but you just shake your head and bite at your lips, trying to think quickly. 

“But I…I liked it.” 

2:30 am 

Jihoon groaned, looking at his lock screen again, before putting his phone face down on his bed. He had been staring at his ceiling for hours at this point, thoughts racing through his mind. All he could see was you looking at him with that sweet look on your face as he kissed you again. 

“Fuck!” 

There was so much that was fucked up about the situation. He had gone over to your house to talk you into calling Soonyoung. Instead, he had ended up making out with you on your couch before kissing you goodnight at your front door. 

Now he was the one avoiding Soonyoung’s text messages. He didn’t know what he was going to say to him. 'Hey, yeah, talked to her. Kissed her and then kissed her again. You’re cool with that, right?’ He was sure that would go over well. 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon runs his hand over his face before resting it on his bare chest as he tries to calm himself down but once again his thoughts land on you. He thinks about your fingers clinging to his shirt and how you sounded moaning into his mouth. He thinks about how sweet you would sound if he were between your—

Arching his hips off the bed, Jihoon groans at his own thoughts, trying to stop them but the damage is done. He had willed himself not to get hard while he was at your place but now he could feel his cock stiffening against his thigh under his shorts. This was pathetic; he was pathetic. All it took was thinking about how you’d sound if he were between your legs and he was hard and starting to leak. 

Jihoon knew he could ignore his problem and eventually it would go away but it would take a while and he was already struggling to go to sleep. Smacking his hand against the bed, Jihoon lifts his hips, pushing his shorts down, before kicking them off under the sheet, letting his now throbbing cock rest back towards his abdomen. 

Sighing in annoyance, he rubs his palm in a circle over his head to collect some of his pre-cum causing himself to hiss and buck his hips. Jihoon hated that his first thought as he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking himself from base to tip, was your hand in place of his. It was so fucking wrong of him to think about you like this while he was doing this, but it was doing the trick. 

Muttering your name under his breath into a groan, Jihoon picks up speed with his hand as he lifts his hips towards his fist, fucking into it with even strokes. It felt good but it was nothing compared to what he imagined your pussy must feel like. 

Soonyoung wasn’t a shy person. He was a jealous person, but that only made him brag more and that meant that he would overshare. Jihoon was thinking about that now as he squeezed his cock under his head, remembering how Soonyoung told him that your pussy was the tightest he had ever had and how you got so wet that he had to lay down towels and use his tongue to clean you up. 

Warm, sticky cum hits Jihoon’s stomach and runs down his fingers as he groans out your name one more time before pushing his head back against his pillow. He was out of breath, his heart racing, and you were still running laps in his head as he thought about you licking him clean.

With one last stroke and whimpering groan, Jihoon knows he has nothing else to give. Fingers unwrap from his softening cock as he takes steady breaths, feeling sleep trying to take over him, for him to now fight it, knowing he has to get cleaned up. 

He hated himself for what he had just done, but god if it didn’t feel worth it for how hard that he had cum and how well he would sleep. 

“Of course I would be excited to see you, Soonyoung…” 

You sigh into your words as you lean your head against your driver’s side window. You had a headache; it had been a long day at work and all you wanted to do was get out of traffic and get home. You didn’t really want to be on the phone with Soonyoung as he made empty promises but that is where you found yourself; listening to empty promises and stuck in a traffic jam. 

“I think I can make it happen in a couple weeks, maybe three.” 

The ever changing Soonyoung timeline. Shaking your head, you hold your phone with one hand and the steering wheel with the other as traffic starts to move in front of you. 

“Sure…” 

“I’m serious, Y/N! Why don’t you ever believe me? I feel like I’m the only one trying to make this work anymore.” 

Frowning, you start to speak, feeling emotion rising in your chest, when suddenly you are launched forward and pain spreads through your chest. Soonyoung waits to hear you speak but instead he hears the sound of your surprised yelp and then the sound of car horns. 

“Baby?” When you don’t answer him at first, Soonyoung paces in front of the mirrored wall, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/N? Talk to me, baby!” 

Muffled voices and a ringing in your ears are all you can hear as you try to shake your head to push away the foggy feeling. Someone takes your arm as you try to move and you hear a man tell you that you shouldn’t move until someone makes sure you are okay first. 

“What happened?” 

You can hear yourself better than you can hear the man, until finally your ears seem to pop just as your vision starts to clear and you see your airbag against your chest. 

“Car came up too fast behind you and knocked the hell out of you. I was in front of you.” 

Leaning up to try to see the man’s vehicle in front of you, the man ushers you back down and shakes his head. 

“Just a little damage. I’m not worried about it all that much. Your car is fucked and so is his.” 

Wincing as you lean your head back, you can feel the burn from where your airbag and the seatbelt protected you from much worse. You try to turn your head to look for the other driver, hearing sirens, but instead just look for the man you had been talking to. 

“Is he okay?” 

Sighing, the man nods, giving you an annoyed look. 

“Probably the drunk ones always get hurt less, they say.” 

Holding his free hand over his ear, Soonyoung struggles to make out as much of your conversation with the unknown man as he can but the moment he realizes you have been in a car accident, he’s panicking. Swallowing hard, Soonyoung clenches his chest as he ends the call with you and grits his teeth, making the decision to call the only other person he knew could be there for you when he couldn’t. 

“Yeah?” 

Jihoon was almost nervous to pick up the phone after seeing Soonyoung’s name but he did it anyway. He had been avoiding his best friend most of the day except for the stray text here or there but this was the first phone call he had actually accepted. 

“Jihoon!” 

The panic in Soonyoung’s voice made Jihoon sit up straight, his heart rate speeding up, because his first thought was that something was wrong and it could only be you. 

“Ji...I–fuck! I was on the phone with Y/N and I don’t know where she is.” 

He could hear Soonyoung struggling with his words as he paced, unsure what to do. Jihoon’s first thought was, Fuck, I couldn’t imagine how hard this would be for him if something happened to you but then he could imagine it. He needed to know what was wrong and where you were.  

“Slow down and tell me what the fuck is going on.” 

Nodding, Soonyoung runs his hand over his mouth and takes a breath, trying to start over slower and calmer. 

“We were talking on the phone and she dropped it, I think. I heard something loud and then some dude was talking to her. He said something about an accident. I think she was in a wreck.” 

Looking at his watch, Jihoon stands up from his chair, grabbing his keys and jacket, keeping his phone to his ear as he pushes his studio door open. He knew he should probably tell the others where he was going but, fuck it, they could figure it out. 

“It’s 5:30; she was probably going home. Maybe she got stuck on the highway. I’ll find her and call you back.” 

Jihoon groans at the woman sitting at the front desk of the emergency room as she stares up at him like he has three heads. 

“Like I told you, if you aren’t a relative or a loved one, you can’t go back to see Miss Y/L/N. You can wait in the waiting area.” 

His hair was starting to come loose from his bun with the number of times he had shaken his head. Jihoon was getting more annoyed by the minute. Gritting his teeth, he puts his palms flat on the desk and gives the woman a strained smile before tilting his head. 

“I am a loved one. Y/N is my girlfriend. I’d really like to see her now.” 

After a few more minutes of narrowing eyes at one another, Jihoon found himself being led back to your triage room, where you were sitting on a bed in a hospital gown with a frown. You were honestly so cute that he couldn’t help but pull the smallest of smiles from his lips. However, seeing the cut on your lip and eyebrow and the bruise that was already spreading along your neck, the smile quickly faded. 

Nodding to the nurse, Jihoon moves towards your bed as the woman pulls the door shut, giving you and him more privacy. The moment your eyes meet, the tears fall over the rims of your eyes and Jihoon’s heart breaks. 

“Hey…What’s that about? Did they say you have to stay overnight or something?” 

Shaking your head, you reach out to take Jihoon’s wrist in yours, pulling him closer so that he will sit next to you on your bed. You find yourself just wanting to be close to him. 

“No. I can go home as soon as the doctor makes sure I didn’t break anything and gets me a script for some pain meds.” 

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon turns his hand over, letting you rest yours in his as he looks over your face even closer now. He could see where the bruises would be and where the hospital had cleaned up your cuts but there was still some dried blood. His stomach was in knots because it never should have happened. 

“So why are you crying? Talk to me…” 

“My car is fucked for one and I—” Your voice falls over into a small sob, causing Jihoon to lift his hand, his thumb gently caressing your cheek to push the tears away. “I’m scared and I don’t wanna be alone now. Soonyoung is—” 

You don’t finish the sentence but Jihoon knows how it finishes. Soonyoung is so far away. He had heard you say it many times but this time it went right to his gut. He almost hated Soonyoung for leaving you alone and letting something like this happen to you, even though it wasn’t his fault and he had no way of preventing it whether he was here or not. 

“One thing at a time, Y/N. Come here…” 

Shifting on your hospital bed, Jihoon sits beside you, letting you curl against his chest so you can rest against him. He can feel your tears soaking through his shirt but he doesn’t mind it. The only thing he cares about is who is in his arms and whether you are safe. 

“Let’s go through things one at a time. Your car. I know you have insurance. We will call tomorrow and make sure it’s being taken care of. I can get you to and from work.” 

You start to complain but Jihoon just holds you tighter, making you sob softly against him before you nod. 

“And being alone...” 

You hear him let out a breath as he thinks of what to say so you do it first as you run your fingers along his chest around a button. 

“Could you stay with me for a few days?” 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon swallows hard as he leans his head back against the wall. He knew he should say no and that you should ask one of your girlfriends but he hates the idea of disappointing you. 

“Yeah…I can do that, honey.” 

“She’s banged up but she’s gonna be alright. They got her some pain meds and she’s out of work the rest of the week to rest.” 

Soonyoung furrowed his brows to Jihoon’s words. He could tell the man was whispering but he didn’t really know why… Was he still with you? Looking down at his phone, he tried to do the math in his head but it didn’t make sense. If it was 5:30 pm for him, that would mean it was at least after midnight for you, if not later. 

“Thanks for letting me know. Wish I was there… hate the idea of her being alone right now.” 

Sighing, Jihoon looks at you in your bed as he leans back in the armchair before shaking his head at Soonyoung’s words. He wasn’t sure how to work around what the man had just said to him. He wasn’t an idiot but he didn’t want to cause a fight. 

"Yeah, I don’t like it either but what is anyone going to do about it, Soonyoung? I told her that until her car is out of the shop, I’ll take her to and from work. That’s one less thing for her to worry about right now.” 

Maybe he was letting his imagination get the best of him. That was it. He had always been a jealous man when it came to you and there was no reason for him to be worried when it came to you and Jihoon. Nodding along with his best friend’s words, Soonyoung offers a smile to Aimi as she gestures for him to hurry up as she and a few of the other students wait by the door of the studio. 

“Thank you for doing that, Ji. I’ll try to call her later, after she’s got some rest. I owe you big time.” 

That was an understatement, is all Jihoon could think as he heard the sounds of a girl giggling just as Soonyoung hung up the phone call. Of course, it could be nothing but there was no way to know. 

Moving his eyes back over to you as your hands rested under your cheek, Jihoon tilted his head and started to stand up, intent on going to the couch, when you whispered his name. At first, he thinks you are just dreaming but then you sit up and look at him, making him stop in the doorway. 

“Hey, you okay? You need something to drink? More pain meds?” 

Shaking your head, you reach out your hand towards him and Jihoon’s heart beats hard in his chest at the implications of what you were asking of him. 

“Stay? Don’t wanna be alone.” 

Your voice is so tired and small. Jihoon closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding and moving towards the bed to crawl in behind you, laying a good distance away. He thinks you’ll be satisfied to have him just anywhere close to you but then you turn over and lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arm over him so that you can pull your body in close to his. 

“This okay, Hoonie?” 

Running his free hand through his now loose, long blond hair, Jihoon wants to tell you no and that you need to lay away from him but everything about that is a lie. There was nothing more that he wanted. He hears you sigh happily when his hand under you shifts to run his fingers along your back, allowing you to curl even tighter against him, your leg pulling to rest against his thigh. 

“Yeah, it’s okay, honey.” 

You smile at the pet name. It wasn’t something that Jihoon had called you much about or ever before, but you were enjoying it. It made your stomach feel warm and your heart feel fluttery. Nuzzling your cheek against his chest, you spread your fingers out along his abs and close them to scratch at his skin through his thin shirt with a sigh. 

“I like that…that name.” 

If anything, Jihoon knew he was crossing a line with it, but fuck, look at where he was and look at where you were. The line was 300 miles back and he was waving at it in the distance at this point. 

“I like it too. I like it too much.” 

Shaking your head, you glance up at Jihoon with a pout on your lips as he meets your eyes in the dim, moonlit room. You could see the apprehension on his face and you knew why it was there but as much as you knew you should feel guilty, he was the one here and he was the one taking care of you. 

Reaching up with your hand, you hold his chin in place so you can lean up to press your lips against his, granting you a soft groan from his. Jihoon’s brows furrow, and his fingers scratch lightly against your lower back right over your ass before he gasps for a breath, pulling away from you. 

“Y/N…” 

“I want you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon had felt bad about not giving in to you after you had confessed that you wanted him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you. God, if anything, he wanted you too much and that was what was killing him. You had pouted for a few minutes but then accepted his excuse that it was too fast and too soon after your accident before you fell asleep in his arms. 

The sun was starting to rise and he knew he would have to leave you, at least for a few hours today. He would need to go into the recording studio and at least explain his sudden disappearance and work for a couple hours, but god, did you make it hard to leave you. 

Running his fingers over your cheek as you nuzzle against his chest, Jihoon can’t help but smile as you smack your lips in your sleep. You are so cute that it is almost physically painful for him to look at you and not act on the whims that he feels. He wants to kiss you, put your back against the bed and show you how he would spoil you in bed. Instead, Jihoon just watches you sleep for a few minutes longer before he tries to slide his arm from under your body, only to feel your fingers tighten in the front of his t-shirt holding him to you. 

“Hoonie…don’t leave.” 

Your voice almost breaks his heart because he didn’t want to leave you but he had to. Sighing, Jihoon brushes your hair back, leaning to press his lips against yours, feeling you smile against his. With that, he’s able to maneuver his arm out, only for you to whimper against his lips and tug him back against you. 

“Honey…I have to go take a shower and get to work. I won’t be gone all day, I promise.” 

Looking down at you, Jihoon frowns at the darkening spot near your eye and lip. His eyes move down to where your tank top does nothing to hide your largest bruise on your shoulder and collarbone from where your seatbelt had been sitting. 

“I’m gonna miss you. Can’t you just stay?” 

Shaking his head, Jihoon leans to kiss your eyebrow lightly, then your split lip, before leaning to kiss your neck and collarbone, making you moan. It wasn’t his intention to turn you on; instead, he was just trying to kiss your wounds better but you couldn’t help but lace your fingers through his long hair, holding him to you. 

Groaning as he feels your heel run along his thigh, Jihoon takes a breath against your neck, trying to keep his head. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone and he never thought the next person would be his best friend’s girl, but here you were with your hands in his hair and your body pressed against his. 

“Jihoon…” 

His name on your lips is like a siren’s call and Jihoon’s resolve breaks. Meeting your eyes, his lips press against yours hard, only for you to whimper at the slight pain of your split lip. He pulls back, realizing that his kiss is gentle and tender as his tongue dances with yours. You feel his hand slide from your waist to your hip so that his fingers can press into the top of your shorts, making you arch off the bed, wanting him to take them off. 

“I can’t give you everything right now. I really do have to go in for a while today, but I’ll give you something, okay, honey?” 

Nodding, you whine out his name as Jihoon pulls back from you. His eyes move over your face and down your body as his fingers press into the top of your shorts, pulling them down your legs with trembling hands. The line was thousands of miles behind him now; he couldn’t even see it. All he could see was you. All Jihoon could hear was his name on your lips as he dropped your shorts on the bed next to him and you spread your legs for him.

Jihoon lets out a shaky breath and it dawns on him that there is no one else who matters who isn’t in this room. It’s just you and him. His eyes move from your face, down your body, and finally between your legs, where his mouth starts to water at the sight of you. Your perfect folds are spread to reveal just how wet your pussy has gotten for him. Not for Soonyoung, but for him. 

“Fuck…gonna eat you out, is that okay?” 

It had been so long since you had been touched, so having someone look at you the way Jihoon did was almost overwhelming. You felt like you could cum untouched by just the feeling of his eyes but then his question and what he wanted to do to you had you clenching around nothing. Whining, you nod, scooting your hips further down in the bed as Jihoon moves between your legs, leaning to press kisses to your soft thighs, waiting for your verbal answer.

“Yeah, please? God, please, Hoonie?” 

It wouldn’t take much convincing for Jihoon to give you what you wanted. With one hand wrapped around your hip, he uses his other to part your folds so he can see all of you. Letting out a groan to the sight, Jihoon glanced up the length of your body before shaking his head and spitting on to your clit before latching on to it with his mouth. 

Soonyoung was great at everything in bed but this was different. You hadn’t been with too many people before you met Soonyoung and up until this moment, you had been faithful to him, but there was something about Lee Jihoon between your legs that had tears already streaming down your face. The groans and grunts let out against your pussy were almost animalistic as he ground his face against you, fucking you with his tongue. 

Your fingers grip Jihoon’s hair, tugging at the long locks holding him closer between your legs as you feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen. It’s only when you are unable to hold it back anymore that you cry out his name and roll your hips hard against his face, cumming onto his tongue and chin. 

Jihoon groans quietly against your warm, wet folds as he laps at your cum, enjoying every last drop. His fingers lazily massage your folds, causing your thighs to jerk and for him to smile against your pussy until you whine his name as if asking for mercy. 

Licking his lips clean of you, Jihoon moves up between your legs to rest over you, kissing you gently and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He basks in the sounds of your moans as your fingers grip and almost tear at his shirt, wanting more but he had already told you he couldn’t give you everything just yet. Nudging his nose against yours, Jihoon smiles against your lips before pulling away as you almost sob his name but he knows this time it’s just a ploy to keep him in your bed. 

“I told you, honey, I gotta shower and get to work. I’ll pick up food tonight and we can cuddle when I get back.”

Turning on your side, you take a deep breath, feeling exhausted as you watch Jihoon walk towards your en suite, his fingers running through his long blonde hair. You knew you should feel guilty and maybe you did deep down but you had needs and right now, as your thighs ached from your legs being spread apart as he ate you out like his last meal, you couldn’t feel a single drop of guilt. 

You wake up to the sound of your phone, causing your brows to furrow in annoyance. You had been sleeping so well but still, your fingers reach out for your phone, bringing it to your ear as you answer it with a sleepy voice. 

“Hello? Jihoon?” 

Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung tries not to take too much offense to how you answer the phone because he can tell you were asleep and he can tell you aren’t yourself. Jihoon had told him that you were on some pretty strong pain medications, so maybe that was clouding your judgment. 

“No, baby, it’s me, Soonie.” 

You smile softly, feeling a warmth rush over you upon hearing Soonyoung’s voice. There was a conflicting feeling underlying it but on the surface, you were happy to hear from him. You missed him despite everything and you loved him. 

“Hi, Soonie.” 

That was more like it, you seemed more like yourself. Maybe a bit of a drunk version of yourself but still, you seemed happy to hear from him and that Soonyoung could handle. 

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” 

Whining as you turn over on your back, you put your hand on your shoulder, feeling the stretch in your arm, making Soonyoung hear you in pain. He knew if he could be on a plane and back with you in that moment, he would be, but it was literally impossible. 

“I’m fine. Just hurts a bit. I could probably go back to work earlier than the doctor said.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung punches in the code to his building as he rests his phone on his shoulder, letting his foot catch the door so he can get his stuff inside.

“No, baby… listen to what the doctor said. If you need more time to heal and rest, take it.” 

Pouting, you sit up in bed, looking around for Jihoon, remembering he had left for work long before. Nodding to Soonyoung’s words, you just sigh and give in to your current predicament. 

“I guess so. Maybe they will have the car fixed before Monday. I hate the idea of Hoonie driving me around.” 

Hoonie, it wasn’t like that was the first time he had heard you call his best friend that but for some reason this time it made his hair stand on end and his mouth go dry. Nodding, Soonyoung puts his groceries down hard on the counter, making you jump in your bed with a wince as you hear him sigh loudly. 

“You okay, Soonyoung?” 

Rolling his eyes, Soonyoung takes out one of his beers and pops it open, taking a sip as he leans against the counter, tilting his head as he looks at the label with narrowed eyes. 

“Course I am, babe. Get some rest. I love you.” 

Soonyoung doesn’t give you much time to respond before the sound of a phone call ending goes off in your ear and you are left with his picture staring back in your face. Furrowing your brows, you reach for your bottle of water that Jihoon had left and your bottle of pills, taking another one before settling back into your covers and trying to relax once again. 

Looking at his phone, Soonyoung runs his thumb along his contacts before he lands on Aimi and puts it to his ear, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips when he hears her pick up. 

“Hey, no, yeah... I’m fine. Just wanted to see if you wanted to come over and hang out.” 

Jihoon tried to be quiet while moving through your front door, but smelling food cooking as soon as he walked in made him realize there was no point in trying. Following his nose, he smiled while watching you stand in front of the stove in fresh clothes, humming along to something playing on your phone. If you had heard him come in, you weren’t letting him in on it. 

Sliding his hands around your waist, Jihoon laughs when you jump, dropping your spoon into your soup with a small splash of liquid that both of you are barely able to miss as it hits the floor. Jihoon whispers apologies against your ear before leaning to kiss your neck as you calm down and pout at him before he pulls away to get a paper towel to clean up. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you would have heard me come in.” 

Shaking your head, you look down in your soup for the lost spoon before Jihoon moves back to your side, dipping his fingers in and pulling it out with a small hiss to the heat, letting you take it from him. 

“I didn’t, but I’m glad you are home.” 

Home. What a loaded word. This wasn’t his home but you made him wish it was. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded it wasn’t his home as Soonyoung smiled at him from the fridge and the walls, but he was getting pretty good at ignoring him. 

Sliding his hand along your hip, Jihoon takes a deep breath of the steam coming off the soup, nodding appreciatively as you look up at his content. This was the happiest you had been all day since before he left you for work. It was the most coherent you had been as well. You barely remembered your phone call with Soonyoung and you hadn’t received any text messages from him so you knew he was asleep or something. It didn’t matter. 

“Can you get down a couple bowls and we can eat on the couch? We have some trash TV to catch up on.” 

This was the perfect way to spend an evening and how Jihoon wished he could spend every single evening. He didn’t need to worry about rushing off. His stomach was full of food that you had made for him and now you were lying in his arms as the TV played one of your silly shows that you cared too much about.

Fingers lightly strum over Jihoon’s chest as you smile, listening to his heartbeat more than you listen to the arguments or gossip on the show. You find yourself enjoying the feeling of Jihoon’s hand cupping your hip and his thumb resting under your shirt above your shorts more than you do anything else. You never want the night to end or maybe it is more than that, something deeper but it’s nothing that you can talk about out loud just yet.  

When your eyes meet Jihoon's, he smiles at you and you feel like you are melting on the spot because it's been so long since someone has looked at you like that. Since someone has really looked at you, you feel like you could get lost in his eyes as his fingers lightly move across your cheek and down your jaw before he leans in to press his lips to yours, and you melt all over again. There’s something there that is unspoken and it will remain unspoken for the sake of everyone involved. You just kiss and give into it. 

Jihoon groans when he finally moves you to your bed and has you sitting on his lap. He whines into your mouth, feeling the weight of you over his hard cock. He wants to tell you that maybe this is too much or too fast but what about if this is too much or too fast? What about this? Is it even right? He knows it and he knows what you do too, so instead he just gives into it. 

Clothes find their way into the floor until your skin is naked against Jihoon and his fingers can finally move over your soft skin like he has always wanted to. He feels dirty and like this isn’t his—because it isn't—and yet something whispers in his ear that you are his. Right now, at this moment, you are his. 

“Please?” 

One word falls from your lips and Jihoon will give you the world; he will bring down the moon and the stars for you to make it better. Resting on your back, you cling to Jihoon, his hair falling from his bun as he looks down at you, his right hand sliding along your inner thigh, working its way towards your warm center. Two fingers slide between your wet folds and Jihoon’s lips fall open in the same way yours do as he works his fingers into your pussy, feeling your warm walls clench around them. 

He remembers in that moment Soonyoung bragging to him about how tight and messy you are and he can’t help but smirk to himself that he is getting to know that firsthand. Groaning against his arm, Jihoon can barely move his fingers inside of you, searching for that one spot that will make you scream his name but when he finds it, you arch off the bed and Jihoon almost cums on the spot, untouched by the sight of you and the sounds that come out of your mouth. 

Your velvet walls tremble around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you at almost a brutal pace, trying to get you ready for his cock without even thinking about anything else. All Jihoon can think about is your wet slick seeping around his fingers and how it is running down  his wrist with each deep thrust of his fingers. He is just thinking about how good it will feel on his cock and how sweet you will sound as he’s pushing you into the mattress that you share with Soonyoung. 

Shaking his head to push Soonyoung out of it, Jihoon groans your name as your nails scratch his chest and along his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips when you cum. He groans loudly, feeling his fingers being sucked back into you with each wave of your orgasm, making it almost impossible for him to pull away from you until you finally relax and your thighs stop shaking. 

Smiling, Jihoon presses kisses on your cheek and along your neck before looking up at you to meet your eyes as he slips his fingers from your dripping center. You watch as he brings them to his lips and sucks each one of them clean with a small groan, making you whine under him. 

“Hoonie, please, I need you.” 

“Yeah? I won’t make you wait, honey.” 

Leaning over you, Jihoon opens the nightstand he knows to be Soonyoung and groans when he only finds an empty box of condoms before resting his head on his bicep. 

“Baby, do you have condoms on your side?” 

Swallowing hard, you shake your head already, knowing you don’t. Dread feels you knowing that if you don’t say something, he won’t fuck you like you want him to. Lifting your hand, you cling to Jihoon’s arm and whine as sweetly as you can, making him look down at you as you look up at him through lowered lashes. 

“I don't, but I’m on birth control, Jihoon. That’s why we don’t have anything here. Just fuck me, please?” 

Jihoon knew he should say no and wait until he could pick something up but that look in your eyes and the sweet tone of your voice were killing him. You hadn’t been with anyone else besides Soonyoung in years and he knew he hadn’t been with anyone in months, maybe closer to a year. Groaning, Jihoon rests his forehead against your shoulder before nodding, making you smile as you run your fingers through his hair. 

Learning from you, Jihoon pushes down his boxers, kicking off the last remaining piece of clothing, keeping him separated from you as your eyes follow him. Swallowing hard, you watch as he strokes himself a few times before he meets your eyes as if looking for permission once again, only for you to nod and slide your leg up and off to the side, letting him move back between your thighs. 

Running his thumb over your clit first, Jihoon watches how your body jerks, making him smirk before he follows that same action with the head of his cock. His brows furrowed as he made a pass with his tip between your folds to collect some of your arousal before finally meeting your eyes as he pushed into you for the first time, slow and steady. 

You had been used to the feeling of Soonyoung stretching you out so the feeling of Jihoon was completely different. Soonyoung was longer, whereas Jihoon had girth and it was almost painful as he sank into you, making you see white for a moment. A moan gets caught in your throat when Jihoon bottoms out and he stays where he is, catching his breath as you clench around him, making it impossible for him to move at first. 

“Oh…shit. Y/N, you gotta relax. Relax for me, honey.” 

Nodding, you do your best to listen to Jihoon’s voice and let your body relax as his fingers stroke the side of your face into your hair. You smile at the feeling of his lips pressing against your throat, feeling his smile against your skin when you do as he asked you to. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Can I move?” 

Whining out a yes, you nod and scratch at Jihoon’s back as he starts to thrust slowly but deeply, making you cry once again. Tears of pleasure begin to stream down your face and over Jihoon’s thumb, causing him to look up in concern until he sees the blissed out look on your face. 

Wiping the tears from your face, Jihoon groans your name, picking up his pace and listening to you cry out his name as you tighten around him once again. He didn’t need you to tell him that you were close. He could feel it as your orgasm started to rip through you. The way you got impossibly wetter and how you clamped down on him and held him inside of you like a vice. 

Groaning your name, it soon turns into a hiss as he follows you over that edge in a panic, trying to pull out only to have you cling to him with tears in your eyes, begging him to stay. Nodding, Jihoon relaxes, and his cum fills you with each deep thrust, making you throw your head back with a moan of his name. 

Collapsing on top of you, Jihoon struggles to catch his breath for a moment as sweat rolls along his neck and down his chest to your skin. Licking your lips, you run your fingers through his hair and over his back as you come down from your high, feeling like you have been to the moon and back. 

“Fuck…” 

A smile pulls at your lips as Jihoon curses against your neck. After a few moments, he rolls over to your side, pulling from you carefully, before resting his forearm over his eyes, still catching his breath as if he had just run a mile. Shaking your head, you can’t help but admire the man beside you in your bed under the moonlight, as if he is a piece of art, as with each of his breaths, his muscles expand and contract, showing off all his hard work spent in the gym. 

“Thank you, Jihoon. I really needed that.” 

Laughing, Jihoon just shakes his head, moving his arm to look at you before laughing again and pulling you into his arms to kiss you softly, making you smile. 

“Why are you thanking me for fucking you?” 

Shrugging you, run your finger nails along his abs, making him suck in on a breath as he leans his head back against the pillows. 

“What else am I supposed to say?” 

Shaking his head, Jihoon runs his fingers over your back and furrows his brows, realizing he isn’t even sure what the right answer to that question is. It isn’t that you love him or that he loves you, not even if it were true. So perhaps your response was appropriate for the time. Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling, staying quiet for a moment before lightly patting your back. 

“I don’t know, but I do know we need a shower. We smell like sex.” 

Laughing, you watch Jihoon slide out of your bed and around towards the ensuite, where the water for the shower starts to run. 

“Such a romantic, Lee Jihoon.” 

Grinning, Jihoon leans against the bathroom counter, looking at himself in the mirror as the room starts to fill with steam and he waits for you to join him. 

“Yeah, I know I am, honey.” 

Staring at your phone, you run your thumb over Soonyoung’s face as you think about what happened between you and Jihoon. The guilt had started to weigh heavily on you. That wasn’t who you were. You had always been faithful to Soonyoung because that’s the type of person he and you were. 

Pressing your thumb down over his name, you put the phone to your ear and sigh. You knew it was pretty early in Tokyo. It was after 5 pm for you and Jihoon would be coming back home soon so that would mean Soonyoung was probably getting ready to leave for work. What you didn’t expect was someone else to pick up his phone. 

“Hello?” 

A sweet female’s voice greets your ear and you feel like the walls that have been stable around you are crashing down around you. You hear her say hello again before you shake some sense into yourself and look at your hands, finally able to speak. 

“Uh hi… I was trying to reach Soonyoung.” 

The girl smiles into her words before giggling as she looks around his apartment, listening to the shower turn off. 

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s getting out of the showe—” 

“Hello?” 

Soonyoung had heard Aimi talking to someone and there were only a few people who would be calling him this early in the morning. Taking the phone out of her hand, he shoots her an annoyed look as he glances at your face on his screen before trying to get you to talk to him. 

“Baby?” 

Aimi pouts while watching Soonyoung hold his towel up around his waist as she sits back on his bed. Her eyes follow him as he moves into the bathroom, shutting the door where she can’t hear him anymore. 

“Who was that, Soonyoung?” 

Sighing as he leans against the counter, Soonyoung tries to think of his feet and the best thing he can think of is a half truth. 

“A student. I–uh I gotta work on some stuff with her before class. She showed up too early. Sorry, she answered my phone, babe. Won’t happen again.” 

Tears gather at the rims of your eyes as you just nod along with Soonyoung’s words. You knew deep down that there was nothing you should have over him after what had happened between you and Jihoon but it still hurt. You didn’t believe him because you knew what Soonyoung sounded like when he was lying. 

“Baby? You–you heard me, right?” 

Wiping at your cheeks, you just nod again before looking up at the entryway to your bedroom, where Jihoon is standing with a concerned look on his face. 

“Yeah, I heard you. I gotta go, Soonyoung.” 

Leaning his head down towards the sink, Soonyoung groans under his breath. He didn’t want to just let you get off the phone after something like this but he couldn’t force you to stay on the phone and listen to him come up with excuses. 

‘Yeah…okay baby. I love you, so so much.” 

Looking up at Jihoon, you wipe at your cheek once more, answering Soonyoung numbly while your words are left in the air, causing Jihoon’s heart to tighten. 

“I love you.” 

Hanging up your phone, you drop it onto the bed and close your eyes before you feel the mattress sink next to you and Jihoon’s arms wrap around you. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he knew you were in pain and if he could take it away, he would. 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon rests his face against your hair and takes in a deep breath, letting it out as you let out a soft, sad sob that shatters his heart. He knew that you were talking to Soonyoung. He knew that ‘I love you’ hadn’t been meant for him but he wished it had been. In his mind, he would never leave you like this. He wouldn’t have you crying because of him day after day. 

“Y/N…honey…do you wanna talk about it?” 

Shaking your head, you start to tell him no before you lean back to meet his eyes and all of your resolve melts away. Jihoon can only coo at you in sympathy, bringing his thumbs up to push the tears from under your eyes as you try to explain about the girl picking up the phone. 

“What do you want me to do, baby? I’ll call him and cuss his ass out. I’ll call her.” 

The words were nice but deep down, even Jihoon knew what you and he were doing was no better. At the end of the day, you didn’t really know if Soonyoung was sleeping with this girl, but did it really matter? 

Moving to lay against Jihoon, you shake your head hard and cling to Jihoon like a life raft to keep you from drowning. You know that you shouldn’t want him as much as you do but all you can think about in that moment is his lips on yours and how it would distract you from your heartbreak. 

“No, no…just…” 

This was becoming the routine for the two of you. Jihoon would go to work and come home before ending up on top of you, either in bed or on the couch, where the two of you would eventually end up naked. 

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon groans as you lay back on your bed, pulling him with you. He knew what you wanted as your fingers pulled at his shirt and worked his hair loose from its bun. He didn’t want to tell you no, so he wouldn’t. Instead, Jihoon just meshes his lips with yours and kisses away your pain and tears. With each piece of clothing that he removes from you or himself, that’s just another layer of anxiety or stress that he is removing until finally his skin is met with yours. 

“Hoonie…be rough with me?” 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon bites down lightly against your neck, near where your bruise was starting to fade when you asked him that question. There had been times when he had wanted to let go with you and just have his way with you but he had been afraid to hurt you or scare you, but now you were asking. 

“You sure, honey?” 

Nodding, you scratch your nails along Jihoon’s back, knowing that you are leaving marks that will fade in a few minutes. You didn’t want to think anymore; you just wanted to feel. All you wanted in your brain was Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon. 

Hissing at the feeling of your nails on his skin, Jihoon pulls back to look down at you with fire in his eyes. He would give you what you wanted. Licking his lips, Jihoon stares at you for a moment, only to then capture your lips with his in a breathtaking kiss. You whine into his mouth as Jihoon’s teeth nip at your lips before he pulls away completely, kneeling on the bed in front of you. 

“Come here; let me use that mouth.” 

Turning over, you blink up at Jihoon, only for him to pull you to where he wants you with one hand as he holds his cock in his other. Sucking on his bottom lip, Jihoon tilts his head, watching your eyes fall to what’s in front of you before you open your mouth and he taps his head on your tongue a couple times before sliding into your warm, wet mouth with a groan. 

“Fuck…just like that. Hands on my thighs, baby. If it’s too much, tap a few times, and I’ll stop.” 

Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you moan around his cock and he almost loses it right then and there. He could feel your nails digging into his thighs as he buried his cock into your mouth, his tip almost reaching the back of your throat. The sound of your moans mixed with gagging caused Jihoon’s brain to misfire as he groaned your name. 

Fingers hold your head close to his hips as Jihoon keeps you as close to him as possible until he hears you whine and he lets you go. Leaning your head back, you blink up through tears as Jihoon wipes his hand over his lips, watching his pre-cum and your saliva drips down your chin. The sight is something he knows he won’t forget for a long time. 

“Good fucking girl, honey. Now turn your ass towards me. You want it rough, don’t you?” 

Nodding, you can barely answer Jihoon as you weakly move into the position he wants you in. Hands slap at your thighs, causing them to sting, before the same hands come down on your ass, making you cry out in surprise. Leaning over your back, Jihoon smiles against your ear, listening to you calm down as he presses small kisses on your skin. 

“You like that? When I spank you?” 

“Yeah, I like it, Hoonie.” 

Smirking, Jihoon pushes off the bed and slaps his hand down over your ass cheek one more time, listening to the sound of your moaning cry as he rubs his hand in a circle over the warm skin. With his free hand, he uses his thumb to spread your folds as he ruts his hips against you from behind, feeling your arousal drip onto his cock. 

“Honey…You are soaked. Might make me think you like being treated like a slut.” 

Whimpering in embarrassment, you bury your face against your arm. You listen to Jihoon laugh as his fingers dig into your hip. The fingers that once were running between your folds now help to press his cock against your leaking hole. 

Gasping, you scratch at the bedding under you, feeling the way that Jihoon’s cock stretches you in this new position. When his cock is fully buried inside, only then are you able to fully catch your breath, only to have it taken when it gives you no mercy and starts to pound into you relentlessly. 

You knew what you had asked for and Jihoon was delivering it. There were no coherent thoughts left in your mind. The only thing you could think about was him until the sound of his phone going off just as you were about to cum brought you back to reality. 

Frowning, Jihoon glances towards the nightstand to see Soonyoung’s face lighting up on his phone. Leaning over your back, Jihoon groans your name, feeling you tighten around him, only for you to glance towards the phone. He can feel the exact moment when you fall under him and he knows the moment is lost. 

“Stop…stop…please?” 

Coming to a stop, Jihoon carefully pulls from you as you ask him to, his head turning away from the phone only for a moment before he curses under his breath and smacks it from the nightstand. Bringing the phone to his ear, still out of breath, he answers the call, anger evident in his tone.  

“Yeah?” 

Taken aback by the anger, Soonyoung furrows his brows and wipes his towel across his neck to clean off a new layer of sweat from practice. Maybe Jihoon had been at the gym and he was interrupting a set, but he had never gotten that sort of response or that level. 

“Am I bothering you? Fuck, dude…” 

Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sits on the side of your bed, feeling his head start to hurt as you turn away from him and pull your legs up towards your stomach. He knew you were feeling shame and guilt when you didn’t need to and it was Soonyoung’s fault, it was his fault. You weren’t at fault for this. 

“Yeah, you are. What do you want?” 

Scoffing, Soonyoung looks at himself in the mirror, clenching his fist and unclenching it before letting out a sigh. 

“I was just waiting to check in. I wanted to see if you had talked to Y/N today. Something happened earlier and I am just…” 

The laugh starts off unamused but ends up being a genuine laugh as Jihoon leans his head back, causing Soonyoung to be even more confused until Jihoon speaks. 

“The chick picking up the phone? I know about it. Be smarter about your hook-ups if you are trying to keep them from your girl, Soonyoung.” 

Now Soonyoung was seeing red. Jihoon might be his best friend but that didn’t give him the right to tell him how to live his life or how to handle his relationship with you. Especially when he was getting awfully cozy with you. 

“Fuck you, man. You have no idea what I’m going through. Know what I think?” 

Making a questioning sound, Jihoon lifts his brows, waiting for Soonyoung to continue but Soonyoung just scoffs, putting his fist against the mirror. 

“I’m waiting to hear the great gospel, according to Kwon Soonyoung.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung hangs up the call and turns to slide down the mirror to sit on the floor as Aimi frowns at him. Moving closer, she kneels in front of him, brushing her fingers over his cheek and he gives in, leaning into a friendly touch. 

Three Weeks Later

You had just gotten your car back. You and Jihoon had started splitting time between who’s place you would stay at but today just happened to be one of the evenings when he was busy and you needed a little time to yourself. 

Rubbing the back of your neck, you drop your keys into the bowl beside the door and sigh, not noticing the extra shoes beside the door. You don’t notice the suitcase next to the couch until the smell of Soonyoung’s cologne overwhelms you. 

“Hey baby.” 

Startled, you take a step back as Soonyoung smiles at you, his brows furrowing at your reaction to him. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to just show up but you had started ignoring his calls more and answering fewer texts and he was starting to worry about you. He was starting to worry about you and him. 

“Oh, hey, sorry... didn’t mean to scare you, babe.” 

Grinning, Soonyoung moves towards you, pulling you into his arms as you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling tears stinging your eyes. You feel overwhelmed and uncertain what to do or how to feel. He doesn’t seem real, even if he’s in your arms. The man that you have loved for so many years of your life now just feels like guilt in your hands. 

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

Nodding, you cling to Soonyoung, not wanting him to see any disappointment on your face. Because you aren’t really disappointed. You have missed him. No matter anything that had happened or would happen, this man was your friend and you always wanted him to be. He had started that way, as your best friend. He knew how to make you laugh better than anyone and you loved him for that. 

“Of course I am, Soonie. When did you get here?” 

Soonyoung smiles, burying his nose against your hair and taking in your scent as he closes his eyes. He tries to count the time in his head but the jet lag makes everything muddle together. Shaking his head, he just laughs and shrugs his shoulders. 

“Couple of hours ago. Just enough time to throw some left over in the oven and a load of laundry in. All I wanna do now is lay down and cuddle with my girl. Can we do that?” 

Your heart feels like glass as you listen to Soonyoung talk, because it sounds so simple. You want to tell him everything he wants to hear so you just do it. You nod and look up at him with a smile, letting him press a kiss to your lips that you meekly return, though your brain drifts to Jihoon. 

“Yeah, of course. Let me... let me–uh change and we can lay on the couch.” 

Whining, Soonyoung wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face against your neck as you start to walk away from him. Your hand on your cellphone is in your jacket pocket as he pulls you back against him. 

“Not the couch, kitten. I wanna lay on the bed. I’m tired… cuddle with me.” 

You scoff into an unamused laugh before nodding and looking over your shoulder at Soonyoung, who smiles at you so sweetly that you can’t say no. 

“Yeah, the bed. I’ll change and meet you there.” 

Watching Soonyoung trudge off down the hall, you let out a breath, pulling out your cellphone to text Jihoon with shaking hands. 

Y/N 💗: Soonyoung is home 

The day had been long but the night was going to be longer. Jihoon hated album wrap ups but as a producer, sometimes he had to do grunt work up until the early hours of the morning. Hearing his phone go off was one thing that could make him smile until he read your text and his face fell. 

Muttering fuck under his breath and drawing the attention of a friend in the studio with him, Jihoon apologizes, turning his chair away to answer you. 

Hoonie 💗: For how long?

Y/N 💗: I have no idea

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jihoon puts his phone face down on his desk in front of him. It wasn’t your fault. In truth, Soonyoung had given you both a warning when he said two or three weeks, but he usually never kept those promises.

Looking at your phone as you move into your room, you glance at the bed to see Soonyoung lying where Jihoon usually would be now. A smile on the man’s face as he flips through channels on the TV, picking what he wants instead of what you like. 

Eyes shift towards you as you move into the closet, closing it halfway and making Soonyoung’s brows furrow. You had never shied away from him before, but it had been several months since he had been home so maybe that was all this was. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the TV and leaned his head back against the pillows, enjoying the comforts of home. 

Hanging up your jacket, you swallow hard, seeing no new texts from Jihoon. You couldn’t blame him. There wasn’t anything else to say. You could hear the TV and Soonyoung’s soft laughter, which made you wish that things were as easy as he was making them seem. 

“Soonie…babe? How…uh, how long are you home?” 

Pursing his lips, Soonyoung glances towards the closet again, seeing a peek of your skin as you change into your classic choice of pajamas, a tank top, and short shorts. In one way, your question was a simple and normal one, but in another way, it seemed suspicious. Soonyoung decided to keep it simple and think that you were just curious about his plans. 

“Wish it was longer, but... I fly out tomorrow night.” 

Staring at the clothes in front of you, a scoff falls from your lips. The first thought on your mind is “What was the fucking point?” but you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you just pick up your phone and text Jihoon as you shake your head. 

Y/N 💗: He flies out tomorrow night.

You don’t expect a text back, so you just hold your phone to your waist until you move to the bed, smiling at Soonyoung. Laying your phone face down, you plug it in, leaving it silent, before slipping under the covers and letting your boyfriend pull you in close to him with a happy groan. 

“You aren’t mad at me, are you? I tried to find a better time but it’s so fucking busy. They keep trying to keep me on full time.” 

Furrowing your brows, you look up at Soonyoung to gauge his expression but it’s almost impossible to judge. You start to realize you aren’t sure you know this man anymore. 

“And what do you want to do?” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung stumbles over his words before just smiling at you and running his fingers along your jaw. 

“Right now? I just wanna kiss my beautiful girlfriend. I’ve missed you so fucking much, baby.” 

You knew he was deflecting but you also didn’t want to argue. You didn’t have the strength or the will to fight with the one person who you had simultaneously missed and hated over the past few months. So you give in, closing your eyes as Soonyoung’s lips brush over yours. You take a breath as his hand slides along your waist and he pulls you closer before laying you on your back so he can lay on top of you. 

Nothing feels the way it should. At one point in your life, you loved Soonyoung with every fiber of your being. His touch was electric; his mouth was like fire on your skin, but now you feel dull as he groans your name, his thigh pressed between your legs. It isn’t that it doesn’t feel good or that you aren’t able to get off on it; it’s more to do with the fact that you are picturing someone else in your bed. 

Keeping your eyes shut tightly, you whine when Soonyoung’s lips brush over your stomach as his fingers tug your shorts down so he can lay between your thighs. He gasps at the sight of your wet folds before pulling them apart with his thumbs so he can run his tongue from your entrance all the way to your clit, causing you to arch off the bed. 

With a smirk, Soonyoung can’t help but let how you are reacting go to his head. All he can think about is how good he makes you feel and how you taste on his tongue. In his mind, this is the first time you have had someone's tongue on your pretty pussy in months and it’s his alone. 

“Fuccckk….kitten. My sweet girl. So fucking messy. Getting juice all over my face. You should just come back to Tokyo with me.” 

Shaking your head, you want him to stop talking so you push Soonyoung’s head back down between your legs so that his mouth is flush with your pussy. Two fingers work their way into your tight hole and Soonyoung groans around your clit, feeling how you clench down on them. He practically growls when your fingernails scratch at his scalp, feeling like you finally cum for him, though you made him work for it. 

Coming up for air, Soonyoung chuckles, looking down at you as you hide your face. You look so cute and shy. You remind him of when the two of you first got together and how innocent you had been before he rammed his cock into you, much like he was going to do now. 

Watching your mouth fall open in a moan, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip as his hands hold to your hips as he thrusts into you hard and fast. He had missed you and honestly, there was no one else like you. Nothing could compare to how your pussy would clench down on his cock and hold him inside of you like you were trying to keep him forever. God, how he wanted you to keep him forever in that moment, even if his mind momentarily slipped to Aimi whining on his bed. 

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Soonyoung falls on top of you. His mouth finds your neck as he bites and sucks deep marks that he hopes will stay for at least long enough for you to remember where he was. His thrusts grow impatient and uneven until finally you hear his high pitched groan against your skin when Soonyoung cums inside of you. 

Tears roll from your eyes and along your temples as your hand rests on your forehead, the other against his back, feeling him push his cum back inside of you. At one point in your life, you would have loved that feeling but you knew at that moment that you didn’t love him anymore or at least you didn’t love him as much as you once did. How were you supposed to tell the person who was the love of your life something like that? 

You wake up alone the next morning, your eyes swollen from crying yourself silently to sleep the night before. Turning to look for Soonyoung, you find nothing but an empty bed and his jacket slung over the chair in the corner. Only the smell of food cooking in the kitchen lets you know that you aren’t truly alone. 

Reaching for your phone, you sniff back fresh tears as you check for new messages, seeing a couple from Jihoon that actually work to calm you down. 

Hoon 💗: Then I’ll come over once he’s gone

Hoon 💗: You still got me, honey 

Smiling, you run your thumb over the screen and send back a simple heart emoji before turning in the direction of where Soonyoung’s phone dings. Glancing towards the door, you lean over the bed and pick up his phone, looking at the lock screen and seeing a few messages from Aimi. 

Aimi: So bored without you 

Aimi: OMG come back already…

Aimi: 🥺

You know that you should feel hurt or angry when you see the messages but instead you find yourself suddenly indifferent as you turn Soonyoung’s phone face down on his nightstand and slide out of bed. Slipping on your robe, you make your way out towards the kitchen, putting on a smile as he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips with a sigh. 

“Good morning, gorgeous.” 

Humming, you slide on to a bar stool and look at the food he has made, noting you would have to go grocery shopping once again. It was a nice gesture on his part but when you were practically living on your own most days, paying rent on your own while your boyfriend was off living his dreams, you couldn’t just buy anything and everything you wanted. 

“What time is your flight?” 

Wincing, Soonyoung turns to take the juice out of the fridge, glancing towards the microwave for the time being before tilting his head back and forth before looking at you for sympathy. 

“I’ll have to leave here around 2ish if I wanna make it through security and all that international shit on time.” 

Glancing at the clock, you lift your brows and sigh before leaning your chin on your arm as Soonyoung pours two cups of juice, watching you closely. 

“You aren’t mad at me? I know it’s a short visit but I wanted to at least try. I’ve missed you so much, kitten.” 

Shaking your head, you pick up a piece of bacon and chew on it with a sigh from your nose before meeting his eyes.

“You have to do what you have to do, Soonyoung.” 

Your indifference causes Soonyoung’s brows to furrow and his stomach to twist with anxiety but he still tries to offer you a smile. Taking a sip of his juice, he pushes yours towards you before looking at the fridge and seeing a picture of you and Jihoon smiling, heads pushed together. It looks innocent enough but it still makes his heart hurt. Gesturing towards it, Soonyoung clears his throat and licks his lips of any remaining juice. 

“You and Jihoon have gotten pretty close.” 

Looking at the picture, you can’t help but smile, remembering the day Jihoon went with you to the farmer’s market and how he hadn’t complained a single time. Shrugging at Soonyoung’s words, you look down at the food in front of you, pushing around the eggs before sighing softly. 

“He’s a good person. He’s good to me. Don’t you want someone to be good to me?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip at the accusation that seems to be lingering right under your question but instead of giving into his anger, he just looks down at his own plate of food and lets out a long, drawn out breath. 

“Course I do, babe. I love you more than anything.” 

Rolling your eyes, you think back to the text messages from Aimi and mutter under your breath that you doubt that, making Soonyoung lean his head in towards you over the counter in confusion. 

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear you.” 

“Nothing, just said... I love you too.” 

You had watched Soonyoung repack his carry-on and grab a couple of things out of your shared closet before he kissed you goodbye with a concerned look on his face. You only offer him a half smile, leaning against the door frame, as he looks back, telling you he will let you know when he lands and how much he loves you. 

“Mmkay, have a safe flight.” 

Pausing, Soonyoung licks his lips, lifting his hand to block the sun as he looks at you, trying to remember what it felt like when you were head over heels for him. Something was different. He knew it and so did you but neither of you were willing to say it. 

Nodding as his gaze drops to the ground, Soonyoung can only let out a half amused laugh, realizing you hadn’t told him that you loved him back. Maybe it had been a mistake or just because you seemed so tired, but looking up and meeting your eyes—seeing the tears even from halfway down the driveway—he knew it wasn’t. 

“Okay, babe.” 

If this had been the old you—the old Soonyoung—you would have walked to the end of the driveway with him. You would have begged him not to go back and told him how much you loved him—to the end of the earth and back. But that wasn’t who either of you were anymore, so instead, you watched from the door as the car drove down the road before turning back inside and closing the door. 

Normally, you would have shed tears and found yourself curled up in bed with your cellphone clenched against your chest, waiting for him to message you about his flight but this time you knew it was different. You felt like you could breathe. There was a sense of pain mixed with your relief—such a strange feeling that you couldn’t name. 

Jihoon had waited half an hour to come over after Soonyoung had left for his flight. He had sent his texts to his best friend, wishing him a safe flight and all the usual pleasantries but at the heart of it, he was waiting to get back to you. It had been too long since he had seen your face in person and no matter how selfish he was feeling, Jihoon couldn’t make himself feel guilty about it anymore. You were his. 

Using the key you had made for him, Jihoon unlocked your door and dropped his things on the side table before meeting your eyes from the couch, feeling relief wash over him. You were like a breath of fresh air. 

“Hey, honey…”

Only when Jihoon speaks will your tears finally fall. You close your eyes and bring your hands up to cover your face, not wanting him to see you upset but he is the one who has seen you that way the most lately. Arms wrap around you and Jihoon kisses the side of your head as he whispers, It’s okay, only to feel you shake in his embrace. He isn’t sure what you are upset about, but it doesn’t actually matter. All that matters is that he’s going to make it better. 

“They offered me a full position at the studio.” 

Soonyoung sighed into his words as he looked down at his hand as Aimi slid hers into his. He wasn’t sure if he loved her but she felt nice. At least sometimes she did. Other times, she felt like guilt and regret, but today she felt like a friend and a lover. 

“Are you gonna take it?” 

She could be hopeful. For Aimi, this was starting to turn into love. She loved how Soonyoung looked at her sometimes and how he would hold her after he would fuck her into his mattress. Other times, she was reminded that she wasn’t you. She had no disillusion with who she was and what she was doing, but clearly Soonyoung wasn’t happy and neither were you. 

Shrugging, Soonyoung leans back against his headboard, letting Aimi rest against his chest, her head against his jaw as he traces her fingers like she used to do with you. He missed moments like this with you, but he didn’t know you anymore. The woman he had fallen in love with was a million miles away, not just in distance but in other ways. 

“Maybe…I dunno. I gotta talk to Y/N.” Shifting uncomfortably when he says your name, Soonyoung takes a deep breath and tightens his fingers around Aimi’s. “I go back home in a month. That’s when this job officially ends.” 

Frowning to herself, Aimi looks out at the city skyline and says a silent prayer to herself that maybe Soonyoung will change his mind and stay. Maybe you will tell him to stay, but she keeps it to herself and only nods before meeting his eyes. 

“Okay, well, whatever you decide, you know where I am.” 

Soonyoung can hear the innocence in the girl’s voice and it almost makes him want to laugh. Not at Aimi or at her innocence but more at how, even in the situation, she seems so perfect. Brushing his lips over hers, Soonyoung takes in a breath of her perfume while at the same time letting it wash over his senses and push you further from his mind. She was right; he knew where she was but what he didn’t know was where you were.

You moan Jihoon’s name, only for him to swallow it with his kiss as his hands slide over your hips. Jihoon was enjoying the feeling of you sitting on his cock but each time you clenched around him, he felt like he was going to explode. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” 

Rolling your hips down over Jihoon, you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rests his head back against the headboard with a long, deep groan. You loved riding Jihoon, especially when you were at his place. Here were no pictures of Soonyoung, nothing you could accidentally make eye contact with as you asked for Jihoon to make you forget. 

Jihoon was so good at making you forget. He was even better at making you want something different. Something that you didn’t think you could ever have because you belonged to someone else. Someone else was in love with you and you had made a promise to wait for him.

“Baby, if you don’t slow down, I’m gonna cum first.” 

Shaking your head at Jihoon’s words, you feel his fingers dig into your hips as you whine against his jaw, not wanting to stop. Gritting his teeth, Jihoon groans your name once again before he feels himself unable to hold back anymore. You rest your forehead against his as you watch Jihoon’s mouth drop open and feel the warmth of his cum start to spill into you. 

Catching his breath, Jihoon shakes his head with a wince, feeling you rock your hips over his softening cock. He knew you had a hard day and he didn’t mind letting you get out your frustrations in any way you wanted to but he still liked to make you feel good. 

Lifting his hands, Jihoon shifts you back from him and cups your cheek to make you look at him as he licks his lips. You feel your cheeks instantly start to burn at his attention and his intense gaze, his eyes studying you as his fingers brush sweat from your temple. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

Leaning your head back from him, you shake your head no, making Jihoon let out a disapproving breath. He knew there was a lot on your mind but he could only make you say as much as you were willing to. Running his thumb along your jaw, Jihoon nods, glancing towards his nightstand to see where your phone is plugged in. The light draws his eye but more so Soonyoung’s face, letting you know he is calling you. 

“Soonyoung’s calling…” 

Jihoon watches your eyes move to your phone and the way your body stiffens against his. You could ignore it; you had before in other circumstances but he hadn’t called today and you felt like you were made of glass. 

A few more seconds pass before you slide from Jihoon’s lap and sit on the side of the bed before answering your phone. You swallow hard into your words, feeling Jihoon’s hand resting against your hip like an anchor. 

“Hello?” 

Soonyoung leans against his balcony door, glancing towards his bed, where Aimi sighs in her sleep as you finally answer your phone. You didn’t sound overjoyed to hear from him, but that was his usual greeting—it still hurt. 

“Hey, baby. I just…” 

You listen as Soonyoung scoffs into a sad laugh as you furrow your brows, trying to figure out how you are supposed to feel or respond. Shaking your head, you start to speak when he continues. 

“Just—uh, I wanted to check in. Didn’t talk to you much today or yesterday. I mean, fuck, let’s be honest, we haven’t talked much since I got back.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You could count the number of phone calls on two hands over the span of the last month and the text messages were not much better. Most were either one of you saying you were thinking of the other or checking in, but every time it felt like keeping up appearances. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. I can try to do better if you want. I’ve just been busy, Soonyoung.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung bites at his lip when you try to apologize and come up with an excuse without actually giving any real excuse. He knew he wasn’t any better but once again, it still hurt. 

“No, it’s fine. I get it. I’m busy, too. Always fucking busy, right? That’s us…” 

Tears sting your eyes, making your vision blurry as you hear the hurt in Soonyoung’s voice. Closing your eyes, the tears fall over your cheeks, only for you to try to sniff them back as quietly as possible. Hearing your tears, Jihoon sits up, moving closer to you, trying to pull you back towards him, only for you to shake your head. 

When Soonyoung hears you crying, his own tears finally fall. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to wipe at his cheek with a groan before sniffing back the tears and pushing off the wall. 

“But I’ll be home in a month, right? So we can just see what happens. Right, Y/N?”

You can hear the hope in his voice layered with all that sorrow and it only serves to break your heart more as you shake your head and shrug. Licking the salty tears from your lips, you lift your arm to wipe away your own tears before making yourself calm down. 

“Yeah, a month, Soonie.” 

The name Soonie makes Soonyoung close his eyes and drop his head. It used to make him smile when you’d call him the cute name and tell him how much you loved him but now it feels like his heart is breaking. 

“Okay…goodnight, baby.”

Leaning your head back, you take a breath, letting it out as you hear the finality in Soonyoung’s words. The tone of his voice makes you wonder how hard he will try to stay in touch before he shows up back at home. 

“Night. I love—” 

Hearing the phone disconnect before you finish your sentence tells you everything you need to know.

Jihoon couldn’t help but watch the days tick by. Never in his life could he remember a month going by as quickly as this one seemed to. He wanted to hold on to each and every minute he had left with this little life he had made up with you but every single day passing was a reminder that it was ending. 

He wondered, selfishly, if he just told you how he felt if you’d tell Soonyoung what was happening and ask him not to come home. But then he’d be hit with guilt. That never stopped his feelings or the urge to tell you how much he cared about you. 

Holding you in his arms, your arm draped over his stomach as you traced some design made up in your head on his forearm, Jihoon watched you under the moonlight. There was less than a week left before Soonyoung would be back, laying where he was now. The thought of it made his stomach twist and his heart feel like it was breaking. 

“Y/N, honey…” 

You smile softly at the pet name, your lips pulling up against Jihoon’s skin, before you glance up at him, seeing questions in his eyes. That look had been there for a while now but it was as if he were afraid to say anything, afraid you’d run away. Maybe now was the time, before there was no time left. 

“What…well—what happens when Soonyoung gets home?” 

Your smile fades at Jihoon’s question because that wasn’t what you thought he was going to ask. You weren’t sure what he was going to ask but you hadn’t expected it to be about Soonyoung. Swallowing hard, you lay your head back down and look out your window towards the sky as if some sort of answer lies in the stars but nothing helps. 

“I–Jihoon…I don’t know. I guess things just…” 

Lifting your hand from his arm, you gesture into the air, trying to express your words as Jihoon’s eyes follow them, but it only serves to confuse him and make his heart beat faster. Shaking his head, Jihoon shifts under you, making you sit up as he does. You tilt your head with a whine, feeling his hands on either side of your cheeks as his eyes search for yours. 

“Guess things, what? Go back to how they were. Seriously, Y/N? Is that what you fucking want?” 

Closing your eyes, you feel tears welling up in your eyes at the questions leaving Jihoon’s mouth. You knew what you wanted the answers to be but life wasn’t always that simple. Holding your face still but gently, Jihoon swallows back his emotion with a curse under his breath as he watches your tears stream down your cheeks. 

“Baby...come on. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you still love him. I mean, fuck, look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me!” 

Lifting your hands, you hold Jihoon’s wrists as you keep your eyes shut tightly to try to save yourself from hurting him or lying. When Jihoon whines your name, tears are evident in his voice. You just shake your head and finally meet his eyes. 

“It’s not that simple, Jihoon! Fuck! I wish it was! I want it to be, but god, it’s just not!” 

Dropping his hands into your lap, Jihoon blinks tears from his eyes as he nods, understanding what you are trying to say. You watch as he turns his head away from you and furrows his brows before taking his hands from you and sliding off the bed. Your heart tightens in your chest as you reach for his hand, only for Jihoon to move it from your reach. 

“I’m gonna head home.” 

You shake your head, moving to your knees on the bed, a whine of Jihoon’s name on your lips when he turns back towards you to take your face back in his hands. Leaning to rest his forehead against yours, Jihoon sniffs back his tears as you cling to his forearms and whisper that you don’t want him to go. 

“I have to, honey. Things go back to how they were, right?” 

Kissing you softly, Jihoon only lingers for a moment before he presses his lips to your forehead and leaves you watching him from your bed, tears streaming down your face. You listen to the sound of your front door opening and closing before emotion ripples through your body and you find you can’t hold yourself upright anymore. 

There was heartache when it came to Soonyoung but this felt worse. Now the walls that had built up around you were shattering around you and there was no safety left from the storm. You knew you had created the storm—though you hadn’t created it alone—it was yours to name and it was yours to weather. 

You had forgotten how little Soonyoung had taken with him to Tokyo when he had left a year ago. You listened to the sound of water running as Soonyoung took his shower just down the hall from where you stood, unpacking his suitcase, bit by bit. 

There are so many memories attached to items and then there are so many new things that you don’t recognize at all. For the few hours that Soonyoung had been home, the conversation had been light. There had been discussion about what you had planned for dinner and how his flight had gone.

“Y/N…uh babe…” 

Soonyoung’s voice pulls you back to the present as you glance over your shoulder to look at him, his towel around his waist, a look of confusion on his face as he moves further into the room. Swallowing hard, he laughs awkwardly before gesturing to his suitcase on the bed. 

“I can do that. You don't... just leave my shit alone.” 

Gently moving your hands from one of his shirts, Soonyoung pulls the suitcase closer to him. Taking a step back, you scoff at your boyfriend before shaking your head and running your hand over your hair. You could feel the tension thickening in the air even as you turned away, leaving him in the bedroom alone with his shit. 

Soonyoung hadn’t meant to upset you, but he wasn’t used to you being in his space anymore. He was used to you going through his things anymore. Groaning under his breath as he listens to the sound of you opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen louder than necessary, Soonyoung works to get dressed before staring at his suitcases, trying to decide where to start. 

The idea was simple, the task seemed impossible. Put the clothes away and live like he had never left. But that wasn’t going to be so easy in a place where he didn’t feel like he belonged anymore. 

You weren’t looking for things to annoy you about Soonyoung; however, it seemed that everything did now that he was home. You were reminded that he frequently forgot to put down the toilet seat and that he didn’t always put the lid back on the toothpaste. So as you sat on the couch near him after a silent dinner, he could feel the chill in the air, making him finally pause the unwatched movie on the TV. 

“I was watching that.” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung turns to look at you, reaching for your hand, only to feel you start to pull away. He had expected it, but it still hurt. He was inches from you and he still felt like he was a world away. 

“You weren’t, Y/N. You have been pissed off at me since I got out of the shower.” 

Shrugging, you let Soonyoung run his thumb along your palm as he tries to calm you down, but all you can think about is how much you miss Jihoon and how it’s been days since he’s answered your texts. You can just feel how much your heart is in your throat because you can’t have him where Soonyoung is right now. 

“No…I–” 

“Just stop! I–fuck, Y/N! I’m home and it’s the same. I could be across the world and we’d be doing the same shit. So, when do we just stop? I can’t do this anymore. You–dammit…” 

You stop talking as Soonyoung yells at you, his hand dropping yours as he leans back to run his hand over his face. You watch as tears collect in his eyes, all the emotion that he has been holding back rushing to the surface as he thinks about what he is doing and what it is going to mean. Gesturing towards you, Soonyoung feels like panicking and taking back his words before he even says them, but he already knows it’s too late. 

“I fucked up. I…I–I slept with someone else, Y/N and I—” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung watches as your brows furrow and the tears that had been collecting in your eyes fall down over your cheeks. Lowering his head, he reaches back out for your hand, taking it into his before meeting your eyes and taking a breath before speaking. 

“I’m sorry —” 

“I don’t think that I love you anymore, Soonyoung.” 

Your words cut off his, making Soonyoung stop suddenly. Perhaps he knew that you didn’t love him anymore but hearing it out loud felt like a bomb going off in his chest. You feel his hands tremble around yours as he lets out a shaky breath and nods, trying to form the right words only to start and stop making you speak up first. 

“I slept with Jihoon. I–I’m in love with Jihoon. I’m sorry…” 

Letting go of your hand, Soonyoung rubs his hand over his mouth when you confess what you have done to him. He knew the two of you had gotten close, and now knowing he wasn’t so crazy for being suspicious made Soonyoung’s heart drop into his stomach. 

“What the fuck, Y/N…” 

It’s you that reach out for Soonyoung’s hand, only for him to pull them away harshly, his eyes meeting yours with disdain before they soften slightly. He knew he was being hypocritical. He had done exactly what you had done but it felt worse because it was Jihoon. It felt personal because it was his best friend and his girlfriend. 

“I thought...fuck, I don't know what I fucking thought. That I’d tell you what a fuck up I was, and you and I would start over.” Sighing into a groan, Soonyoung leans his head forward, feeling you run your hand over his cheek as he continues. “We both fucked up, Y/N. Real bad…” 

Looking up to try to stop more tears, you only feel more fall and drip along your neck as you nod along with Soonyoung’s words. The truth was painful, but it was better than the lies that you had used to build up some fake security around yourself to hide from the pain. 

“We just…we fell out of love, Soonyoung.” 

Sitting in silence, seconds turn to minutes and minutes turn to an hour before Soonyoung finally stands up and draws your attention with him. You watch as the man shrugs and wipes his tears from his cheeks before he holds out his hands as if laying out everything on the table. 

“I was offered the job at the studio as a full-time position. I had told them I was going to think about it… but I–I’m gonna take it, Y/N.” 

You can only nod as Soonyoung lets out a breath before shaking his head as if that’s all he has left to say and walks from the room, leaving you alone on the couch. The emotions you find are like waves in moments of extreme change. You are washed over with relief from telling the truth and then pushed back with pain from the end of a relationship, only to be washed over with the feeling of hope.

It was raining the morning that Soonyoung left for the airport and you were left with an extra set of keys. You had spent time walking around the rooms, picking up the last bits of your relationship. It seemed that with each picture you collected or each stuffed animal you put away, the rain would fall harder along with your tears, making you only think of one person. 

Jihoon.

He didn’t know what had happened and you knew you had put him through enough. Just the thought of him as you moved into the kitchen, seeing the picture of the two of you at the farmer’s market, was enough to break your resolve and cause you to find yourself less than an hour later at his door, shivering from the rain. 

The storm had only gotten worse throughout the day so hearing his doorbell and your voice calling his name from his door made Jihoon’s heart drop to his stomach. A list of reasons you could be at his door came to his mind as he made his way to you. Soonyoung had been in an accident, you had been hurt, something terrible had happened, or maybe just—no, you couldn’t be there for him. 

Opening his door, Jihoon’s breath is taken away by seeing you after so many days, your hair and clothes soaked as you shiver from the rain. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you in and looked you over for any signs of injury but all he could find were your tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. 

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why…why didn’t you grab a coat or something? You’re gonna get sick…” 

Shaking your head, you just smile, wrapping your arms around Jihoon’s neck, pulling him close to you, and making him take in a deep breath as you suddenly hug him. He could feel his clothes becoming instantly soaked, but he couldn’t find any reason to care as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you clung to him. 

“I’m so sorry, Jihoon. I’m so stupid. I love you so much.” 

Confusion is what hits Jihoon first when you tell him that you love him. He thinks he is hearing things but you say it again and Jihoon holds you even tighter before letting out a shaky breath. 

“I love you too. Tell me what’s going on, honey.” 

Letting Jihoon finally move away from you so he can look at your face once again, you lean into his touch as you recount the past couple of days. You explain the fight with Soonyoung and the confessions. Wincing at the idea of Soonyoung’s pain, Jihoon’s brows furrow as he runs his hand along your cheek before resting his forehead against yours. 

“He’s right, we did this all fucking wrong, baby. I hate that it happened like this, but... I don’t regret it. I can’t…”

Nodding along with Jihoon, you grab at his shirt, pulling him back close to you as you tell him you love him again and claim your first kiss in days from him. Jihoon’s brows furrow deeply, feeling your lips on his, making him want more after missing you so much. 

With a small grunt on your lips, Jihoon tugs you close and lifts you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so he can carry you down the hall towards his bedroom. Hearing you whine into the kiss, he smiles and shakes his head, only to nip at your lips when he turns into the bathroom and places you on the counter. 

“Stay right here…” 

Jihoon smirks to himself upon hearing you whisper his name, your fingers clinging to his shirt even as he pulls away from you to lean into the shower, turning it on. You watch as steam starts to fill the room and as Jihoon tugs his shirt over his head before kicking his sweatpants off, leaving him bare in front of you. There was something different about seeing him now, his body on display for you as his blonde hair started to fall from its low bun. You knew he was yours and he was seeing you as his. 

“Gotta get you outta those wet clothes, honey. You are gonna get sick; I don’t want that.” 

Biting at your lip, you lift your arms as Jihoon tugs at your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You close your eyes, leaning your head back and relishing the feeling of his soft lips pressing to the swell of your breasts over your bra as his fingers work the clasp loose. 

“Mm, not gonna get sick, Hoonie. Oh, fuck…” 

You whine out a moan, leaning back against the mirror, when Jihoon’s mouth wraps around your nipple, your bra falling to the floor. Smiling against your skin, Jihoon glances up even at such a close distance to watch your mouth fall open in a moan of his name as he uses his free hand to roll the other hardening bud between his index finger and thumb. 

With a soft popping sound, Jihoon lets go of your breasts, moving from one to the other, letting you squirm on the counter with him between your thighs. Sliding your fingers over his arms and the other hand through his hair, you arch your chest towards Jihoon’s mouth as you mutter a quiet plea for more, telling him how much you missed him. 

“Yeah? Did you miss me? How much?” 

Fingers push into the top of your pants as you lift your hips, letting Jihoon work them down your legs. You try to articulate your words to let Jihoon know how much you missed him, but just incoherently mutters his name and please fall from your lips, making him smirk as his hands push your thighs apart, letting him see how wet you have gotten just from his teasing. 

“Shit…You are so pretty. How am I gonna let you go home?” 

Shaking your head, you meet Jihoon’s eyes as he moves down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter, pulling you to the edge. The warmth of his tongue running from your entrance to your clit sends a shockwave through your body. Your skin erupts with chill bumps and your toes point as you try to lift your hips from the counter. 

Pushing your hips down with one arm, Jihoon groans to your taste as if committing it to memory just in case something were to happen again and he were to not get you back into his bed. Your fingers dig into his hair, feeling Jihoon’s mouth wrap around your clit, only for him to lap his tongue around the bundle of nerves, making your thighs shake. 

“Don’t wanna…ah! Don’t wanna go home without you, Jihoon. Fuck!” 

Your words almost cause Jihoon to pull back from what he is doing, but your hand keeps his head between your legs as your orgasm rips through you and your cum begins to drip on to his waiting tongue. Groaning at your taste, Jihoon uses his lips to pull at your soft folds, listening to the sounds of your whines as he overstimulates you until you start to close your thighs around his head. Only then does he smile against your pussy, placing one last kiss on your wet folds before standing back up to claim your lips, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. 

Your words hadn’t gone by without him noticing, but Jihoon still had much on his mind and wanted in you. Feeling you gasp on his lips, Jihoon picks you up once more and walks with you into his shower, letting the door close behind him. You sigh against his lips as he puts you up against the tile wall, letting the warm water rain down over the both of you.

Smiling against your lips, Jihoon slides his hands along your legs, letting you stand on one, keeping the other at his hip as he speaks between kisses. You can only furrow your brows and let out a moan, feeling his cock slide into you slowly. The stretch is welcomed and intense as Jihoon pins you against the shower wall. 

“You don’t want to go home without me?” 

Shaking your head, you gasp, feeling Jihoon bottom out inside of you. Fingers scratch along the back of your leg towards your knee as Jihoon moves his kisses to your jaw and then your neck, leaving bites and marks on his way to your ear as you moan his name at your answer. 

“Uh huh… miss you. Please, oh fuck… don’t stop.” 

With your earlobe between his lips, Jihoon smiles, feeling you clench down on his cock when he thrusts into you hard and deep. He wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to feel every bit of you around him and he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him as if he were made for you. Jihoon wanted to fill you full of him in every single way, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud to you in the moment, as his hand moved over your stomach, gently pushing down over your lower abdomen. 

“I’m not gonna stop, baby… fuck…I wanna be this deep in you all the fucking time.”

Jihoon had dirty talk with you before, especially when you had asked him to be rough with you, but this was different. You could feel how deep he was inside of you and you could almost feel how true his words were. You wanted as much as he did. Laying your hand over his, you gasp as Jihoon’s eyes meet yours with a hard thrust, sending you over the edge once again. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum for me, honey.” 

Watching you fall apart for him was almost better than anything Jihoon could physically experience until your walls clenched around him like a vice. Your hips roll towards him and Jihoon is a goner. Any intention he had to hold back his own climax is gone as he groans your name and bites at your lips, pushing his cum into you with each thrust. 

By the time you and Jihoon catch your breath, the water starts to go cold. Smiling on your lips, Jihoon slides his tongue against yours for one more deep kiss that makes your mind go blank before he has you on your own two feet once again. 

You rely on him to keep you upright as he laughs when you start to complain about the cold water as he finishes cleaning between your legs. Jihoon just looks at you with love and wonder as he helps you out of the shower and wraps a towel around you, knowing you are his. 

When you finally wake up in Jihoon’s bed a few hours later, you are happy to find him beside you, his arm under your head, as the moon shines through his window. Turning towards him, you can’t help the urge to run your fingers over his cheek and nose, making Jihoon flinch at your touch and open his eyes slowly to find you looking at him. 

“Mm, why aren’t you still asleep, honey?” 

Sliding closer to Jihoon, you let him hold you in his arms and press his lips to your forehead. The guilt that got you here washed away with the rain of the storm that you had created. He had weathered it with you and kept you safe even when you felt like you were drowning. 

“Was just missing you. I love you, Jihoon.” 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon shakes his head and sighs tiredly as you kiss his jaw. He was never going to get tired of hearing that.

“I love you too, honey.” 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[cupcakeinat0r]

A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

In celebration of 1k followers, I give you Pt.5 <3

Enjoy! - Cupcake

Since that day you kissed Miguel on the cheek, the dynamic of y’all’s relationship had totally changed, but not drastically. Miguel was back to acting soft towards you, greeting you upon your somewhat late arrivals, getting you little gifts that reminded him of you, and the subtle exchange of glances in class.

Professor O’Hara was a little handsy during your tutoring sessions before, but now he was even more so, your little peck on his cheek was all the encouragement he needed. For sure, his job was on the line since anyone could’ve walked in and seen the two of you like this, but it was worth the risk. Just as long as you both acted this way in his office, the coast was clear.

The head messages had doubled, footsies was played underneath his desk, and he’d even find any excuse to have his hand on yours while you both worked independently, sitting in peaceful silence with each other. You found it hard to complete the research questions when his thumb kept caressing your knuckles, yet, you never protested. His flirt game was rusty, his advances limited to innocent touching and praise, but nonetheless, it was adorable to you the way he tried.

After that day in his office, tutoring sessions became less about tutoring and more just about being in each other’s company. Instead of spending an hour practicing formulas, you both would mingle while organizing the lecture hall or filing research papers. Anything to help Prof. O’Hara, or rather Miguel, since y’all are officially on a first-name basis.

A new development was when you started staying after to help him grade papers. The two of you would use this time to talk one-on-one more, no one there to interrupt. Miguel was just as handsy during this time, too. As mentioned before, he’d find any excuse to touch you, and in the most innocent ways. For example, if he saw a strand of your hair falling on your face while you were grading a paper, he’d simply tuck it behind your ear for you, or when the necklace he got you was crooked or facing the wrong side, he’d gently fix it for you while you spoke to him about one of your current interests, following along with low hums and ‘mhm’s. It’d make you blush and stutter mid-sentence, inflating his otherwise small ego.

Miguel wasn’t a very vocal person, you knew that, but you can see by his actions that he really really liked you. You continued to show your appreciation by leaving treats on his desk, keeping note that his favorite was black coffee and a quesito from the bakery he showed you on campus. A pastry not too sweet, and goes perfectly with a cup of cafécito.

But you were just too sweet and Miguel completely fell for it. He saw how eager you were to help other people in the class, and seeing how willing you were to stay with him to help him with anything you could. He admired that. It also confused him for so long because how has no one swept you off your feet? You were literally perfect? Certainly, people have tried, there’s no way he would believe that no one has. It’s apparent now that the both of you share feelings that are beyond platonic, it’s just a matter of time before someone makes the next move. Given the circumstances, for now, Miguel is taking things microscopically slow with you. He doesn’t wanna scare you off. The last thing he wants is to ruin his chance with you.

His feelings for you were growing, which slightly terrified him given that you are still, in fact, his student, no matter how grown you were. He couldn’t help it. His dreams about you were turning less lustful and more wholesome. When he sleeps, he would see himself coming home to you, cooking with you, reading books next to each other, or even cleaning with you. Just mundane day-to-day tasks, only they’re with you. Maybe for now, they’ll just stay in his dreams. Maybe.

<3

The lecture had just finished and you sent your new best friend, the transfer, away with a European farewell, kissing both of his cheeks. Without you knowing, Miguel watches on with an unamused smirk, remembering how he mistook your relationship with the transfer as a romantic one.

Before leaving the lecture hall, you strut towards Miguel to give him your now-routinely kiss goodbye (on the cheek, of course…). As you walk, you see that he’s crouched over his computer, tired eyes glossing over the screen. The fatigue of finals season is beginning to show on him, and it was a pitiful sight that made you purse your lips. Although it made you sad, you couldn’t help but let a small puff of air out your nose with how his glasses sat low on his nose. He never bothered to fix them, so you were the one who’d fix them oftentimes, and every time, he’d give you a small, “gracias, mama.”

You set down your bag, the thud of it hitting the floor finally stealing Miguel’s attention away from the blue-lit screen. He looks you up and down over his lenses, the small, fine lines of his face showing his age and you loved ittt.

“Sweetheart, as much as I love it when you stay and help, I’d be happier knowing you’re at home getting the rest you deserve.” He softly speaks, this version of himself that is so different from the one he presents in front of his class and colleagues.

“You worry too much, Miguel.” You plant yourself next to his chair, leaning down to get a better look at what on the computer has him so worked up. “Jesus, Miguel, no wonder you look sick.” You scroll through what seems like an endless list of students who signed up for office hours. With the amount that registered, Miguel would have to work even outside of his office hours.

From Miguel’s seated position, he has first-class access to your sweet perfume and a million-dollar view of your neck and chest, his mind wandering for a moment.

“Are you listening to me? This is ridiculous, there’s no way you’re cramming this amount of students… is there not another professor who could tutor as well?” the small raise of your voice is enough to bring his attention upward, not that that was any better of a view. Now, he was just looking at your lips, and how your lip plump makes them looks deliciously kissable. He imagined how’d they’d look if they were-

“Miguel O’Hara!” He blinks once or twice, gaining consciousness again, “Excuse me, uh, yeah, no, I’m the only one who can. For this class, I mean.” He rubs one of his eyes, letting out a sigh as he looks at the heavily packed schedule displayed on his desktop. “Anyways, it’s my responsibility. This was in the job description, so I gotta do what I gotta do.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, hands on your hips, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean compromising your own health. There are healthy and efficient ways of doing your job, Mig.”

There’s that nickname he loved. He melted every time you used it, the familiarity of y’all’s relationship shining through the most when you did. He especially loved it when you were upset. He thought it was cute.

“Let me tutor some.” This snaps Miguel back to Earth, but this time, he’s in disbelief. “You’d tutor other students?” This was a rhetorical question, of course, he knew you were serious. He knew how big your heart was. He guessed he was just in disbelief because, once again, he was beguiled by the existence of a literal angel sent to Earth. He can’t believe he’s been blessed by your presence and friendship (?). You were so kind, so intelligent, so put-together, extremely gorgeous… you were utterly perfect.

“If splitting the work meant you got some sort of rest around here, then of course I would! Mig…” You grab the nearest chair and pull it to sit next to him, placing a hand on top of his. His hand relaxes under your touch, “You’ll work yourself to death like this.” You send a warmth onto his hand and up his arm you rub circles on his knuckles, the same way he does it to you.

“You’ve done so much for me, Miguel. Let me repay you, please? Please let me do this?” You bat your eyes, Miguel’s kryptonite.

Miguel turns his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeing the genuinity in your eyes. He gives it a small squeeze before saying, “What did I do to deserve you, hm?” it comes out just above a whisper.

“Plenty, Miguel. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met,” you cock your head to the side, your eyes tracing the muscles of his broad shoulders, counting in your head all the possible knots buried deep in there,” Here, sit back, please.” You say sweetly, standing back up to travel to the back of his seat.

“What’re you up to?” His eyebrows raised, but he eased again when he felt your small hands massaging the crooks of his neck. “Sshhhh, just relax, Mig. It’s ok.”

He furrows his brows feeling the scrumptious pain of knots unfurling and tension melting away, your soft hands kneading his back muscles like readied sour dough. You know you hit a good spot when he accidentally lets out small groans. You’re doing so good that it takes every thing in him to hold back any embarrassing moaning. You can see his fits clench around the arms of his chair. His breath shakes from the sudden touch, but it’s not in protest; just surprise. Astonished that the woman he dreamed of every night was currently giving him a message.

You can see his literal jaw unclench, happy to see him so relaxed. “Feel good?” You whisper in a sugary tone, Miguel nodding with his lips parted. He lets out a small noise of approval, urging you to keep going. With his eyes closed, you were able to closely examine all the sharp features that make up his beautiful, sculpted face. He was simply gorgeous. Slowly, his hands relax, signifying that he’s becoming comfortable with this, welcoming your soothing touch.

“S’good, mama… s’good…” he speaks under his breath as you knead out the stubborn knots on the stiff tissue of neck. Once you feel like you’ve ridden all the points of tension there, you slowly work your toward his clavicle. He lets you unbutton the first three buttons of his polo sweater. With your whole hands, you apply pressure there, offering weighted comfort to the area. He takes a deep breath and exhales with an open mouth, as if releasing all the tension and stress.

Then you rub up and down slowly, the sensation of his chest hair tempting you to venture deeper down his thick torso. Due to the immense relaxation, Miguel’s head begins to fall back onto your stomach, so you step closer to give him extra support.

He hums when he feels both of your hands cup his face. You then remove his glasses so you can work on his temples. His eyes are still closed, but you can see his lips slightly curl, which makes you smile. You wonder what he’s thinking about as you give his scalp a good rake.

Miguel is currently thinking about where he should get down on one knee for you. He’s thinking about what color you’d possibly want the cabinets to be in your shared home. He’s thinking about if y’all’s child will be as nerdy as him or as fashionable as you. Either way, he’d be the happiest man in the world. He’s on cloud nine as far as he’s concerned. He couldn’t remember the last time he relaxed like this. This train of thought is stopped by the sensation of your lips on his forehead. His heart stops as well.

Then he feels the soft smack of your lips on his left cheek, then his right, leaving behind a trail of lip gloss prints. Anticipating a potential fourth kiss somewhere specific, he slowly opens his eyes, your face inches from his. His head leans all the way back, resting against your stomach still.

It’s silent between the two of you. You lock eyes, completely drowning in the other's gaze. No words were exchanged, but there didn’t need to be.

Seeing no other action fit for this perfect moment, Miguel raises his hand above him to cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You inch down closer, your heart racing. His is, too. His thumb itches to move, brushing along your bottom lip softly.

In what would be considered “Spider-Man” style, you both share a kiss, so sweet, so tender, and so innocent. The perfect first kiss. After a few mind blowing seconds, you’re the first to pull away, but not wanting to stop just yet, Miguel crashes you back into his lips by adding his other hand to your head, extending the moment just a bit longer. You weren’t complaining, though, you’d stay here forever if you could.

Feeling your knees getting weak, you shift all your weight onto Miguel, your hands traveling from the sides of his face back down to his pecs underneath his sweater, his chest in a slow rise and fall rhythm. To deepen the kiss even more, Miguel's hands wrap around the back of your neck. You both come up for air for just a mere second, Miguel breathlessly letting out a weak, “Please.”

knowing what he meant, you smile, going back down again but this time, open-mouthed. Miguel groans into your mouth with the feeling of his tongue on yours, practically treating it like his lollipop. The kiss becomes hungrier with a nibble on your lip by Miguel, pulling on it while you get some needed air. It’s getting sloppy now, and your hands travel lower, meeting the softness of his belly. His breath hitches when he feels them there, half-expecting you to be revolted in any way, but your hands just sit there. In fact, you start messaging there as well, giving love to his whole body. The feeling of the softness of his body in your hands grants a small moan, loving every piece of him. Your hands drag up and down his whole torso with each wet collision of your lips. Your hands would go as low as the pudge sitting above his belt, all the way to up his knife-like jawline, and back down again, and repeat. It’s like you wanted him to know you worshipped his body, and Miguel wanted to show some in return.

Using his hands on the back of your head, he tapped you to pull away so that he could take your hand and guide you around his chair, pulling you to straddle his lap. “C’mere…”

Tongues are going down throats, moans are being heard, and hands are becoming desperate. The fingers tugging his hair, his hands squeezing the globes of your ass, him desperately lifting his hips to make some friction. It was like horny college kids fucking for the first time…. or at least maybe one of y’all felt that way. The other was just that. A horny college student.

There was no stopping either of you, except maybe for the knocking at the lecture hall door.

Both your heads snapped toward the thankfully semi-transparent, iced door. You scramble to get off Miguel’s lap, Miguel wiping your lip gloss off his face. You go to button his sweater and fix his hair as he calls out, “Just a moment.” You give him his glasses when you hear the voice of the student speaking about a tutoring session with Miguel through the door.

Miguel thinks he’ll go to the door, but he feels you grab his hand. “Hey,” you pull him in for one last peck, “I’ll take this one, mkay?” You smile up at him, a very dazed Miguel looking back at you. As far as he’s concerned, he’s floating right now.

“Anyways, it seems like someone,” you look down, motioning to the prominent bulge in his pants, “needs a moment to calm down.” You chuckle, practically gliding to the door as Miguel looks down at his excitement, wide-eyed and making his own way into his private office to… read about DNA Polymerase Replacement or something.

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my mastlist, bae!

A/n: I just wanted to thank you guys for 1k followers as well as all the appreciation on this lil story of mine<3 y’all so sweet n cewt, and it’s so much fun writing this fic n just writing in general! Ty for letting my creative juices fuel ur delulu <3 I also hope that this hot, wet, fat kiss made up for all the edging I’ve done, if not, sorry <3 Next chapter tho………….. but chu gotta stay tuned, yall hear meeeeee????

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson  @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow  @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @ce3stvu @mintssanctuary @migueloharasoulmate @veyveys @theanbitchless @nebulositycloud @jh7ley @gothicteddybearhugs

[writingwithfolklore]

How to Hold Yourself Accountable as a Professional Writer

              Okay maybe you’re not self-employed or professional yet and writing definitely isn’t bringing in the big bucks, but you’d like it to some day, and you’re working right now on making that a reality. This post is for you, because the best time to practice getting into a healthy writing habit and holding yourself accountable to writing for that future where it’s your full time gig is now—before it’s essential to do so.

1. It will never be easy

It’s easy to think that maintaining a schedule or habit for writing would be easy if only it was your full-time gig and all you needed to do. While it might be easier than trying to cram in writing between classes or jobs, it will never be easy. You’re always going to have multiple things going on, there’s always going to be something you could be or need to be doing other than writing. Developing good habits right now, when it is really hard, is going to set you up far better than just waiting for it to get easy before you fully commit to it.

2. Set a schedule that actually works for you

I did a whole post on making a writing schedule you can actually manage and maintain here:

But the TL;DR is that in order to keep to a schedule, you have to make sure it’s attainable. Fit when you write around your other life schedule. For example, if you’re really not a morning person, planning on waking up at 5am every morning to write for a couple hours is probably not something you’ll be able to maintain. But setting aside an hour before bed may be more manageable for you.

3. Form a habit

To train your brain to make your writing schedule a habit you’ll actually stick to, you should make it into a routine. Similar to how you have a bedtime routine that sets you up to feel sleepy at night, a routine that sets you up for writing will make it harder to turn away from your manuscript, and help inspire a productive writing block.

              You can create a writing playlist with songs that inspire your project you listen to whenever you begin writing, make a tea or other drink to sip on while you write, grab a snack, share your schedule with a writing buddy and write together, put together a document of inspiring quotes, photos, or other muses you can read, or really anything that gets you into the writing mood. By following this routine every time you set up to write, you’ll train your brain to get into a mindset that will make it easier to stick to your writing block.

4. Reward yourself

Brains love doing things for a reward. Maybe after a productive writing block you can spend some time doing something else you love, like watching an episode of your favourite show, lighting a candle, taking a bath, or having a glass of wine, I don’t know, anything that would give your brain the happy juice in response to your good work.

5. Set deadlines and goals

Writing consistently is basically the majority of the battle. I don’t typically worry about word count, but I do know that it can be helpful for others to set wordcount goals and deadlines to ensure productivity. If that sounds like you, make sure your goals are actionable while also being attainable. “Finish novel” isn’t a great goal, but “write 2000 words per week for three months” could be helpful if you know that 2000 words is attainable for you.

              Same as before, you can also set rewards for when you reach your goals. I have a big tattoo upcoming if I complete my goal for the year.

              The last tip I have for this point is to try to find an accountabili-buddy to hold you to your goals and deadlines if you think that would be helpful for you. As a professional writer, you may be held accountable by an editor or agent, so practicing through asking a buddy to help you set deadlines and deliverables will help prepare you for writing towards a date.

The TL;DR is find out what works for you and practice doing it consistently! Anything else I missed?

[silverflqmes]

agszc and the WAY THEY SAY I LOVE YOU CAUSE I'M STILL SCREAMING OVER CLOUD'S DATING HCS YOU MADE SNSKDJKD

໒⦂ ( 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ) 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

notes. you might be confused with the use of parenthesis but it’s exactly what you think.. not all of them ACTUALLY say those words.. read and see🫡

genre. fluff + angst ( sephiroth’s )

for @melukonova <3

ft. sephiroth, cloud strife, zack fair, genesis rhapsodos, angeal hewley

disclaimer. ok, poetry IS NOT my strong suit, from time to time i experiment with it but i am not the best at it so keep criticism tame please..

gender neutral! reader.

➫ 𝓢𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ sephiroth’s confession would be something that requires patience. he doesn’t have much experience with love, as he wasn’t exposed to it much throughout his life.

⌗ it doesn’t mean he’s incapable of feeling it, rather, it’s a matter of him truly realizing those feelings he has and how deep they run. now the way those words come out.. would likely be influenced by heightened emotions.

a beat of silence passed before the the silver haired hero closed the door, turning to face you with an expression you weren’t certain his features were even capable of making. “what were you thinking??”

he was distressed, brows knitted together as you watched his chest rise and fall unevenly, each breath more irregular than the last. you assumed it was anxiety — something you’d never associated with sephiroth.. until now, that was. “i was doing my job, an injury or few is unavoidable at times, you know that.” came your mumble, feeling your own brows furrow.

of course he knew that, the top hero knew that better than anyone.. but this. “there are other ways to get things done, what you did today was completely reckless — as though you had no care whatsoever for your life.” he argued, moonlight bangs swishing from right to left when his head shook. “you could have died!”

now it was your turn to get frustrated as you stood up from your place despite your aching muscles, walking up to his broad frame. “and that’s suddenly an issue now? our line of work demands for us to risk our lives everyday no matter the mission! we both knew this going into our relationship, so why are you suddenly so worked up over this??” you matched his tone, not fond of the approach he’d taken in addressing you.

“because i nearly lost you!” he shouted, overcome with emotions so powerful, he couldn’t even stop the onyx, gloved hands that flew to your shoulders, clinging desperately to something.. something even he didn’t know of.

his breath stuttered as he lowered his head, trembling in his place. “i can’t.. i-i can’t have you leave me, too…” the first class SOLDIER whispered in a voice so broken, so defeated, you had to remind yourself that behind this towering, imposing powerhouse.. was a human being, with feelings of his own, no matter how well he hid them. a human that knew loss, and an unwelcomed amount of it.. and feared more of it.

unsure of what to do, you pulled him down into a hug, feeling your anger fade into nothingness as you allowed your eyes to close. “i won’t, not ever.”

➫ 𝓒𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗗 𝓢𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗙𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ he says get help but he’s the one that needs help.. bro just, he can’t say it — he’s too embarrassed and he just doesn’t rlly know how to bring it across properly..

⌗ in the end, he opts for a more subtle method that aerith had once told him about. it required minimal speech on his end, and called for actions to take the reigns — perfectly up his alley.. as long as you got the memo.

“cloud?” you called out in surprise, turning to find a familiar spiky haired blond with an ivory colored flower in between his gloved fingers.

his lightly tanned cheeks were dusted with a tint of pink, seemingly reddening as he held out his hand, averting his gaze. “you said you wanted me to bring you something back from my delivery in sector five.. figured i’d bring something you don’t find everyday here.”

your knowledge of flowers was minimal, as midgar.. wasn’t exactly filled with them. you only rarely saw them from a distance, and on the occasions that you had, normally they were too pricey to purchase.

somehow, however, the owner of strife delivery services seemed to have gotten his hands on one singular flower. when you’d ask for a small souvenir from his travels, it had been a joke, simply you joshing like you normally had with him.. though it appeared this time, that he had taken it seriously.

you cleared your throat, letting out a sheepish laugh. “you didn’t have to do that, but thank you — i’ve.. never received a flower before, much less held one..” you confessed in a soft tone, taking the bloom from his grasp as you brought it close to your face.

even without leaning in to take in its scent, the sweetness greeted your senses as a smile etched itself onto your lips. “aah~ it smells wonderful, what kind of flower is it??”

he rubbed his neck at the question, feeling himself grow more nervous by the second. “it’s um.. it’s called gardenia. aerith’s mom insisted i took one back with me, since they were the newest edition to her garden.. said something about it having a deeper meaning, too.” cloud spoke up, finally lifting his mako-azure eyes to meet yours.

you lowered the flower in your hands, tilting your head. “deeper meaning? i didn’t think flowers were so complex.” you snickered into your free hand before grinning brightly at him. “but, go on. i’m curious!”

the tips of his ears seemed to burn with red as his lips parted before he turned his back to you, folding his arms. “o-on second thought, i forgot..”

“WHAT?? no way, it must be good if you won’t say! come on cloud!” you urged him, moving in front of him to see his face, but all you caught was the faintest smile as he continued to turn away. so cryptic!

➫ 𝓩𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝓕𝗔𝗜𝗥 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ zack uh- as we can tell, he isn’t exactly the ‘think before you speak’ kinda guy — whatever comes out, comes out.. with no regard to how blunt or sudden it might end up sounding.

⌗ now how would that apply to a confession? well, i think he would just say it without even thinking of the impact behind his words. it would just come out naturally, casually.. and you would end up staring like- did he fr just say that??

a sigh left your lips as you turned the page of the newest issue you’d picked up of shinra’s very own magazine, because what didn’t the prestigious electric company have to their name?

meanwhile zack was busying himself with yet another set of squats, clearly antsy. missions had been quiet as of late, mundane even. at the moment, you were both occupying the second class floor, waiting for orders.. but nothing came.

a groan left the nicknamed puppy’s lips as he halted his movements before draping finally himself onto the spot on the couch you hadn’t occupied. “man i bet the firsts are out kicking ass! they really don’t have anything for us to do here??”

you licked your thumb to flip to the next spread, humming. “unless you feel like getting involved with professor hojo’s questionable ass tasks, i’d rather sit here in boredom.” you confessed, missing the grimace on his face since your eyes remained on the passage you had been reading.

“i guess you have a point.. but still.” he pouted, leaning into your face as a means of getting your attention. “can’t we go ask lazard?? he’s gotta have something by now for us, right?!”

a laugh seemed to leave your lips at his complaints as you lifted your eyes at last to meet his zircon ones, a smile stretching across your lips. “and, what? have him tell us no for the fifth time in the last two hours?”

his appendages seemed to part in protest before they jutted out once more. “w-well! for all we know a mission could have popped up on that computer of his right now! with angeal and them gone, they’re bound to ask us! i’m sure of it!” the second class SOLDIER insisted, clenching his fists in determination. “come on, y/n! it beats reading whatever propaganda you’re reading!”

it was partly true, shinra’s magazine went on and on about sephiroth’s feats if it wasn’t already in the daily paper or news. and one look at those puppy eyes had you crumbling. damn him for that effortlessly adorable face..

“fine, we’ll ask one last time.. but if he says no, you owe me a drink from the vending machine since i paid last time!” you huffed out, tossing your copy back on the the coffee table as you stood up with your hands on your hips.

as though sparkles had appeared in his eyes, zack hopped to his feet before engulfing you in a tight hug. “for real?? you’re the best, y/n!! i love you! i love you! i love you!!”

➫ 𝓖𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦 𝓡𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗦 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ ah, the romantic and the one that does too much because everyone else ain’t doing enough ( his words ) — genesis. you can expect a very enigmatic brain scratching confession..

⌗ or in other words, the cheesiest kind of confession that involves poetry, some form of incorporation with loveless, and just some frivolous display of his affections for you in case you don’t pick up on the hints..

“y/n, my dear! won’t you hang back awhile? our work is done for today.. perhaps you’ll indulge me in a piece i worked on, hm?” the redhead spoke up, causing you to pause in your tracks as you blinked over at him.

a piece? “you mean.. poetry?” you inquired for certainty, surprised that he had the spare time to be writing something. “i’m not the best at deciphering metaphors and whatnot.. but i’d be willing to hear what you have.” you smiled, eager to see what he had been working on in his free time.

“not to worry!” he waved you off, pulling out a small notebook from his long coat. “even the foolish and emotionally unintelligent, like our beloved sephiroth could understand!” genesis laughed out, fearless of his friend — or in his eyes, rival — as usual.

you let out a nervous chuckle as you pulled up a chair to hear what he’d prepared, praying that your silver haired friend did not hear.. not that he would care, anyway. just genesis being genesis.. “well um, i’ll do my best to somewhat comprehend what you wrote.” you offered, anyway, placing your hands on your lap as a means of resting them.

the male dressed in crimson took it as a sign to commence, lifting his fist up to clear his throat before holding up his poem. “in a bed of asters, the tears of the goddess.. blossoms a favored one amidst a world or filth and endless disasters — a beauty that wears star formed petals for a bodice..and adorns droplet shaped blades of which its creator once wept.” genesis paused, trailing a finger down to the next line. “one day, a new flower would emerge — tall, scarlet, and proud.. tenderly well kept, and yet.. as sorrowed as a rain cloud.”

you almost wanted to question why, curiosity overtaking you despite the urge to giggle at a few.. choice of words he made. how couldn’t you when it was so reminiscent of the usual reciting he did of his most favorite work of literature.

compelled by your zealousness, you fed into your inquisitiveness. “why was it sorrowed?”

a soft chuckle tumbled past his lips at the awe in your voice as he closed the book with a low hum. “for it was loveless, without its starry accomplice.. that bloomed on a path far away enough to diverge.” he finished gently before sliding a hand to your cheek. “nevertheless, that is but fiction.. as our paths will remain entwined, and my heart shall not bleed with my beloved star around.”

➫ 𝓐𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝓗𝗘𝗪𝗟𝗘𝗬 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ ah, yes, the confession of his love.. yet another unspoken way of proclaiming his feelings for you, although i believe his method may just be a little more meaningful.. but just a little.

⌗ however, what would call for the confession exactly, and the realization of his feelings? personally, i believe it’d have either been something in the heat of the moment — in other words, you being in danger, or perhaps.. an inquiry, in regards to the buster sword glued to his back.

“earlier..” your began, eyeing your lover with a curious gaze. “that was the first i’d ever seen you draw the buster sword.. for the longest time, i convinced myself it was decorative, or something.. but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

the rag in angeal’s hand came to a pause at the question, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “i remember zack asking me that several times before and i still haven’t presented him with a proper answer.” he mused, eyes softening as he gazed upon his weapon. “growing up, my family was not one for riches. we had enough to get by, thankfully, but making money was hard work on my parents — specifically my father.”

a breeze passed through the few strands of hair that frames his face as he gazed upon the sky. “still, he had wanted to gift me something for passing the SOLDIER exam, and had this forged for me.” he smiled gently, closing his eyes. “it took him a very long time to recover financially for his debts in having this buster made, so long that it cost him his very life in the end..” the first class SOLDIER spoke up, allowing his eyes to lower back down to the blade in his hands. “and so, i do my best to avoid bringing any wear, tear or rust upon it.. as it represents not only my dreams and honor, but the efforts and sacrifice for its creation.” he finished steadily, finally meeting your stare. “but for you, i would draw it without a second thought.”

your boyfriend was already impressive to begin with- the most humble and noble person you had come to know.. but this? it had left you in complete awe to know how sentimental he truly was, despite his stoic demeanor. and for him to have used his beloved weapon to shield you from harm — what did that mean? that he.. held you in higher regard than it..?

“you.. you would do that for me?” your inquiry was stupid, as he had done it once already, earlier in fact.. but angeal nodded, regardless, the small smile on his lips expanding, even if it was just a pinch wider.

“if it guarantees your safety.. in a heartbeat.” he answered with little delay, a fondness in his mako tinted eyes — one that he only ever really showed to you.

notes. zack being the only one who actually says i love you verbatim.. meanwhile the others are cryptic and expect you to guess ( cloud.. genesis.. ) or say it without needing to say those three words.. crazy tbh

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[1d1195]

Right Here

Hi, idk if you all know this about me, but I love tropes. ALL of them. All. of. them. So here they all are: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc. (Don't look too close this is Zipper but reveresed)

Other warnings: angst

9.2k+ words

“Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.

She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.

In Year 2, Harry was playing with a few of his friends by the slide. He wasn’t really aware of what was happening but there was a girl in his class playing with a couple of her friends when the screaming started. There was a huge to-do; parents were called, the principal was involved, and the girl that seemed to be at the center of all the drama would not stop glaring at Harry.

But Harry didn’t like girls. He was six. He wanted to hang out with his friends at recess and maybe learn about the shapes and the planets if he had time. So, he didn’t really care that she glared at him. Or that he had to write an apology letter (that his mum told him how to write in his six-year-old scrawl). It was just another day in the life of a Year 2 student. He didn’t even know why he was writing the little note to her. He didn’t know what happened or why he did something wrong.

Year 2 turned to Year 3 and soon Harry was kissing and hugging his mum and sister goodbye as he went off to university. He was studying English Literature and Communications. He wanted to be a book publisher—mainly because he wanted an excuse to read all kinds of books. Moreover, he could read really good books before everyone else did. Eventually, he hoped to open his own publishing company, but he would need a business partner for that.

That was still a long way down the road. For the time being, he would enjoy university: friends, girlfriends, classes, his part time job, and everything in between. His only downfall was listening to his professor who suggested he get a minor in business—especially if he planned on own his own company. Even if he didn’t fully run the business side of things, it was good to have a general idea. Some key words and concepts would be helpful. More so, if the business partner wasn’t someone he trusted.

But Harry was awful with his business classes. The very first one he took was the bane of his existence. He strongly considered never opening his own company, he would just get the other person to handle it. Needless to say, he was recommended for tutoring two weeks into the class.

That’s where he found the glaring girl. Obviously, no longer seven. She was twenty, like Harry. And she was lovely looking. Except for the scowl on her face directed at Harry. Surely, she hadn’t harbored a grudge toward Harry since she was seven?

Oh, but she was. She was curt while she tutored. Everything Harry did was wrong. She managed to correct his mistakes kindly, but he could tell it pained her. There was a lot of sighing and eye-rolling involved. But she was good, he’d give her that.

Harry tried to be friendly, but she clearly wanted no part of it. “I am not here for small talk with you, Harry,” her voice was flat. She didn’t want to talk about the weather, or parties, or anything that wasn’t part of Harry’s class. When she came to help him at the designated time in the library with tears in her eyes, she sat down, took a deep breath, sniffled, and started her help with his homework.

“Hey, we don’t have t’do this now, beautiful. You’re obviously upset—”

“What do you care?” She interrupted.

“Jesus,” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “What is your problem?” She rolled her eyes, tearfully. “Y’can’t seriously still be mad about Year 2.”

She shook her head. “Just...shut it,” she snapped and turned her attention to Harry’s assignment. He sighed, looking at her like she was on the verge of a breakdown but did as she wished. Listening intently to her lesson, Harry felt this pull of how sad he was by her anguish, and he didn’t even know what it was. He kept watching her expressions, judging her tone, in between her explanations. He was worried there was something seriously wrong.

Despite her anger towards him, he didn’t want her to be upset. He worried someone had hurt her or upset her in some way—in a way that he could fix. It didn’t occur to him why he wanted to help her until well after three other classes she tutored him in for his minor over the last two years of university.

He got very little information out of her about anything that didn’t pertain to his classes. He knew she was grumpy in the afternoon and much preferred to tutor in the morning when her mind was fresh. That was when he got a glimpse of her gentler side—for only a second. She liked coffee a lot, she smelled fresh of her shampoo, and her eyes were brighter. She would ask if he had a good weekend or if he had any fun plans. It was the only time she offered up anything to him.

If it was any time past two in the afternoon, she wanted nothing to do with pleasantries or Harry, it seemed. But she was paid to tutor him, and she did it well. Harry never would have made it through his business classes without her. He was forever thankful for her help, even if she didn’t want to be thanked.

*

“Harry, would you like to go to this conference?”

He looked up from his desk where he was reading a riveting historical fiction novel that was passed up the chain to him. Harry thought it would be a NYT bestseller for sure. “Me?” He asked, clearing his throat and putting his pencil down. One thing he hated was marking up people’s hard work in any color pen—but especially red. It felt very secondary school of his coworkers to do it that way. Someone pored over this writing and of course no one expected it to be perfect, not even the author. But there was something so ugly about red ink marking up something that your blood, sweat, and tears went into.

Harry would quit writing if he saw even one smidge of red ink on his work.

Which is why he edited and didn’t publish his own work.

Harry had been a senior editor for four years, now. He loved his job. It was everything he hoped for: he read so many good stories and felt he was still learning so much. He was promoted from junior editor to senior editor after two years. He still hoped to own his own company one day.

“Yeah,” his boss rolled his eyes. “Who else would I send? Someone from the business administration team will attend as well,” he explained.

Harry smiled; he knew the second the title left his mouth exactly who would be attending the conference with him. She was going to hate it. “I would love to go,” Harry nodded excitedly. “But between you and me, I don’t want anyone t’get jealous that m’going. D’you think y’can keep it a secret?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged. Harry loved this office. It was so carefree. When he had his own company, he would want it to be exactly like this. If he could own this one, he would. He liked all of his coworkers and would want to keep them alongside him.

Including the girl from the admin team that constantly glared at him during work parties, meetings, and office breakroom run ins. If she wasn’t there, then it wouldn’t be worth it.

When Harry saw her interact with their coworkers, he couldn’t help but fall more in love with her. She was so utterly beautiful, funny, and of course, absolutely brilliant. There wasn’t a question she didn’t know how to answer. There wasn’t any advice she couldn’t give. She was never condescending and was extremely helpful. Even when Harry needed her help—which was so rare he only recalled it three times in the entire seven years they worked together. She didn’t sigh, didn’t roll her eyes although he was sure she wanted to.

So, nothing made him happier than annoying her to pieces.

He told everyone he had known her since Year 2. Left notes for her on her cute little lunch box in the fridge, would constantly send random items to her office (his favorite was the look on her face when he sent her a bouquet of balloons. It didn’t do anything, but people said Happy Birthday to her all day, and she had to say it wasn’t). He would tell people they were best friends and watch her blush bright red trying to get out of it. There were so many fake secrets he told the person he was near making direct eye contact with her, just to piss her off.

It worked every time.

He worshipped her, honestly. How could he not? She was brilliant and beautiful. The whole package. Even when she was a bit crabby, he thought she was simply the cutest and went on adoring her from afar.

Harry couldn’t imagine how fun a work trip would be with her.

*

She hated flying. It was necessary but she hated it. The space was almost too small. It was stuffy and gross in a lot of ways. The seats were cramped, and it was just awful. She had her headphones in place, a relaxing, quiet playlist, a good book, and her travel pillow around her neck. She was more than ready to begin the flight. The conference was a treat, it was shorter hours than her regular workday and then she could meander the town as much as she pleased. It was going to be a great trip and she had been looking forward to it for the last two weeks.

But then Harry sat right beside her. “Hey beautiful,” he smiled sweetly. She stared at him. This had to be a joke.

“You’re kidding?”

“What?” He smirked impishly stowing his bag beneath the seat in front of him. “Excited t’see me?” She flushed that beautiful shade of red that he loved so much on her cheeks. “Ready for our vacation?” He asked. “Bring a good book?”

The plane was suddenly even smaller. She thought she was going to be sick. A whole five days with Harry. Five. She was going to lose her mind. She closed her eyes as the plane jolted forward. Harry was doing all the things he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Fidgeting with the tray table and the like. She wanted to scream.

How could she possibly get stuck with him?

*

Harry didn’t say much to her throughout the flight. At least not after asking if she was comfortable, which was objectively nice if she couldn’t stand him so much. He grabbed her bag from the bin overhead, made sure she didn’t get lost on her way to baggage claim, and held the door open for her when they reached their Uber. “Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.

She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.

She really wished Harry wasn’t so goddamn hot. It should have been a sin to make someone so alarmingly attractive. Soft brown curls that looked like they were made to slip between her fingers. He had green eyes—how was that even fair? Those dimples made her stomach flip. He was incredibly tall and so fit; she thought about falling at his feet every day she saw him at work and just ending her silly grudge.

But she never forgave him for that day in Year 2. Call her stubborn, call her stupid. She didn’t care. It ruined a huge chunk of her young life and made her miserable.

Four days and twenty-two hours. She could survive.

“Me and the missus need a place t’eat, do y’have any suggestions?” he asked, reaching for her hand like they really were a couple. She yanked it out of his grip. She wanted to kill him. More so because she hated the way her heart took off when he touched her and the idea of being “the missus” was...ugh.

She was worried Harry wouldn’t survive the next four days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

*

They arrived at the hotel and Harry was once more a gentleman, even though she didn’t want him to be. He grabbed her suitcase and sweetly pushed it through the lobby to the front desk. “Hi,” Harry said cheerfully. She wanted to shower, get out of her plane clothes, and get away from Harry. His chipper attitude was making her grumpier than normal. “I have a reservation under Styles,” he explained. “Here for the convention,” he added.

The man behind the desk nodded, smiling pleasantly as he tapped away on his computer. “It says two guests for your name,” he informed him. Her heart dropped to her feet.

“No, it doesn’t,” she murmured, but she knew it was right.

Harry was smiling like an idiot. This was too good to be true for him and his endless bouts of annoying her. “That’s correct,” Harry nodded.

“Are there any other rooms?” She asked. She already knew the answer, but she would kick herself if she didn’t at least check.

“No, I’m afraid we’re really booked with the convention.”

She didn’t dare ask if there were two beds because she already knew that answer too.

“It’ll be fine, lovie, don’t worry,” he promised. Part of her thought he really meant it too, sensing how upset she was. She was so overcome with frustration; she almost didn’t notice the new name he gave her. That it wouldn’t be torture for her to be in the same little space as Harry for the entire five days. Her heart started erratically beating at the thought. It felt like the sides of her brain were caving in like the walls surely would be when they got to the room.

She would lay ground rules. She would go buy a roll of tape and cut the room in half. Harry wasn’t going to ruin her little reprieve from work. He continued to be kind and pulled her bag to their room. “I would like to shower,” she told him as she eyed the single, king-sized bed in the middle of the room, mocking her. He settled the bags on opposite sides of the room. He chose the side closer to the window for her.

“I’ll be right in,” he winked at her.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, which she knew was exactly what he wanted. “What if I don’t want the window side?” She asked instead.

“Well, that I don’t really care, lovie. M’taking closer t’the door in case someone breaks in. Wouldn’t want you t’get hurt.”

She just wanted to annoy him the way he always annoyed her. Maybe make him move the bags around and then move them again which she informed him she did want the window side. But she didn’t expect him to be so nice. Didn’t think he would give a reason that was kind enough to care about her well-being. Even when she was grumpy toward him.

If her cheeks were going to be red the whole week, she was going to lose it. “Don’t come in the bathroom or I’ll murder you,” she rolled her eyes.

“I would never do that,” he rolled his eyes right back at her. “I was jus’ kidding.”

Unfortunately, she believed him. He seemed genuine, as much as she wanted to kill him.

*

The shower helped her relax marginally. At the very least she got the feeling of the plane off her. “I ordered some pizza. Y’like peppers and onions on yours, right?” Harry, knowing exactly what she liked, furthered her agitation.

“Yeah,” she mumbled.

“I’d like t’shower too. D’you think y’can get the pizza when it arrives and actually get mine too?” He smiled at her knowingly; like he thought she might not take his pizza from the delivery guy in protest of the whole situation.

She rolled her eyes but had to hand it to him because it did sound like her. “Yes, Harry.”

“Hey beautiful?” he said softly. She hated that she looked up, answering to his pretty pink lips calling her ‘beautiful.’ She shouldn’t have. First and foremost, she thought he was wrong. Maybe it was because of all the drama of Year 2 but she never had boys of any age fawning over her after the slide-incident. Not the way they ogled and adored her friends. It did a number on her self-esteem. While she tried to put up this front that she didn’t care about whether she was beautiful or not, it was hard to believe someone like Harry would recognize her as even pretty.

Secondly, it made her stomach flip when he said it and she hated that. It was unfair he was pretty and unfair he could make her crazy with just a word. “M’not so bad,” his face looked apologetic—like he felt bad for existing. “I promise, it won’t be that bad this week with me.” She nodded sullenly, ran her brush through her hair. “’Ve left some notes on the table there for the pizza,” he tilted his chin toward it.

“You don’t need to pay for me.”

He smiled. “Course I do, lovie. S’my treat.”

She hated the way she answered to ‘lovie’too.

*

She sat in comfortable silence while she ate her pizza. While eating, she looked at the itinerary on her phone. Made plans in her mind and thought about some of the things she wanted to do during her free time.

“Oh good, m’starving. Smelled it while I was showering.”

She did a double take, her jaw falling open instinctively. She nearly dropped her pizza on her lap and then her phone right after it. Harry was hurrying across the room to get to his pizza. A towel low on his hips showing off glistening, taut muscles. Her heart hammered against her chest. “Jesus,” she whispered to herself looking away.

“Did y’say something, beautiful?” He asked, taking a bite of his pizza. She shook her head. Once more, angry she answered with the word ‘beautiful’.  His hair was dripping, and she followed the little droplets as they slid down his broad shoulders and across his defined pectorals. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to hate him easily. But his pretty tattoos and his gorgeous body were making it so difficult.

“I’m think I’m going to sleep on the floor,” she told him. He frowned around a bite of his pizza. When he finished chewing, he had a bit of grease on each corner of his mouth. She wanted to reach out with a napkin and wipe it away.

Or lick it away, along with the rest of his body.

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he promised. “M’not gonna let y’sleep on the floor, lovie,” he rolled his eyes. “If you’re that uncomfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She couldn’t help but feel bad that her awkwardness, her annoyance for Harry, would have him sleep on the floor. He didn’t truly deserve that. This was a work trip for him as well, after all.

Maybe if he was fully clothed, she would have taken him up on his offer. Accepted him sleeping on the floor in her place. But her modern-woman, intelligent brain that she had spent years cultivating so she was independent, and worked so hard to make sure she didn’t go ga-ga over a man was malfunctioning from travel...and knowing she was stuck with Harry in such close quarters for almost a week.

Plus, Harry had the prettiest stomach she had ever seen on a man.

Her primal brain, the one that seemed to be screaming from between her legs, couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“It’s…fine,” she mumbled focusing on her pizza and phone again.

“Are y’sure, beautiful? I don’t want t’make y’uncomfortable.”

She believed him. He seemed so eager to please her and ease her worries. She nodded. “It’ll be fine,” she was telling herself in hopes it would be true. “But I’m making a pillow wall.”

He smiled around his pizza.

*

“Would y’prefer I sleep with or without a shirt?” He asked. Harry went to use the hotel gym and then took another shower. She used the time to read her book and sit on the balcony while the sun was setting. It wasn’t a picturesque view or anything, but the sky was a bunch of beautiful hues of pink, blue, and orange.

When Harry exited the shower, it was awkwardly silent for a bit. Harry tended to his after shower-care. She was looking at her book but not reading. She yawned, and that was when Harry asked his question. The inquiry felt like a double-edged sword. If she said with a shirt, it might imply she wanted to hide him from her view because she couldn’t help but look at him. If she said no, it would make it seem like she wanted to see him. “Whatever makes you comfortable,” she decided on.

He smirked and pulled his T-shirt off. “‘Fraid you’re not privy t’that sleeping habit, lovie.” She wondered if anyone had ever been murdered with a hotel phone cord. She felt extremely self-conscious about her t-shirt and leggings combo. “Feel free t’do the same, beautiful,” he grinned wickedly at her as he slipped into his side of the bed. She had two pillows under the blankets and two on top. She was certain that even if she had her own room, it wouldn’t be enough distance between them. “What if I want another pillow?” He asked mischievously.

“Go fuck yourself, Harry,” she grumbled.

He frowned. “C’mon, lovie. S’not so bad.” She didn’t say anything in response and turned to her side facing away from him. She scrolled mindlessly on her phone. “D’you want t’watch something together?” He asked.

“No, thank you,” she murmured quietly. “You can though,” she shrugged. “I’ll sleep through most anything.”

He nodded. “Okay...well...good night, beautiful. Sleep well,” he said sweetly.

She didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, she imagined the nice museum she saw online. The picturesque street about a mile away with cute little shops. There was the coffee shop she wanted to go to. All the things that Harry couldn’t ruin with his annoying little remarks.

Or his stupid hot body.

Other than some gentle laughter, she didn’t hear or worry about Harry sleeping less than six inches from her own body. The pillows provided the perfect barrier between them so that she could sleep easily knowing that he wouldn’t bug her.

Only four days until it was over. She could do this.

*

Harry heard her phone drop from her hands to the floor about an hour later. He hurried to her side of the room and made sure her alarm was set, locked her phone, and placed it on her nightstand. He saw the way she seemed to shiver in her sleep. Probably because she was right under the vent. The space between her brows puckered due to her discomfort. He draped the blanket that was at the end of the bed over her. Almost immediately, the skin between her eyebrows smoothed back out. He wanted to kiss her in the very same spot but of course would never do that without her permission.

The movie Harry was playing was funny and he enjoyed it immensely. True to her word, she slept through his laughter and the sound of the movie itself. She was wiggly when she slept. The pillows and blankets balled all around her and Harry wondered how she slept like that each night. It looked nearly painful at times.

Of course, the movie came to an end, and she was still sound asleep when Harry finally turned the TV off and hunkered down into his side of the mattress. He tried not to disturb her pillow wall, but she had managed to throw all of them every which way. He smirked to himself, shaking his head at her.

Harry must have gotten only an hour of sleep under his belt when he woke up to her kicking and mumbling under her breath. The light coming through the window allowed for his eyes to adjust a bit to the darkness against her figure sprawled in the sheets. He shook his head glancing over at her in complete disarray.  Her body was still twisted around the pillows and blankets. Harry was left with just the sheet. He smirked at her.

He threw his arm over his eyes and ignored her fitful movements. But they kept going and going. The mumbling too. He felt bad about whatever she was dreaming about, but he didn’t dare touch her. If she woke up to him touching her, even if it was for comfort, he was certain she would kill him.

Harry was a pretty heavy sleeper himself, so her fussy movements didn’t bother him in the slightest. Whatever she was dreaming about had to be a kick for sure and for that he felt bad.

But then Harry heard small whimpers coming from her and he felt his stomach knot. It felt like he was dying at the mere sound of her discomfort. The anguish he felt coming from her was brutal and he wanted nothing more than to hold her and fix it. “Oh, hey,” he hummed, sitting up against the headboard. He looked her over and thought incurring her wrath would be well worth it if he could stop her from whimpering miserably. “Lovie? Y’okay?” He gently shook her by the shoulder. She seemed to be fighting whatever she was dreaming about, and the blankets were keeping her trapped. Harry grabbed the pillows that were on top of her. Her arms were nearly swaddled against her body with the blanket wrapped around her and pulled up to her neck tightly.

Harry flicked the light on his nightstand so he could get a better look at her.

The poor thing was glistening with sweat around her hairline, tears were leaking from her closed eyes, and that space between her brows was cinched together like she was in pain. “Oh, no,” he murmured and crawled out of his side and came around to her side. “Hey,” he cooed. He crouched in front of her and began tossing the pillows to the floor. He unraveled the blankets from around her. “Lovie,” he murmured. He called her lovie at the start of the evening and he couldn’t stop. He loved to call her beautiful and enjoyed how readily she answer to it. But something about her sweet face just made the word ‘lovie’ roll right off his tongue. It was effortless; like it was the only thing he should call her. Once she was without the swaddle of blankets, and the pillows attacking her, she was practically gasping for air in her sleep. “Lovie, you’re having a bad dream,” he gave her a good shake causing her eyes to flash open. Harry gazed at her in alarm. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to hide from Harry. But it was far too late for that. “Are y’okay, beautiful?”

She ignored him. Her breathing evening out. She turned away from him. “Lovie...”

“Would you stop calling me cute names?” She asked, the exasperation thick in her voice. But she was still distraught. He could tell. He was quiet for a minute letting her work through whatever just happened. “Please don’t tell anyone about this,” she whispered.

He blinked. He felt so sad she believed so little of him. “I would never tell anyone anything ‘bout you—”

“You whisper about me all the time,” she snipped.

His mouth fell open in disbelief. “Lovie, you have t’know I don’t whisper anything ‘bout you. M’telling them how pretty I think y’are and how you’ll get all flustered that m’whispering nothing ‘bout you. They know I adore you and think nothing short of wonderful things ‘bout you. Y’seriously don’t get it do you?” He felt so utterly annoyed by her, himself. He thought she was lovely and yes; she was fun to annoy but he would never say anything about her that hurt her reputation. He was sad she thought he would. It never made sense for her to dislike him so intently. He never really cared and turned it into a joke. But knowing she truly didn’t like him made his heart heavy.

She refused to look at him. It was silent for several beats. Harry stared at the back of her t-shirt, her shoulders trying to find an easy rhythm. He wanted her to explain it. Right now. In the middle of the night when they were stuck in a small hotel room together. “Why did you trap me in the slide?” She whispered.

Of all the things he expected her to say, that was not one of them. “What?” He shook his head.

“In Year 2? You and your friends trapped me in the slide, now I’m embarrassingly claustrophobic. If I have anything covering my face, I have a meltdown. It feels like I can’t breathe. If someone...holds me the wrong way for too long, I get overwhelmed. It’s ruined so many relationships and it’s...” she sniffled, her shoulders staggering a bit at the effort.

He frowned. “Is that why you hate me?” He whispered. She didn’t answer him. “Lovie, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Well, they blamed you.”

He sighed. “So, all this time you’ve hated me, and it wasn’t even my doing?” He asked.

It seemed to appeal to the logical part of her brain. She was still for a moment longer, her breathing evening out. But then she rolled to her other side and stared at Harry. He hated the tears that stained her cheeks. That little crease between her eyebrows. He reached out and pressed his fingers there to smooth it out and she let him. It didn’t even bother him that she hadn’t liked him for so long.

Her lips rolled into her mouth as she thought over the last twenty-something years of their lives. It may not have bothered Harry but now it bothered her. “Why have you liked me even though I’m so...crabby toward you?”

He smiled excitedly. Like he was getting a Christmas present or told he won a raffle. “What isn’t there t’like ‘bout you, beautiful?” His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb gently rubbed at the stain of salt on her cheek. The back of her head was warm with sweat and if it wasn’t so late at night, she would feel more self-conscious.

“You’re a glutton for punishment.”

It was progress though because she didn’t push his hand away from her face. “Can I get back on the bed? I won’t touch you, but I don’t want you t’have the pillows and blankets attack you.”

“You can touch me,” she mumbled.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Oh yeah?” He rose from the floor to head back to his side of the bed.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I hate you.”

“I don’t think y’do, actually,” he said smugly.

“Are you going to annoy me the entire time?”

Harry turned off his bedside lamp and crawled under the sheet. “Probably.”

She sighed; he imagined her pretty eye roll the way she always did. Harry put his arm behind his head, closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. “You really didn’t trap me in there?” She asked.

Harry turned to his side and looked at the shadow outline of her staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to reach out and trace the shape of her profile, follow it down her arm and hold her hand. “Even as a six-year-old, lovie, I couldn’t hurt you. If...I knew...I would have gotten y’out of there so fast,” he promised. “Poor baby,” he murmured and bravely reached out and grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull from him. She let his fingers fit between the spaces of hers, gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know why you were mad,” he shrugged.

“You were really just going to let me hate you for the rest of our life?”

“Hate and love are very close together in the brain,” he said knowingly. “Given y’said the rest of our life,” he smiled excitedly, “I had a feeling y’couldn’t keep it up forever. And I’d wait forever for you, beautiful.” He sounded so arrogant she wanted to hate him just to spite him. But she couldn’t argue with him. It was exhausting hating him. Being in the hotel room with him—especially when he was in a towel—was ruining her grumpy front. Even with sleep still on her brain, she couldn’t help but think about how gentle he was with her and her anxious mind. He was so utterly accommodating and kind to her. He would have slept on the floor if she asked. But she rather enjoyed the feel of his fingers holding hers. “Do you have nightmares a lot?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She shook her head. “Not anymore...Only when I get all twisted like that. I usually sleep better with a weighted blanket to help my anxiety about it. It also keeps me in place, mostly. I’ve had a lot of therapy to help cope with it and the blanket usually helps but obviously y’can’t really travel with a fifteen-pound blanket.”

“Can you snuggle?” He asked.

She blinked at the darkness in front of her. “Can I what?”

“Can you snuggle with someone?” He repeated.

She bit the inside of her lip. “As long as my face isn’t covered,” she muttered. “But it’s definitely been a problem in past relationships if that’s what you’re asking me ab—”

Harry had his arms looping around her and he pulled her toward him so quickly, she barely had time to process. His body spooned behind her, one arm snug beneath her neck and the other draped around the front of her hips. Her heart rate had to be approaching a hundred and fifty. “Is this alright, beautiful?” He murmured into the back of her hair. She was speechless, truly. Harry holding her like...like she didn’t just have a major meltdown. Like he adored her still. “Lovie?” He said, nearly releasing her when she didn’t answer. Worried that her heart rate was too high—he could practically feel it through her back pressed to him. Maybe this was too much.

But right as he started to pull away, her arm pressed against Harry’s. She sighed softly. “No...m’fine,” her voice was quiet.

“Are y’sure? I don’t want t’upset you,” he promised. “Been dreaming ‘bout snuggling with you... but not at the expense of your comfort or anxiety,” he assured her.

“You dream about cuddling with me?”

“Among other things,” he spoke to the back of her hair, his lips smiling against her head.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“I really didn’t think y’could hate me forever, lovie.”

She was quiet for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was the first time she ever apologized to him. His heart skipped a beat.

“I know, beautiful. How would y’have known, though? I wish y’told me, but I know why y’didn’t.”

More silence. Harry’s bare stomach was touching her t-shirt, his legs were crooked up against the back of hers. They fit like puzzle pieces. She bit the inside of her lip feeling exhaustion pull over her mind. How was she supposed to sleep knowing Harry was sleeping right next to her?

“Good night, lovie,” he murmured.

She sighed, relaxing, and drifting to sleep almost immediately.

*

The first day of the conference went by quickly with not much to really show for it. Harry enjoyed it immensely and had a thousand new ideas that he suggested to her over their lunch together. She enjoyed it as well but after her night snuggled up to Harry nothing else seemed remotely important.

“Hey, lovie?” Harry said, trying to retrieve her attention. “Did y’have plans this afternoon? M’gonna catch up with a friend,” he nodded toward another table. The idea of Harry leaving her alone actually saddened her, but of course...they’d have the night.

Unless the friend was a girl. In which case he very well could not come back to their shared room. She nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Have fun,” she encouraged.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Keep the bed warm for me, yeah?” He winked at her as he pulled away.

She thought maybe killing him would still be an option.

She perused the little picturesque street taking a whole bunch of pictures and stopping in nearly every shop on the street and making a purchase in almost every single one. It was actually really nice. Not too hot, not too cold. She even sort of wished Harry had gone with her on her little adventure. She thought he would have liked some of the shops as much as she did.

It was precisely when she wished Harry had gone with her that she realized she really liked him. All this time.

Maybe he was right, and her brain mistook her affection for him as hatred. She wasn’t ready to say love yet. Even if her subconscious was screaming about how lovely he was.

Even last night when Harry was comforting and gentle about her phobia. He didn’t make her feel bad...in fact he made her feel normal and wonderful. The new information about the slide was a revelation. She had spent so many years with ill-harbored feelings toward Harry. It seemed wasteful after last night. He was kind, understanding, attractive—

She was not in love with him.

She couldn’t be, right?

He was annoying. Even if he wasn’t whispering about her, he was still making her feel grumpy. The constant gag gifts and deliveries were vexing beyond compare.

But those dimples when he smiled? They could undo all those negative emotions she felt. She was certain that there was some pheromone or chemical released in the air when he smiled. One that made her mind momentarily forget that he had been the cause of the slide thing.

However, that wasn’t true anymore.

So...

No. It’s like meeting someone for the first time. You don’t love him.

Not when he called her beautiful or lovie. Not when he openly flirted with her or held her against his warm body in the middle of the night and kept the nightmares away. She did not love him.

But maybe she just really, really, really, really, liked him and wanted to spend all her extra time with him now and show him the little shop she found because she smelled three different kinds of soap that she thought he would enjoy.

Obviously, that wasn’t love.

She looked more like some shopping bag monster than girl, when she made her way into the hotel elevator. Harry was already in the room when she got back. “Have fun?” He asked, putting the new file he brought with him and his pencil aside. His smile was so bright she really wondered how she could have ignored him for so long.

“Did…you catch up with your friend?” She asked. She was gone for almost three hours, she worried that she would come back to find Harry with someone, or someone in the shower...

Or in our bed. One part of her mind was grumpy at the thought. Not our bed. The one brain cell left on the rational side of her mind shouted back.

Harry began untangling her wrists and fingers from the bags she held while her brain had its own conversation. The bags left angry red marks on her skin. He nodded, placing the bags on the floor. “Yeah, jus’ had a quick stop at the pub for a drink,” he gently massaged the inside of her wrists. “I missed you,” he said cutely. She stared at him almost suspiciously. Like maybe all of this was a trick. Her distrust seemed palpable because he frowned. “I did, beautiful. Really missed you,” he brought her wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss on the soft inside skin. She missed him too. Even before she went to the shops, she was dreading leaving his side, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Her face must have softened a bit because the left side of his face turned up in a gorgeous half smile. It made her wonder how Harry had decided on editing and publishing and not modeling. “Would y’like t’get dinner with me?” He asked.

“Like a date?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Yes, lovie. Like a date,” he rolled his eyes.

She frowned. “I don’t really have anything...date-worthy to wear.”

“Well, y’could go naked, but they might throw y’out.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Y’look beautiful now. I’d take y’out in the sexy pajamas y’wore last night.”

She wondered briefly if Harry had ever been hit in the head over the years and suffered irrevocable brain damage. “Sexy?”

“Your leggings?” He smiled mischievously. “M’almost jealous of ‘em touching all of your legs.”

Definitely hit in the head.

“Can I just...have a few minutes to touch up?” She asked, ignoring his comment.

“Course, beautiful. Not that y’need it.” He was good. She would give him that. He was very good at making her feel gooey and pretty. Harry said all the right flirty things. Dinner would be fun, and she was quite hungry.

She exited the bathroom after touching up her makeup and switching out her casual business blouse for a tank top with a cardigan. She swapped her slacks for a pair of jeans. The flats she wore stayed to complete her outfit.

“Will you marry me?” He sighed dreamily as she exited the bathroom.

He was going to give her an aneurysm.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“Ve’been waiting for this date for...” he smiled. “Oh, I don’t know, lovie. Least since university.”

Harry had to have a death wish. “You’ve...liked me? Even though I was mean to you?”

“A glutton for punishment, as it were,” he winked bringing her words back.

She grabbed her little cross body bag and Harry followed her out their hotel room door. Since the slide incident, she had been to at least four different therapists to help alleviate the worry and fear she had. In all honesty, she was much better than she used to be. The airplane was a little daunting during takeoff but that could have been due to a fear of flying, not claustrophobia. Her small attic or the cramped closet in the hall of her place didn’t bother her any longer. Being on a train in public transport rush hour—even when the train came to a standstill in the middle of the dark tunnel—didn’t really bother her anymore. It was only when her face was covered for too long without her ability to get out quickly, sleeping, plagued with nightmares, or swaddled in her blankets too tightly that she felt the waves of anxiety suffocating her like that day on the slide.

Or when the elevator clanged to a stop and jolted her so hard, she nearly fell into Harry.

It was three seconds of pure silence before she realized what happened. Before Harry realized.

“Shit.” Harry whispered.

“Oh no,” her pulse quickened. Her head started to ache, and it felt like the elevator was suddenly the size of an Amazon box and she was crammed inside. It took her a moment to realize the wheezing was coming from her.

“Hey, hey,” Harry quickly grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes welled with tears, and she was heaving on her breath. One of his hands reached for the emergency button causing a monotone ring to take over all sounds in the small space; the volume was louder than her heavy breathing. “Lovie, tell me what t’do,” he begged. “M’sorry,” he whispered. She felt lightheaded and scared. So scared she obviously was having trouble breathing. She worried that she would pass out right into Harry’s arms.

“M’scared,” she croaked.

“I know, beautiful,” he squeezed her shoulders. He held her away at arm’s length afraid to bring her closer in case it would make matters worse. All he wanted to do was wrap her close and console her. “But...s’okay,” he promised. “Really, s’okay.” It wasn’t; he wasn’t trying to make light of her fear either. He knew how bad it was because he had spent the last twenty years waiting for this moment. For her to say she didn’t hate him. For the last ten, he longed for a date. One measly dinner to change her mind. But the broken elevator was going to ruin it all. Honestly, that didn’t even matter to him. All of it didn’t matter. He had to try something to ease her worry. Something to help her scared mind. “I would never let anything happen t’you. Would never let anything hurt you,” he was gazing right into her eyes. He definitely didn’t cure her, but she could feel how devastated Harry felt. He meant it; he wouldn’t let anything harm her as much as he could possibly control. “Deep breaths? Does that help?” He asked. She nodded. She tried but it was hard, the air she sucked in and released was shaky and not very deep. It was hard to think about breathing deeply when all she could think about was dying in this tin box. “Easy, lovie. S’okay,” he squeezed her shoulders again.

The alarm was plain on his face, and she wondered if he wanted to hold her. She wanted to be held but wasn’t sure it would work. Her stomach felt so knotted. Thought maybe she would throw up and she couldn’t imagine a worse first date with Harry than throwing up in an enclosed space. She sank to the floor, her legs scrunched up so she could rest her forehead against her knees. Harry crouched in front of her, clearly still nervous and unsure of what to do. The one part of her brain that still had some rational thought left thought it was a travesty that she would lose Harry from this. She thought if she made it out, she would have to just go home. She couldn’t share a bed with him.

“They’re probably getting someone t’help right now, beautiful. S’okay,” he placed his hands on her ankles. It seemed like the safest option. He was so mortified this happened. To her of all people. The ringing of the elevator seemed to die down with the ringing in her ears. “Lovie?” He asked; he felt anxious that she was breathing so hard. She looked at him, her vision blurred by the tears. “Tell me what t’do,” he begged. He felt so useless. So worried that she was going to pass out or have a meltdown that she would inextricably link to him and never forgive him. After he just made some progress.

He thought about her six-year-old self. Trapped in that slide, her little brain all terrified. He wondered if that little version of herself still existed inside her. It hurt him to think about that poor little girl scared to pieces. He leaned forward and pressed his lips on her forehead and kept pressed there for a moment. That moment in time seemed to stretch on for eternity. But, as he kept his lips on her skin, he noticed her breathing slowly calmed. Her muscles seemed to relax.

“That feels nice,” she murmured almost serenely. He smirked against her skin. Slowly, he pulled away. Her eyes watched Harry with worry, but he slid beside her before he moved too far away. The shaky breathing picked up just a little. Her heart still fluttered with anxiety. She rested her cheek on her knee facing him.

“I...I could...do it again if y’want. If y’think it would help,” he suggested, turning toward her a little more head on. She lifted her head, it felt so achy and heavy. Harry cupped her face and pressed his lips on her skin again. She sighed softly. The ache seemed to ease at his touch.

Ugh. Harry was medicine that she didn’t know she needed. He dragged his lips across her skin, peppering her hairline with soft little presses. She wondered if he would always be this gentle with her.

She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her mind thinking about things like always with Harry. She was fairly certain she would die of humiliation the moment her brain returned to normal once they got off the elevator. There wouldn’t be an always after this. Harry would think she was nuts or ridiculous. There wouldn’t even be a sometimes.

 “Are y’okay, lovie?” He hummed against her skin. “As y’can be right now?”

She nodded, feeling utterly safe with Harry beside her. She enjoyed the way his hands felt on her skin. His lips on her face. It was too bad she didn’t know all these years he had nothing to do with her childhood trauma. She thought she really could be in love with him.

*

It took an hour, but they were finally freed of the metal tin. The moment she had fresh air, she felt infinitely better. Harry could see it on her face and in her body language. She was entirely at ease. Back to normal. After a flurry of questions and the hotel offering a few extra nights, they left for a nearby restaurant. Harry held her hand, fingers twisted together. He didn’t say much, because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say after that. He knew she had to have felt so exposed and vulnerable.

“We...don’t have to go out, if you don’t want,” she mumbled.

Harry frowned and stopped the pair of them in the middle of the sidewalk. “Do y’want t’go back?” He asked.

She bit the inside of her lip. “I’m sorry.”

He blinked in surprise. “For what, beautiful?”

“For being crazy?” Did he forget what just happened?

“Crazy?” He repeated in surprise. “Lovie, s’not your fault. M’glad you’re okay.”

“You’re not...you don’t think I’m...weird?”

His heart felt such sadness for her. “No, lovie. Course not. Think you’re lovely. I was so scared y’were going to hurt yourself in all the worry. M’so glad you’re okay. M’sorry y’had to—why are y’crying, beautiful? Are you alright?” He asked, her eyes spilling with tears. He thought he might cry right with her. Harry had a good six or seven inches on her and he bent his knees a bit so he could be eyelevel with her teary gaze. His hands cupped her face just like on the elevator and he looked pained that she was crying.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t know why she was apologizing. But he let her and pulled her toward him, careful not to cover her face with his embrace. She sobbed into his chest. Harry kissed the top of her head. “S’okay, beautiful. Don’t know why you’re apologizing. But s’okay.”

It felt so embarrassingly awful that she and Harry would never be.

*

They ordered takeout, had a drink while they waited—barely speaking as they did, and headed back to the hotel. Of course, they took the stairs. She didn’t even feel like eating as she sat across from Harry on the balcony. He ate his veggie stir fry quietly while she poked at the pasta in her takeout box. “That’s pasta, you remember?” He smirked at her. “You’re supposed t’eat it,” he encouraged. Trying to joke so she would feel a little better.

She couldn’t even muster an eye roll for him. Ending before they started...after a whirlwind of one night and day of the convention seemed utterly unfair.

“Lovie?” He asked quietly. She didn’t respond. She was worried she would cry. “Beautiful,” he murmured setting his food aside, crouched beside her seat and pushed her food to the side as well.

“I...I think I really like you,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Well finally, lovie. But y’don’t have t’cry ‘bout it, m’right here,” he gave her knee a gentle squeeze. Like he was consoling her.

She shook her head. “S’not fair to you or all that time I wasted. And I’m so weird.”

“You’re not weird, lovie,” he promised.

“Yes, I am, Harry.”

He shook his head. “Y’seriously going t’continue pushing me away when m’literally on my knees in front of you, beautiful? I don’t care if y’weird or not. I don’t care if y’cry on elevators or if y’sing in the shower. You’re m’favorite person t’annoy and I want t’do it, knowing I can kiss you after every joke,” he looked up at her eyes from his crouched position. “Y’don’t have t’waste any more time, lovie. M’right here.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, worried she was going to say no or something just because she was so nervous about all of it. It was twenty years of disliking Harry (well, not really, but yes really). That was twenty years of hating small spaces of getting nervous in crowds and explaining to boyfriends that she couldn’t attend some events even when she wanted to.

But Harry didn’t care.

And she believed him.

She should have begged him to leave her alone because it wasn’t fair to him, and she truly believed that. Harry was so much kinder than she ever, ever imagined. Now he was right, of course. He was right here. Right in front of her. Literally on his knees telling her he wanted her. Despite everything. So instead of opening her mouth where she might say no, she nodded slowly.

He sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her toward him. He carefully squeezed her rubbing his hand up and down her back so soothingly she wanted to cry some more. Harry had the gentlest touch, and it was melting her—inside and out. She sighed into his chest, arms wrapping back around him. She even pressed her face right into his T-shirt and didn’t feel the creeping sensation of doom surrounding her. Instead, all she could smell was the scent of Harry’s laundry detergent and the very essence of Harry.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he sighed into the top of her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. He pushed her away from his body but kept her in between his arms. He really loved touching her face. “Can’t wait t’join you in the shower, now,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to quit, that much was certain. “You should be better than that detachable shower head,” she murmured.

He stared at her fully for at least half a minute, unable to speak. He cleared his throat after what seemed like a lifetime and then kissed the center of her forehead followed by the tip of her nose. Right before he kissed her lips for the first time in their lives, he whispered, “that I have t’see, lovie.”

--

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[cinnamonest]

OMG I MISSED YOUR WRITINGS ON SCARAMOUCHE SO MUCH!!

Please I need the version with camgirl reader x incel Scaramouche 🛐

And I hope you are well !!! <3

The way I was gonna make this a fairly simple post and then I got carried away and now it's 9k words WHOOPS

Anyway YES anon, I am on the slut girl x virgin boy agenda... although since I already have a camgirl, this time I went with like an onlyf*ns/e-girl darling + college AU >:3

//noncon, cyberstalking, blackmail, harassment, misogyny, sadism, nipple/ass stuff, revenge porn/leaking, darling is portrayed as being feminine + implied to have a bf

---

You tell yourself it's just to get you through college.

That's how you convinced yourself to start the account — regular camming requires a schedule and streaming and all that, which you'd rather not do, whereas the other outlets let you sell subscriptions for photos and videos, and there was a decent market out there, so you took your best shot, did some work to advertise yourself on mainstream social sites, and hey, it worked. You soon find yourself with a steady stream of income, and all you have to do is masturbate on camera and take a few posed photos of your body.

A few years of some extra income, and then you'll be done, get a better job, and you can delete the account and scrub the internet clean of any trace of the matter. Maybe some guy out there will keep some of the photos, but it can't be that bad.

This way, you can focus on your academics, which a regular part-time job would be too time-consuming for. You don’t have to worry about scheduling classes around a work schedule, either, which allows you to be more choosy on your class schedule, ensuring you get the later classes and don’t have to wake up early each day.

Except one, where you had no choice but to take the early class, as the other sections filled up fast. It’s one of those required tech-involved ones, you just picked from the list at random — one of those big classes with hundreds of people in a huge auditorium, any degree of personalism drowned by the sheer number of people. It’s a male-dominated subject field, and the body of attending students when you walk in clearly reflects that, so you just sit down in the very back at the first unclaimed seat you can find, pausing to say good morning to the boy next to you, who only briefly looks your way in acknowledgement.

The professor goes over the generic first-day material — that yes, you need the expensive textbook, that yes, he will check attendance, and no, he will not give you extra credit at the last minute at the end of the semester, so on and so on… and—

—you’ll be working with the person next to you for the rest of the semester.

Even-numbered seats, the person to your immediate left, odd-numbered seats, to your immediate right. You turn and smile at the guy you’re thus assigned to, the same one you spoke to a few moments ago — once again, he just glances over at you and nods with some vague acknowledgement and then resumes doing what he’s been doing since the professor started, which is scrolling on his phone beneath the desk, only half-paying attention. That does not bode well for your predictions of how equally-yoked you’ll be in your work ethic… but no big deal.

It's one of those classes with a midterm and final project that you work on throughout the semester, rather than tests… which, hey, that could be fun, you tell yourself. You think you can get along. He doesn’t seem to care about what's going on around him much, which is not exactly good, but isn’t bad.

That dopey, happy demeanor… so obnoxious… ugh, you’ve got a notebook (an aesthetic, pretty one at that), and you're pulling it out on the first day of class? For what?

Except you aren’t reading him all that well at all. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes shift over to you and your activities throughout the class. And the reality is he very much does care.

That is, from the very second he lays eyes on you, you irritate him.

Then you write the class and your name at the top of the page all cutesy and artsy-looking, and then— God, now you're pulling out the multiple colors of highlighters and pens. Is that— is that one of those sparkly gel pens? Oh, it is. You’re making a little header with today’s date for your notes with it. Just kill him now. This is practically psychological torture.

Thus, while from your perspective, it feels like he barely pays you a second thought, in reality the rest of the period for him is spent just stewing in a stream of bitter, jaded thoughts.

Look at you with your… girl clothes and girl pens and girl notebook… you probably think you're so cute, spending money on dumb stuff like that… and smiling like an idiot. What are you so happy for. Why are you even taking this class when you'll just be bad at it. Why are you dressed like you put effort into it. Just pick up one of the sweatshirts laying on your bedroom floor like a reasonable person. And why do you smell so nice too.

He mulls over the negativity for the remainder of the class period, totally zoned out until people start packing up, which is the cue to leave.

Except you stop him before he can make a quick exit, holding out your phone, open to a new entry in your contacts.

Ah, since we'll need to work on the project, I can text you…

Right. That. Ugh.

The awkward discomfort of standing there and entering a name and number while you stand there with that dumb little nervous smile is only made more upsetting by the bitter realization that this will mark the first time he's ever had his number in a girl's phone before. Great, now he's going to be depressed for the rest of the day, and it's your fault.

You say thanks and smile again and your hands brush against his when you take your phone back and it makes him physically flinch in recoil — and you definitely noticed it, you mumble a little ah, sorry as if you're trying to make it even more awkward, now he's got to live with the humiliation of that too, and it's still your fault. Clearly, you are going to be nothing but a source of frustration.

And even once he's moped all the way back to the the comfort of his nice, dark apartment, he still can't escape your torment — no sooner does he flop down into bed than his phone goes off…

>Hi! Just wanted to make sure you can save my number too!

You add the little smiling emoji. It makes his eye twitch.

Trying to act all nice and sweet as if you're not only being pleasant because you're forced to work together. He knows full well you'd be all bitchy and demanding and hypersensitive in any other context, and probably all snobbish too, probably would barely pay him any mind.

Even if you are genuinely sweet, that in and of itself is still basically torturing him. Because what’s the point in you being sweet if you’re not going to give him anything more than that? With that in mind, even your niceness is just a cruel tease.

And why would you even be so happy to begin with? Doesn't being a girl suck? If he was something so weak and inferior and unintelligent, he'd be even more miserable about life, and that's really saying something. Maybe it's one of those things where you're so dumb that you lack self-awareness, so you can live a life of ignorant bliss... at the same time, the notion that you’re unaware of how inferior you are is equally frustrating. You should know, that knowledge should weigh on your mind all the time.

The frustration makes his chest feel tight, makes him grind his teeth… naturally, he has to get it out somehow, and there's a very convenient means to do so.

The imageboards he frequents almost always have a “leaked images” thread up and running, communities where they post e-girls’ nudes and revenge porn. The wrongness of it, of course, is the appeal.

Besides, they all deserve it. Some are images originally sent to boyfriends, posted as an act of revenge after cheating or dumping the guy (so it's deserved, really), others are leaked videos and photos from various pay-to-view networks and websites (also deserved, for being a whore), and finally some are just creepshots in public places (deserved once more, for dressing that way).

And the endless amount of the content and surprisingly good tagging system means that one can find any sort of content, and for the leaked porn accounts, it includes the girl's username and links to more of her, so you can see more of the same girl.

Like with this one, that just so happens to catch his eye. There's a whole page where some guy has paid for every single photo this girl has made, and put it out there for everyone to see for free. It's solo stuff, too, which is preferred — seeing couples making videos together, thereby watching the girl love on some guy, is depressing — and getting off to it is much more satisfying than any of the other girls on this thread, considering she looks like you.

…A lot, actually.

He's already memorized your annoying, pretty little face. The title of the video has the words “college girl” in it, too. Adds to the immersion, can feel like it’s really you, degrading yourself like that… of course, when it’s over, he has to deal with the reality that it isn’t, but the momentary pretending is cathartic.

And sure enough, as the first week passes, you quickly prove just as irritating as he initially suspected. You smile at him and talk to him every class, for some unknown, malicious ulterior motive. Are you trying to be belittling? Or are you trying to make him like you so that he'll do favors for you? Or is it for your own amusement?

Either way, the obvious deceit of it all is sickening. It's a commonly known female behavior. You try to come across as so sweet when in reality it's all an act, and you have some horrible reason for it. He just doesn't know what the reason is in your case yet. It would be better to be a bad person outright — the slimy underhanded fakeness of it all is what makes that type of evil so contemptible.

You, though, you’re just a bit puzzled. Normally, being nice to people works well… but this guy keeps sort of glaring at you… maybe that’s just how his face naturally is? But then, he also doesn’t talk very nice either. Not particularly mean, per se, but you can sort of sense an irritation, like you’ve done something wrong… you try to make the best of it, tell yourself you’re just imagining it. Besides, if he really didn’t like you, he wouldn’t respond when you talk to him, or would sit elsewhere, right? It’s not like you have to maintain the same seats all semester, as long as you work on the required material outside of class. So, you tell yourself, he must just be one of those people that naturally has that demeanor.

You’re not nearly as aware of it, but he makes his own observations of you too. You don’t check your phone nearly as much as he does, but every now and then, you look at something or another, and he always makes sure to subtly turn his eyes to see… it’s usually something stupid, like texts from friends, or worse, what appears to be a boyfriend, some male name you text often.

The first time you’re forced to meet outside of class, at the library per your suggestion — a very awkward interaction, but you seem to be fairly unbothered — you take a moment to check it when it vibrates. You’re sitting at an angle that makes it difficult for him to see without moving in a way that would catch your attention, but by pretending to take a swig of whatever can of liquid caffeine he has today (you had the audacity to comment how unhealthy it is), that he can tilt his head enough just to barely make out your screen without being noticed.

Your phone is open to an email.

The words flash across the screen for just a split second before you turn the screen off, but that one second is enough to make out the top of the screen. Enough time for the ‘hello, (username),’ preface to the email right beneath a very familiar blue logo to register with his brain.

He nearly chokes.

It takes every ounce of willpower to even try to hide the natural reaction — his eyes widen, he goes tense, he has to turn his torso away and pretend to fish something out of his cluttered bottomless void of a backpack whilst trying to refrain from coughing.

But then again, you put the phone away so quickly once you saw what it was… and the video from the other day…?

No. That can't be right.

There's no way. There's no way, there's no way, there's no way.

He can’t get back to his own place fast enough. Dropping the keys trying to unlock the door out of excitement, immediately whipping out his own phone, and he’s on the bookmarks tab before he can even sit down. Back to the leaks site, scrolling down to the tags where they put the girl’s username.

You’re wholly unbothered, going right back to talking to him in that overly-sweet tone, so nice, so frustrating, so torturous. You’re saying something. He has to get you to repeat yourself… no, it was just some pointless question about the homework.

To hell with that, that’s not even remotely important anymore… but he can’t voice that thought out loud, so he’s forced to tolerate the torment of waiting out the rest of your meeting until you finally say you’ll have to keep working later.

The usernames match. The one in your email was the exact same as the one now on the screen.

…

It's one of those moments where what's in front of him is so surreal, he's left so stunned, that he just sits there for a second, completely still, blinking and taking it in. Something that's too perfect to be real. This can't be actually happening, he's mistaken.

And thus he's just left perfectly still, a stupor of disbelief, sitting there in the darkness of the room with only the harsh light of phone screen shining up on his face as it slowly sinks in. It takes a minute — this is just the sort of thing that doesn't happen, it's far too perfect, he has to convince himself it isn't a dream.

And once it registers as reality, it feels exhilarating.

For one, it proves every suspicion right. He really did have a valid reason to be distrusting of your innocent girl act. To think, this whole time you were trying to fool him into believing you were good.

But all along, you were whoring out online, and basically, the fact that you're not upfront about that to someone you barely know is the same as outright lying about it.

Up until this point, life has just been so boring, so disappointing, just going through day to day… even college was just a thing to do because it's what everyone else does. But now? Now he has something exciting. A sudden sense of something meaningful, even if only as an outlet for pure, unadulterated malice.

As for you, well, you get a… well, a follower, but certainly not a fan.

The boy is a world-class hater. It's not passive hating, it's active hating. There is actual effort being put in here, and a lot of it at that.

In terms of the content itself, it's nothing you haven't seen before — some guy leaving comments and DMs calling you a whore and a slut and every nasty name one can conjure, saying you've ruined any hopes of a relationship by doing this, why would anyone ever date you when they can see you naked for a few bucks, telling you to get a real job, blah blah… fairly generic. A lot of the verbiage is certainly non-original, and more or less recycled, specific choices of words and phrases and lingo you know you’ve seen before in those pockets of the internet where certain types of men congregate.

But the sheer dedication to it is what catches you off guard. You're pretty sure this guy is more dedicated to harassing you than you are to the job itself. There's messages from all hours of the day, and you're certain after a short time that he makes multiple accounts for the sole purpose of harassing you. Not to mention he follows or adds you on everything — all the socials you've linked (you keep several associated to your account to lure in horny guys from mainstream sites), adds you on discord and any other messaging app you have (and you have no way of knowing which users are legitimate or if it's him, so you have to add them back and wait to find out each time). One of which you didn't even have listed on your page, so you realize he would have had to go through various apps and search the multiple variations of your username you use until finding you.

Telling him to fuck off accomplishes nothing, in fact he seems to derive great satisfaction from making you upset about it. Tells you that you should be glad — you wanted male attention, right? You wouldn't be posting yourself getting off and flashing your tits on camera for the world to see if you didn't, slut. He adds that insult to just about everything he says to you.

Blocking him only leads to him making new accounts (and then mocking you for trying to block him). You even reached out to a customer support team on one of your social media apps and got him permanently IP banned, which he then immediately circumvented in less than a few hours, making sure to inform you that changing one's IP is so easy and you're so dumb for thinking that would do anything.

But why you, specifically? Why decide to torment you out of every other girl doing this stuff? You don't know. You never asked for this. You never did anything wrong to anyone. You even scrolled back on your social accounts to see if you ever said anything someone could take offensively or had a negative interaction with someone, but found nothing. There's nothing to explain why this one man in particular has decided to come after you specifically, nothing you can think of at least. It feels like the universe just hates you.

It's actually kinda sad. You almost feel bad for this guy, who apparently has so much time to spare and nothing better to do than harass the same girl on the internet day in and day out. You did once shoot back a reply of don’t you have anything better to do?, which actually did make him stop… for about ten hours or so, then it was right back to it.

It's deserved, though, he thinks. E-girls are reprehensible. Taking advantage of guys’ loneliness for money.

Infuriating that you advertise something that he— well, that most guys want so bad, but don't actually give the real thing, only a simulation of it. Make them drool over you, while you hide behind the safety of the screen, far away from what those guys would do to you if they could get their hands on you.

And you know that too, don't you? You know how defenseless you are, know how much danger you'd be in if you teased without putting out like that to a guy in real life, and you do it anyway knowing you're untouchable, you must be so smug about it. Infuriating.

He's not like those simps of yours though, he finds you too morally reprehensible to be drawn to the curves of your body and the parts of you that you post and the sounds you make and how easy it is to imagine the softness of your skin and the way you feel and your warmth and the way you look directly into the camera as you moan and it feels like eye contact—

Anyway, he has standards. And self-respect.

Besides, he knows from stalking your social accounts — including your real ones with your real identity attached, separate from the others — that you have something like a boyfriend. Some guy who shows up in your pictures a lot. What a pathetic idiot. Who lets their girlfriend do this sort of thing? Even disregarding that, does this guy not know you’re meeting with him for your project too? He would never allow you to do something like that, were it him in that position. You must go after spineless guys who will let you walk all over them or something, and would only even accept boyfriends that allow you to do what you do.

That’s why, see, he would never accept something like that. Sure, there would be positives, like getting to see that sweet annoying smile and hear your happy obnoxious precious voice each and every day, and getting to touch you and be around you all the time, and you probably do really nice things for the person you’re with too, and he could always just force you to delete the accounts and never post yourself online again— but, whatever.

Point is, he’s better than stooping so low. He’ll keep living a respectable life, just like he does now — so he thinks as the phone alarm goes off, one of many set reminders to go send you more messages.

It's an awkward relationship, but you're pretty sure he doesn't hate you or anything, which is good. He's hard to read — he seems perpetually either bored or irritated, always slouched over, always maintaining that ‘I really wish I weren't here right now’ tone of voice, lots of heavy sighs or tsks scattered into his speech. Even when you agree to meet at the library to work on the homework and midterm project, he quickly establishes a pattern of being at least ten to fifteen minutes late (without any acknowledgement or apology at that), and frankly, you do the vast majority of the actual work, he just slaps his name on the corner next to yours once it's done.

The torment detracts from your sleep. You're late to your class more than once, trying to sneak in unnoticed by the professor and mumbling apologies to the students you have to slip by to get to your seat. Your partner doesn't seem to care much, at least — he just lazily glances over at you with a flat expression, then goes back to scrolling (he doesn't need to take notes, you'll just send him yours anyway).

He does step in to help when it's too difficult, you can't solve the problem yourself… which is how you realize that, in spite of being remarkably low-effort, he actually does understand the material, much better than you do at that. It's a bit embarrassing, since he makes it out to be so simple, but at least it somewhat compensates for all the work you do.

He's not particularly mean about it, he's just… not nice. The tone and choice of words tends to be not-so-subtly making you out to be dumb for not getting it, or that it's easy, or otherwise belittling.

…You really don't get that one? It's the exact same thing as the last one.

You give a sheepish smile and rub the back of your head.

Aha… sorry…

But it gets done, and that's what matters. You just walk away from each meeting feeling like an idiot, which isn't exactly a great feeling.

But even though you initially felt like the guy didn’t care for you, you quickly notice that he’s started to walk all the way back to your place after your meetings while you talk. You supposed he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t at least somewhat enjoy your company.

And you do try to make conversation. You ask about what other classes he takes…only to learn that he doesn't go to any other classes, since this is the only one where attending is required. He did the math, and he just has to do good on the finals for the other classes to pass, no need to show up for the tests and quizzes and lectures and stuff… and he did research into the professors to find ones where past students confirm they recycle the exact same tests and the past ones are posted online, and he's already got a good cheating method that's only been caught once in all the years he's used it… so there's no point in showing up, he says.

It's a very different mentality than yours, but you try to smile and refrain from saying anything negative. And you try interests and social life as topics, but quickly glean from what little he says that the guy has none of the latter and more or less just a phone and gaming addiction for the former.

Which you have no trouble believing, because good God, does the boy have a totally fried attention span. Even in your meetings, you swear he can't go five minutes without staring at his phone.

Oh, you like that too…?

That does end up helping you find a means to try and get closer. You manage to find one opening, something flash across the screen for some upcoming game. One you've been looking forward to as well.

Huh? You can’t like that thing. He likes that thing. It's not for females. It’s for people with good taste… it’s good… you can’t… someone like you would never be able to properly appreciate it… and now you’re just babbling away with that dumb smile while he’s going through a psychological crisis and rethinking every choice in life because of you. Does this put you two on the same intellectual level...? No, of course not, he has to quickly shake off any such doubts.

You were hoping to get a positive reaction, but you get silent bewilderment in his expression at first, for just a second.

Still, you’re supposed to be boring and a normie… you can’t just suddenly shatter the image of you he’s already constructed… and from the way you're talking about it, you know too much to just be pretending to like something for attention (which is the obvious automatic assumption for when females like media that's actually good and worth consuming).

Devastating. Now he has to consider the possibility that you do have interests and a personality besides being deceitfully sweet and whoring online.

But from your perspective, he just crosses his arms and shrugs.

Kind of, I guess.

And God, then you smile at him again. Every time you do that, it gives him some godawful tight-chested feeling, like you’re trying to kill him with psychic damage.

What gives you the right to be so happy right now anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in constant distress, now? Is he not doing good enough of a job at tormenting you? You seemed upset, but clearly not upset enough, if you’re still emotionally stable enough to be nice to him. He has to break you, make you too distraught to even go on.

Online, you’re so mean, you never have anything nice to say, even though he’s not that mean to you — well, he could be worse, at least, which is basically the same thing.

Actually, he decides, how you behave in real life will be a good standard of how good he’s doing at making your life miserable. Once it starts to noticeably affect you even in real life, that means it’s sufficient.

But you prove resilient. Each day, you seem to get up, summon some resolve to still enjoy your life, and are still pleasant and friendly… or maybe you’re just really good at acting. Yes, obviously that’s it, since your whole sweetness thing is just an act in the first place.

On your end, the harassment gets worse. It comes in all hours of the day — does this guy not sleep? It’s almost hard to believe someone hates you this much, or even has the energy to keep this up… you start trying to just ignore it.

You tried threatening to report the guy for harassment, but he points out that he hasn’t threatened you with any real harm, and only targeted your public accounts, so no laws broken… and he’s already prepared by taking measures to— well, you don’t understand the spew of lingo that follows, but you gather that the jist is that it would be very difficult to trace him.

So you start to ignore it. You try your best to just not let it get to you, let the comments and messages go without acknowledgement or response. It’s actually somewhat relieving, if you just pretend it doesn’t exist. At first, when you start ignoring him, the messages get more frequent.

But then, it goes quiet for a day. Just around twenty-four hours, you don't get messages, nor comments.

It should make you feel relieved, you think, but it doesn't. Quite the opposite — you feel uneasy. Like something will happen.

He's getting bored, you see. You don't react as strongly anymore as you used to. You used to get so upset at all the messages he sent, and it was so fun to watch how you'd get all defensive and angry in your replies.

Then your replies got shorter, and now— what gives your the right to ignore him? It infuriates him. Dumb whore, treating him like you think you're so much better… or, the gut-wrenching thought passes through his mind, maybe you're busy, you’re probably visiting the guys you sleep around with, since someone like you could never be loyal to that boyfriend he's certain you have.

The only option is to progress things further. He has to think about that. He didn't really have a plan on where to go from here, but now he's started to think about the bigger picture, what he wants in the long term… and that's not going to go over well for you.

It takes some work and digging on his end, but it's worth it.

It's around three in the morning when your phone goes off. It just barely manages to wake you up. You think to yourself that you should remember to turn off the notifications for messaging apps… but for now, you sit up, groggily unlocking your phone. Seeing who the message is from, though, snaps you into full alertness.

A message that makes you go stiff, staring at your phone wide-eyed and slack-jawed, a cold knot of dread forming in your gut that quickly turns to an electrifying surge of pure panic as you read.

The name of your academic institution. The names, emails and phone numbers of your immediate family members. Your full, real name — and your address, down to the unit number.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. The glaring light hurts your tired eyes, but you can't look away.

You know he's just waiting on a response. Probably knows you're panicking, but knows you have no choice but to comply — and you're forced to give him the satisfaction of seeing you type back.

>What do you want from me?

It's only a few seconds before you get a reply.

>From now on, do what I want

>Or I ruin your life.

You hesitate a while before responding. Poor you, you must be so scared now that you're finally getting what you deserve. And even then, you just send back a ‘fine,’ even though it took you so long to respond. You were probably trying to think of how to respond, probably typed out longer potential replies, but decided on that to seem tough or something. That's actually almost endearing.

And oh, it's so, so satisfying to finally see you crumble, even if just a bit, the next day. For you to come shuffling into class for once with a downtrodden, nervous expression, making your way over to your spot without the usual greeting.

…Except that's also irritating. What makes you think you can just not say hello, now that you've established a routine of doing so every day of this class? For all you know, he's just the person you know in real life, so you're basically willingly choosing to potentially disappoint him. Not that you are disappointing him, but like, if he actually cared about your dumb little daily greeting, then he would be. He even gives you several extra seconds, and you still don't do it.

You're still fidgeting nervously, lost in thought when the mumbling directed at you pulls you out of your thoughts.

…Something wrong with you?

You seem to realize your sullen energy and attempt to fix it with a twitching, obviously forced smile.

O-oh, no, I'm just tired, haha… good morning!

He doesn't say anything back, just turns back to phone-scrolling as usual. You realize your melancholy must be showing on your face.

You're being overdramatic, too, he thinks. He didn't even give you any demands yet, since he decided it would be more fun to make you wait in suspense for a few hours or so. Seeing you squirm is funny, but really, you're acting like it's so much worse than it is. What a weakling, so sensitive.

It's just gonna be stuff you're used to anyway…

Which is somewhat true. You're used to the demand for private, custom content.

Men pay you sometimes incredible amounts of money for the stuff. Usually, the customization is about personalization — sometimes it's kind of sad, wanting you to say their name or that you love them while you look at the camera, and sometimes it's just more niche fetish stuff, like pictures of your feet or wearing a weird costume.

But everything this mystery man wants is different — the personalization has to do with the fact that it's painful, humiliating, or both. Moreover, he's never content with the first try.

Stuffing your holes with toys and sitting down on them so they go all the way in, specifically, ‘as many as you can fit’ — but even after the painful effort of getting one in each hole—

>That's not enough.

You can fit at least one more somewhere. And you're intentionally using the smaller toys, aren't you? You won't be able to do that next time, so don't try that again.

Then there's the command to get those clamps on your nipples you used in a video of yours a long time ago, the ones connected to each other by a chain, and to tighten them then pull hard enough for them to come off. You have to take a few deep breaths to summon the ability to do it, and even then, it takes a few tugs to get them to come off. By the time they do, your nipples are swollen and red and your eyes are watery from the sting, but nonetheless, a message comes through within a minute of sending the video.

>You didn't tighten them all the way first.

>Do it over.

Or the one to deep throat that one huge toy you have, the one you used in this one video a long time ago — which you now regret ever posting, since there's a reason that you never used that monstrosity again, much less in your throat. At first you're not even sure you can fit it into your mouth, but you force it somehow.

On and on the demands come. He's not paying for any of it, of course, but the premise is the same.

Still, it's not enough. Come on, you didn't even get it very far in, you have to at least get half down your throat. And you didn't hold the phone close enough, can't hear your gagging choking sounds.

>Do it again.

The timing is often terrible, shortly before or after your classes, or odd hours of the night, forcing you to stop whatever you're doing to meet the demand. Thankfully, though, at least you've never gotten a message from him during your meetups with your class partner — you're certain your distress would show on your face, and it would be hard to come up with an excuse for it.

It becomes such routine, and all happens so quickly, it feels surreal, like you're just forced to accept it and go with it. There’s no time to really process it, as you have to get back to doing your school work and going to class and trying to keep up with your regular video content, it's all so overwhelming, yet so simple, you just have to do what you have to do.

One moment you're slapping yourself in the face while you bounce up and down on a toy so long that it bruises your insides for some jerk that's blackmailing you, and running to class the next, desperately trying to rub at the marks on your face to make them go away.

You're worried that the stress is beginning to show. Your most recent quiz scores are lower than usual, you're getting less sleep. Your insides are always sore. You're paranoid and uneasy, and you know it has to be somewhat evident.

Some of the individual demands have lasting consequences, too. Once you were commanded to choke yourself with a belt on camera, specifically until it left bruises… which you begged and protested against because you had one of your class partner meet-ups scheduled for later the same day, but your tormentor said he didn't care and insisted, so you did it, forcing yourself to go through it… and sending an additional picture at the end just to show the purplish marks in detail, up close.

It wasn't the end of the world for your meeting though — the weather wasn't right for it, but you found something that covered your neck up, at least, so the bruises didn't show. That much, at least, allows you to be at ease… although your classmate seems to be in a particularly bad mood that day.

On another occasion, you find yourself laying on your side, gasping and wincing trying to force one of the larger toys you have into your ass, all the way to the base as instructed, toes curling as you pump it back and forth, in and out… only to be told you weren't supposed to touch yourself while you did it, so, predictably, you have to do it again, the ring of muscle clenching down as it's stretched — and, of course, the act leaves a remnant sensation lasting the rest of the day. You have to rush it too, or you'll be late, due to the horrible timing of the command.

You manage to get to class, but when you move to sit, an ache of pain runs up your spine from your poor abused hole, and you wince, face grimacing at the pain.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The guy next to you, ever observant to everything except the professor, casts a lazy glance over to you, looks you up and down before asking what’s the matter, albeit in a half-caring, bored tone of voice…

You give the oh, nothing, I'm fine! response, stammer out something about hurting your leg yesterday, and he merely gives you an 'ah' of acknowledgement before turning his gaze back down… he rests his chin against his hand so that his mouth is covered up, but you swear, you can detect a slight grin from the shape of his eyes. You suppose it checks out that he'd find your clumsiness amusing, even if it's a lie.

On and on it goes. All the time. Day in, day out. It starts off as once per day, but then your tormentor starts piling smaller requests on top of those. Even beyond the daily video, you get increasingly frequent messages at all times of the day — to take a picture of your tits or ass, or a short video of you fingering yourself, or some sort of angle or pose of your body, writing something on your skin, so on and so on.

He doesn't accept any delays, either. You only get a few minutes to fulfill a demand before getting an impatient follow-up asking what the hold up is. Sleep isn't an excuse either, so you're told, so you have to start turning your phone on loud at night to wake you if need be.

You sense a growing impatience. The frequency increases still, as does the intensity of the content you're forced to make. It's as if it's building up to something — surely it has to reach a limit, or he has to get bored, or he'll ditch you and find a new outlet for his sadistic thrills, you hope. You just hope it ends in a way that's positive for you… but you're afraid of the opposite. What if even after all this, he just ruins your life anyway? It's a very real possibility, one you begin considering increasingly as you think over the whole situation.

The increasing severity and number of demands makes you feel like he's getting more upset, as if you're doing something that makes him mad, even though you have no idea what that could be.

You are right, though.

He's also noticed how much more frequently he gets the urge to demand something from you. How much more the itch has grown, the compulsive need to see you hurting and degrading yourself more and more. You've long since passed the point where he has more videos and photos of you all to himself than those available online — he's been counting — but it's still not enough.

And with the realizations that he's engaging with you more, he realizes that he's also thinking about you more.

No, “more” isn't quite accurate. All the time. Constantly. You never leave his head, everything else feels like a distraction.

And that's only more infuriating. He's very self-aware, realizes it's getting worse, realizes you essentially occupy his thoughts every waking second.

Even then, the distractions aren't working. At one point he realized he literally cannot stop himself from messaging you, it's a compulsion, a need, and the realization of his own lack of self-control regarding it is maddening. He actively tried, told himself to wait until the next day, but just couldn't. Even if he plays games or watches whatever brain-rotting media he tries to consume, his thoughts keep drifting to you. Hell, ever since latching onto you, he’s stopped harassing other random women online in general, and that was pretty much one of his biggest hobbies in the past.

What gives you the right? To get inside his head like that? Make him constantly distracted and wondering about what you're doing, forcing him to keep tabs on you? What makes you think you can just come into his life and control him like this, and think you'll get away with it? You've more or less taken advantage of an innocent person who did nothing wrong to you. Used your body to exploit his weaknesses and manipulate him into doing all this.

You don't get to do that. You have to be held accountable.

You're constantly making him worry about you, what you're doing, who you're talking to, and not knowing is a maddening feeling. It feels like nausea, a sick feeling that completely consumes the mind, rendering it incapable of doing or focusing on anything else, only cycling the same obsessive rage and worry and paranoia until it becomes unbearable.

But there's a way to get rid of that, and give you what you deserve, and get what you owe him all at the same time.

He waits, only another week or so — a frustrating week, but spent planning ahead and gathering necessary stuff — but finally, given the timing, you send a text he was hoping you'd send asking about meeting up again, to finish up the project as the end of the semester approaches.

You're a bit caught off-guard by the message, not to mention how quickly he replies.

>Come over here.

You hesitate, re-reading to try and ensure that you're understanding correctly, and finally ask for clarification that he means to his place.

He says yes. Something about how he's supposed to have something delivered that he'll have to sign, and so he has to be at the apartment when that happens, so, y'know, best for you to come over.

Which is nice.

It's just… odd.

Inviting you over, even if for a required activity, feels very out of line with the person you've come to know, however surface-level said knowing may be. Then again, maybe this is the guy's way of trying to be nice. Everyone expresses appreciation differently.

You're still thinking on it when he adds another text saying that his roommate will be there, preemptively apologizes for any disturbance that will cause… well, you figure if someone else is there, it can’t be anything sinister. That helps you make up your mind, so you agree. At this point, you know each other well enough to warrant trust.

…It’s still pretty awkward, though. The apartment is about like a picture you would expect to see uploaded to the internet as a joke about male living spaces. Borderline barren, barring the computer and the bare minimum furniture and appliances needed to survive, plus some clothes and empty cans and such strewn in various places across the floor, all dark lighting and void of color.

That being said, you quickly realize the apartment is only a studio, and there’s only one bed. The roommate doesn't exist.

And something just feels wrong, in a way you can’t articulate. Like your instincts are urging you to leave. You feel uneasy. Goosebumps spread across your skin. Are you just being paranoid…?

There is something else, though, that immediately catches your attention. You notice that the wall isn’t exposed, rather, most of the room is covered with a layer of some sort of paneling, lining the wall almost as thoroughly as wallpaper. You inquire what it is.

Soundproofing.

An unpleasant answer, but he wouldn’t be so upfront about it unless it was for harmless reasons. You refrain from inquiring about the other odd things you start to notice — locks on some cabinets despite seemingly living alone, a roll of tape sitting on the desk with no discernable purpose.

As awkward as the tension is, you really have no option but to sit on the bed, as its the only surface other than the floor. You try not to contemplate how often the average college-aged boy washes bedsheets.

It occurs to you, though, that right now would be the worst possible timing for a message from your unknown harasser, and you certainly can’t take any photos or videos here… thus, just as you sit down and begin to work, you pick up your phone from where you set yours next to his, and type out a quick message, basically pleading with the unknown man to leave you along for the next few hours, because, as you explain, you literally can’t do anything for the time being.

You read it over, and hit send.

And before you can even put the phone back down, there's a vibration a mere arms-length away from you, as the other phone in the room lights up.

And there, in the notification that pops up on the screen, are the very words you just sent.

…

…

There's a few seconds where nothing happens.

Both your heads naturally turn to the sound the moment it happens, but after that, it's just… still. You’re frozen still, he’s frozen still. Both your eyes go wide, and the quiet seconds pass, processing the information before you.

And then, he sighs, body relaxing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering as if met with some major inconvenience.

God, why do you have to make this more difficult.

Besides, he already turned the lock that locks you in from the inside, even though you probably weren’t aware of what it was, so you’re already trapped anyway. And you squeal, of course, predictably, but that’s what the soundproof panels are for.

He's not particularly worried like he would have been any other time — this was the plan now anyway, but you're throwing things off schedule. Yet another transgression to hold you accountable for.

You do try to run. You at least deserve that much credit. He was so close to considering you a genuine marvel of human evolution, with how nonfunctional your survival instincts seemed to be.

But you’re sitting with your legs folded, so, you don’t have the time required to stand any chance of hopping up and running. The moment your legs start to move to stand, he’s already got you by the arm.

You even seemed to process everything a bit quicker than he would have thought. Maybe you’re not that stupid after all, just… a little less.

You still are incredibly stupid though. He’s almost surprised you agreed to come. So naive, so dumb, so trusting.

And so loud. Squealing like a little animal caught by a predator — which, well, isn’t too far off, but it still hurts his ears.

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

You can hear the growling voice in your ear, even now that he has your face pressed into the mattress, arm latched around your waist. You’re squirming so hard too, but even fighting with all the strength you can summon, it feels like trying to push back a brick wall. He seems to notice as much as you do.

…Is that actually the best you can do?

Not the first time he’s said those words to you — though before, it was over text, mocking you into filling all those perverse desires. It feels far more biting now.

And it’s so, so, so satisfying to see you realize just how dumb you are, as you put everything together. To watch you slowly grasp everything, realize just how badly you’ve fucked up. He even flips you onto your back just to see your face go through all the stages of emotion. It’s hilarious, and adorable too. The confusion and betrayal and panic and anger.

Oh, you get so mad. It’s actually the best part. You’re practically snarling now, reaching up to try and claw at him, kicking, baring your teeth. Any traces of the sweet demeanor you once held is long gone as you lash out… and then, a purely and entirely euphoric transition to fear.

Aw. Poor thing. After you struggle so much, your breathing gets faster, the fury dissipates as your eyes well with tears. The demands to let you go turn to miserable little pleas.

Maybe you can go back and forth. Maybe if he taunts you again you’ll get angry once more, and then if he slaps you you’ll get meek and fearful again? That would be nice, to have reliable ways to switch your emotions around, as if controlling them with a button. There will be plenty of time to find out later.

But now he gets the opportunity to finally tell you how long you made him wait for this. Mocks you for how naive you were. Brings up specifics from all those videos you sent him. Did you think it would just be left at that? Did you really not realize it wouldn’t be enough? No, of course you didn’t, and that’s why you ended up coming here like the dumb little slut you are.

And look, you even wore something so easy to flip up, practically easy access. You just have no shame at all, do you. See, it goes in perfectly because you’ve been using those toys for those videos, and… ah, so that’s— that’s what it feels like… holy shit… this is what you basically robbed him of all this time? Now you’ll really have to suffer to make up for it…

Well, you wouldn’t get it. It’s about what you did subconsciously, mind games and all that. His torment was intentional on your end, and that’s what matters. Now you'll get to spend a very very long time atoning for it. You should be happy. You won't even have to worry about making money anymore.

This wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t do what you did to him, you know. It’s your fault. He tells you so. And when you look up at him, eyes welled with tears, stammering out a question of what he means—

What did I ever d-do to you…?

—he realizes that it’s… difficult to give that question a concrete answer.

What did you do, really...?

The only problem that remains is how you rushed things. He was at least going to wait until you finished the project, but now it’s incomplete… do professors grant extensions if your partner goes missing…?

[enheene]

Rich kid boyfriend heeseung fucking you into oblivion as you try to study- can you make it a fic?

He wants it? He gets it.

18+ MDNI

Lee Heeseung

}^Warnings: spoiled!boyfriend!hee x afab!reader, unprotected sex, pet names, idk just annoying hee but then both of them being all lovey dovey, reader crying cuz a bit overstimulated, oral (female receiving), idk semi?squirting, breeding

}^Words: 1022

}^A/N: I’m new into writing this kind of stuff, sorry if you’re disappointed by it!! I’m as well hoping for my fast improvement in writing fics^^

Studying isn’t a thing you enjoy at all, but to get a well-paying job, that’s the only thing you can do. Having a part-time job as a waitress in a small café isn’t paying you enough for you to pay all of your bills alone. What about the food you need to survive? Well, your boyfriend Lee Heeseung, who is a young man, from an upper-class family with a playful lifestyle, helps you out. A lot. To which you’re of course grateful, but he just doesn’t take anything serious. Why would he though? He’s one of the most spoiled people you’ve ever met. He doesn’t need to study as much as you do, he doesn’t need to care about the bills, he gets whatever he wants and that means he also wants you most of the time.

„Seungiee, not now. Later”, are the only words repeatedly leaving your mouth for about 3 hours now. Your boyfriend still doesn’t seem to care, that you’re busy studying for your upcoming final exam of this semester.

,,But y/nnn, I can’t wait anymore. Do you know how hard it is to not throw you on our bed and fuck your brains out? Just, please, get a little bit of a break.”, seeing him all pouty, whiny and horny just for you, makes you less concentrated on your studies. As always. He already knows how to make you give up on your assignments, chores, etc. It annoys you sometimes, but what can you do? He’s your lover after all and you appreciate all of his efforts to make it less stressful for you.

„No, I have more important things to do.” You answer him. „More important than me? Is that so, angel?” Cocky and horny. Nothing new about your boyfriend.

As you continue to study with a book and pen in your hands, he picks you up and lays you down on your king-sized bed. „Heeseung! What are you doing?! Did you lose your mind!?”

„I actually did, yeah”, he informed you with a smirk on his face. Slowly taking off your sweatpants, as you try to get out of his grip, unveiling your pink, laced panties with a wet patch on them. ,,You’re losing your mind as well, princess. Aren’t you?”, Heeseung chuckled with a now slight smirk remaining on his face. He took the pen you were still holding in your hand and started moving up and down your clit with it. You started whining at the sudden touch of something unfamiliar but yet satisfying to you. ,,Princess, do you mind reading out loud what’s in your book?” He asked you while pulling your shirt up, uncovering your breasts. Right after, he’s pulling your panties down and throwing it on the floor. As the wetness is dropping down your cunt, Heeseung decides to take off his own shirt and pants, being left in his boxers only. You start whining asking him to touch you already but he just answers you with a ,,I asked you to read.” Scrunching your face you start reading the quotes first, making him finally put two of his fingers into your pussy moving them in and out. ,,Hee, please stop”, your trembling voice telling him throughout reading the book as your back started to arch slightly. „Is that what’s written in your book? Besides, I don’t think you actually want me to stop”, he teases you as his mouth starts kissing your thighs and then licking and sucking on your clit harshly but yes so lovely. Your moans of being close to your climax and struggling to read the book makes him harder and harder each second “Cum for me, baby”. He’s moving and curling his fingers in your cunt even faster than before, untying the knot in your belly as you moan his name out loud losing the concentration from reading the book. All of your juices being slurped by Heeseung leaving his chin wet. ,,So fucking sweet, princess. You did so well for me.” He doesn’t wipe it away as he starts kissing you making you taste yourself. ,,Don’t stop reading.“ are his only words while he’s taking his boxers off enough to free his leaking with pre-cum dick. As you start reading again, Heeseung puts the tip of his cock into your still sensitive cunt making you squirm. ,,Please, no more.” Just these 3 words falling out of your mouth made him put his whole length in as you let out an almost pornographic moan. “I’m pretty sure you can take it, my angel baby.”

Tears slowly falling out of your eyes as he’s thrusting deeply into you at a fast speed, making you moan his name over and over, as the book is fully forgotten by you. “Princess, I didn’t tell you to stop reading, did I?” Your boyfriend reminded you, while breathing hardly, about the book laying next to your head. You reach out for it and start mumbling some nonsense that isn’t even written in the book. Heeseung chuckling deeply with a smirk on his face only to speed up the pace. “Fuck, so tight, baby.” He groaned. “I’m about to c-cum.” Were your last and only words coming high-pitched out of your mouth, including his name and the mumbling of the nonexistent phrases out of your book. Your cunt throbbing and releasing even more juices than before, makes Heeseung curse under his own breath as your clenching cunt brings him to release his seeds inside of you. “I’m so proud of you, angel. We should do this more often though.” Hee chuckled as you agreed with him. You whined as he pulled out of you, feeling empty and surely telling him about the feeling of emptiness. He smirked at the common sight of his babies dropping out of you. Picking you up and walking to the bathroom now him fully undressing both of you. You and him stepping into the shower feeling the warm water falling down on your skin as you both hug.

“I love you, my princess.” “I love you too, my prince”

[togrowoldinv]

Home for the Holidays

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

When you get home from a work trip, you and Natasha reunite just in time for holiday celebrations

Note: I’m back! Sorry for the lack of fics lately. I’ve been finishing up classes for the year, studying for an exam, and getting a job lol. Plus, a little family trip to Vegas last weekend. I hope y’all enjoy this one! Happy holidays!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

You’ve been gone on a business trip for four days and Natasha misses you like crazy.

She finally understands what it’s like to wait for her wife to come home as you waited for her all of those years. Nat counted down the days until she could see you again.

Your flight landed and she insisted on being at the airport even though you assured her you could get home by yourself. It was early in the morning so once she drove you home you fell into a deep slumber.

When you stir awake, Natasha is sitting up in bed next to you. She’s got a coffee in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Good morning, detka,” she says. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept okay,” you reply. “Still tired.”

She nods. You maneuver yourself over to place your head in her lap. Her soft, but strong fingers brush over your cheek.

“I’ve missed your beautiful face,” Natasha says, her voice barely above a whisper. She still gets a little shy with outright affection.

“I’ve missed you too, Natasha. What do you say we just stay in bed all day?”

“Hm,” Natasha begins. “We actually have some plans.”

“We?”

“Yeah. I made them on our behalf, but you know we’re a we. A package deal,” Nat explains.

She tries to read your expression. Maybe you’re too sleepy to read, she thinks. You just sigh and close your eyes.

“What are the plans?” You ask.

“Christmas lights with the team. Well, at least with Wanda, Steve, Sam, and Carol. They seem to be the most excited,” Natasha says.

“Carol is excited?” You ask in disbelief. She usually keeps her feelings to herself, but it’s a good sign she’s feeling like part of the team enough to be herself.

“She is. She reunited with Monica and some teenage girl that she’s bringing along. I’ll need to ask them how exactly they are connected, but yeah Carol is excited,” Natasha explains.

“Maybe I’m just tired but all of that sounds kind of insane.”

“That’s our line of work,” Nat says. “Are you ready to get up?”

“Lights happen at night,” you mumble, burying your face in Nat’s thighs.

“We’re having lunch with Yelena,” Nat says. “It’s the last time we’ll see her this year.”

You grumble and try to go back to sleep. Natasha chuckles at the way you cling to her.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. If you get too tired later we can always come back home and another type of fun,” Nat suggests.

“Oh,” you say. “Can we?”

You sit up and Natasha smirks. You’ve missed that expression.

“If we’re quick, we can probably do that right now too,” Natasha says. “What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want to show me how much you missed me, detka?”

God, was her voice always so enchanting or did you just miss her?

You find yourself nodding and leaning in to kiss Natasha. For the next 30 minutes, she welcomes you back home with fervor.

Once you get dressed, you leave to meet Yelena for lunch. Natasha brings her Christmas gift for her with you.

“You guys didn’t need to get me anything,” Yelena says. She begins to open it anyway.

“Oh, it’s fine. We-“ Natasha begins.

“Yes we did,” you interject. “You’re our family.”

You swear Yelena is about to cry, but Natasha cracks a joke about the gift effectively lightening the mood. You have no idea what the gift is honestly. Some kind of equipment for her missions.

“Thank you,” Yelena says. “I- um- I care about you both a lot.”

“I love you, Yelena. We love you,” Natasha says.

The affection from her sister makes Yelena begin to cry. Nat crosses the table and hugs her tight. You’re not sure who needed the hug more.

“Why don’t you stay with us for Christmas, Yel?” You ask her.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose on your holiday,” she replies.

Despite her usual confidence, she can be a little insecure about her place in your lives. Natasha drops a little kiss to her head. Her sister folds into her further.

“You’re never imposing. It’ll be fun. Right Nat?”

“Absolutely,” Nat says. “You’re staying. I’ve decided for you.” You all three laugh.

Later that evening, Yelena tags along to the Christmas lights with the team. Everyone is happy to see you and everyone really is excited to be there. Especially Carol.

The lights and the company are perfect, but eventually you look sleepy enough for Nat to excuse you to go home. She tucks you in bed and climbs in next to you.

“Goodnight, detka,” Nat says.

“Wait, we were going to-“

“Sleep,” Nat says. “There’s time for that tomorrow. I know you’re exhausted.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I love you, Natasha.”

“I love you, y/n.”

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: So I had to post this chapter in 2 parts because of how long it was and the formatting was weird otherwise. So here we are, and 2 part chapter! But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 2

Charlie eventually left after a few hours of convincing Sam and Dean that I would be absolutely fine infiltrating the club without them. At least at first. Some negotiations took place and after a while we all came to an agreement - I’d go in, scope the place out and unlock every door before leaving and letting the boys take over, handing over the intel on who everyone was and where they were stationed. This would make the kills less messy and reduce civilian casualties. Once this decision was made, we ate dinner before the guys went back upstairs to get as much information on the strip club as possible, whilst I went to finish the laundry from earlier.

I’d dropped Sam’s clothes off in his room before I headed Deans room to deposit his. Upon arriving, I twisted the handle and let myself in, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him before placing the neat stacks of clothing on his bed. Patting the top on the piles to ensure they wouldn’t topple over, I was turning to leave when something caught my eye. It was a pile of napkins and receipts crumpled up and tossed in the bin by the door - the same ones that made me feel so deflated earlier today. I smiled, feeling some semblance of relief course through me as I made my way upstairs again. As I walked I pondered; the Winchesters unknowing of the fact that I’d spent a short amount of time taking exotic dance classes. My ex boyfriend had paid for them so I could give him a ‘private show’ in cheap lingerie, and not to toot my own horn but I was pretty good at what I did back then so this should be a breeze. The only thing was that now I had a point to prove, and boy was I going to prove it.

I strode into the room where the boys were - Deans head in his hands and Sam’s face pressed to the inside of a book that was open on the table. He could have been asleep, if it wasn't for the fact that his eyes opened when I walked in. Without saying a word I grabbed an empty chair and set it in the middle of the room away from the desks and bookcases, making both men flinch at the abruptness.

“What are you doing?” Dean quizzed, lifting his head from his hands.

“Proving to you that I’m perfect for this case.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and I was unsure if he was catching on. I grabbed his phone from the table, unlocking it and finding the perfect song to play, settling on ‘Apocalyptic’ by Halestorm. At the start of the music he seemed to realise what was going on and he sat up eagerly, watching me intently as I undid my hair from its ponytail. I ruffled it up close to the roots, putting some volume in there as he went to stand up. I placed my fingertips on his chest and pushed gently, making him sit back down in his chair. I shook my head.

“Not you.”

He looked at me, puzzled; however his jaw dropped when I took Sam’s hand and urged him to stand. Sam had been paying minimal attention and just about knew what was going on when I gently pushed on his toned stomach, moving him backwards towards the chair in the middle of the room. I felt my heart do a small flip at the sheer size of the younger Winchester, this being my first time standing so close to him. And he smelt softer than Dean - less leather and gunpowder and more mint and fresh linens. I looked up at Sam through my lashes, watching his chest rise and fall more rapidly than before as he scanned my face. I smiled.

“Just relax, Sam. I Promise I don’t bite - at least not unless you want me to,” as the words left my lips I heard a SNAP and looked over at Dean, who’d now crushed the pencil he was using into splinters. I couldn’t help but smirk, starting to enjoy this perhaps a little more than I should. I pushed on Sam’s hips, urging him to sit, now in perfect view of his older brother. I stood in between Sam’s thighs and looked down at him, watching how his big eyes followed my hands as I slid them down over his shoulders and chest before running them back up again, tracing a single finger up over his Adam’s apple and tilting his chin up to look at me. The moment his eyes met mine his lips parted slightly and I leaned in close, so close that I could almost taste him. He let out the quietest groan and I whispered over his lips:

“I’ll try to make this enjoyable.”

I was bending over slightly, feeling my already very short skirt ride up. I sashayed around Sam, swaying my hips to the music and trailing my hands over his body with feather-light touches. Every time I did I felt him tense up or let out a small noise, especially when I crouched down behind the chair and slid myself underneath it, appearing between his legs and pushing myself up, my own legs straight and spread wide as I leant forwards. I now faced Dean, making eye contact with him as he watched me slide my hands up Sam’s thighs as I perched myself in his lap, swaying my hips as I pressed into him. I heard him suck in a breath at the contact, his manhood twitching in his jeans beneath the softness of my ass. I brought my knees and ankles together in a ladylike fashion before spreading them wide again, my legs pressing hard into the inside of Sam’s thighs. Deans knuckles went white as I ran my hands over my body and through my hair, biting my bottom lip sensually. Feeling Sam’s hands graze my knees, they slowly started to trail up my thighs as he snuck touches in where he could. My heart fluttered in my chest - his hands were already treating me far more gently than Deans did. I let him touch me for a few moments before I smacked his hands away and stood up. Spinning to face him I flipped my hair back, and slowly - oh so slowly - traced my hands down my own figure. As I outlined every curve I lowered myself so I was kneeling right before him - right between his legs that were spread wide like my own as my bare knees rested on the cold floor. I ghosted my hands up the inside of his thighs as he let out a shaky breath. I smiled up at him, but it seemed he was past the niceties as I noticed how dark his eyes had gone. I drew my hands back and spun around so I was now facing Dean whilst still nestled between Sam’s thighs. The older brother had pulled his chair out for a better view as his elbows rested on his knees as his large palms came together - as though in prayer - in front of his plump, kissable lips. He stared at me, unmoving and barely blinking, as though he were in a trance. Still on my knees, I threw Dean a coy grin before I placed my hands on the floor and walked them forwards, my ass now completely on show to Sam as my denim skirt did nothing to keep me covered. My back dipped in a feline manner as my chest came into contact with the floor, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that I would put money down that Dean loves this position for rough, pleasure-seeking sex. I hummed to myself at the thought of him fucking me into his mattress like this; one large, rough hand on my hip and the other propping himself up over me as he would moan my name and I would lose myself in his bedsheets.

I tore myself away from my daydream by sliding my hands forward so I was laying on my front before rolling onto my back, tilting my head back so I was looking at Dean upside down, my hair pooling around me. I gnawed on my bottom lip again as I planted both feet on the floor so my knees were bent and touching, before lifting one leg as gracefully as I could into the air and pointing my toes. Reaching my arms up, I gently touched my ankle and trailed my fingers over my leg, up my thigh - catching on my skirt and lifting it higher - along the soft skin of my exposed torso and over my breasts. I then dragged my fingers through my hair and over my scalp, my outstretched arms lifting my tank top a little - flashing Sam some braless underboob. I heard him moan and shuffle in his chair, however my eyes were still locked with Deans, and I watched as the older brother leant back and spread his legs a little wider, adjusting himself in his jeans as he laced his fingers together over his abdomen. Without missing a beat, I flipped myself back over onto my stomach and played the previous motions in reverse - sliding upwards so I was on all fours and then back to being just on my knees. I turned so I was facing Sam again, grinning at his hooded eyes and slack jaw as I placed my hands on his knees and pushed myself up to standing. I stepped around him slowly, my hands running down his broad shoulders as I moved to stand behind him. I leant down and whispered into his ear, his head dipping to the side slightly as my breath fanned out over his hot skin:

“Admit it, I’m perfect for the case.”

I watched his eyes flutter closed as he replied in a breathy voice.

“Yes… you’re perfect…” he paused, like he’d forgotten to finish his sentence, “…perfect for the case, I mean.”

I smiled as I stood up straight, catching Deans piercing gaze again.

“I’m going to bed - it’s been a long day. You boys should too,” my voice came out perhaps a little more sultry than I expected.

They both nodded, humming in response as I turned away, walking to my bedroom and leaving behind me at least one testosterone-field time bomb.

I’ll probably regret that whole ordeal in the morning

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Up Next:

Chapter 9

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Babysitter (3)

Falling Asleep On The Job

Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 3- W/c 3.6k

Falling Asleep On The Job

The cup of coffee warmed your hands while you sipped from it slowly, listening to Natasha as she talked about the class she just escaped from, Professor Harkness being her usual bitchy self according to your best friend.

"But at least I got to stare at Maria for almost an hour," she mumbled at the end, a chuckle leaving you at the amazement in her eyes when she thinks back to the blue-eyed beauty. "Anyway, enough about me, how's the babysitting job going?" You smile at the thought of your job, the last two weeks of looking after the boys passing like a blur, everyday full of fun and silly adventures.

"I love it," you sigh out contently, finger tracing the rim of the coffee cup, "The twins are perfect for me and actually really fun to play with." Natasha laughs with you, teasing you about finding better friends than her.

"What are their parents like?" she splits her chocolate chip muffin, handing you half knowing you wanted to have some without even needing to ask.

"Their father is well...He's a bit of a dick," you answer honestly, thinking back to every encounter you've had with the man. Vision is always either blunt, cold or dismissive of you and is extremely keen on leaving the house as soon as you arrive. Natasha merely grins at the small scowl that appears on your face while thinking of the man, taking a sip of her own coffee.

"What about their mother?" she asks, and you feel a slight blush form on your cheeks, "Oh so the mother is nice then," she jokes, you taking a bite of the muffin and ignoring her comments. "Oh, come on Y/n, spill."

"Fine," you grumble, fingers tapping against your cup now, a subconscious thing you do when you're happy. "Wanda is just amazing," you ignore the insinuating look your best friend is giving you and continue, "She is so kind and caring all the time, makes sure I'm alright and is just a perfect mother to the twins."

"It seems like you finally have a crush," she teases, knowing you're not the kind to fall for many people, too scared of the consequences.

"It's not a crush," you dismiss, taking a bite of the muffin, Natasha chuckling at how quick you were to deny her comment. "I can't have a crush on her anyway, she's married with children in case you forgot."

"That doesn't stop you from being able to like her," she counters, and you just retort to stealing her half of the muffin to shut her up. "Cyka," she mutters, you smile innocently at her with your mouth full of her treat. "You can pay me for that."

"No, I won't," you joke back, "You love me too much to charge me for a muffin." She shakes her head at you, laughter tumbling out of your mouth as she grumbles something else in Russian. You simply sit there looking at each other for a few moments, basking in the comfortable silence before she speaks up.

"How's everything at home at the moment?" her tone is not pushing as she knows it's a sensitive topic for you. Your gaze flickers down to the table, staring at the wood patterns, each swirl and darker tone standing out to you.

"The usual," you say, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of your coffee again, the warm liquid helping with the lump forming in your throat. "I haven't spoken to her properly for a few days, she's either at work or passed out so..." Natasha moves to sit next to you in the booth of the cafe, letting you lean your head on her shoulder as she can tell you don't want to talk about it anymore.

"The offer is always there, Y/n," she softly says, "You know Melina and Alexie would love to have to stay at ours," you smile at her but shake your head.

"I can't just leave her Nat, I know she's not perfect but I'm all she has," her arm then wraps around you, letting the conversation die out when you rest your head back against her shoulder and stare out the window. Your eyes follow the people passing by, poking Natasha's ribs and making her look when a dog like Fanny walks past with its owner.

"I can't believe you guys let Yelena name the dog," you chuckle out, Natasha groaning as you always tease her about this.

"It's her dog Y/n," she mumbles, "And how was I supposed to know she'd name it Fanny Longbottom." You bark out a laugh at the name, unable to help yourself and almost falling over when she playfully pushes your head off her body.

"Cyka," you say, trying to copy her Russian but your pronunciation is not the best, making her laugh. Natasha goes to say something in return but is interrupted when your phone starts to ring. The name Wanda flashes across your screen, the redhead smirking at the way your lips tug up into a small smile.

"Hello?" you answer the phone, Natasha moving back to the seat across from you and continuing to drink her coffee.

"Hey Y/n," Wanda's voice rings through the phone as you place it near your ear to talk to her, not putting in on speaker as you just know Natasha would try something while you speak to the older woman, "I know we said you could have today off, but Vision has just called me saying he has some emergency meeting he needs to attend to." You listen and look over to your best friend who's looking at you curiously, "Is there any chance you could look after the twins until he comes home? I'm sorry, I know how out of the blue this is and understand if you can't."

"What time would I need to be there?" you mouth 'babysitting' to Nat, her nodding her head in understanding, smiling at the apologetic look on your face.

"As soon as you can," you plan the journey in your head, trying to figure out what buses you would need to get to reach their house quickly.

"I can do it but it might take me a while to get there depending on the buses," Natasha grins at you before making a whipping gesture at you, a pained noise escaping her when you kick her shin under the table. "What time would Vision or you be back?"

"Well, I'm currently out of Westview on a work trip and just coming back from my parents so I won't be back until after twelve, Vision on the other hand said around six or seven."

"That's fine then, I'll start heading over there now," Natasha helps you put away the work you two were doing before you both got side tracked.

"Thank you, sweetheart," A smile takes over your face at her term of endearment before you both say goodbye.

"I'm sorry Nat-"

"Don't apologise," she cuts you off. "Go and have fun with your other friends," she jokes, giving you a hug and letting you get on your way to the Maximoff's residence.

***

Panting slightly, you ring the bell and try and catch your breath, running all the way from the bus stop as it started to rain, your hair and jumper now drenched. Within seconds, the door opens, an impatient and unhappy Vision standing at the doorway.

"You're late," is all he says before grabbing his own coat and making his way out of the house. You don't even bother making a comment to him, accepting the fact that he's definitely got something shoved so far up his arse that makes him act like a dick.

You take your shoes off, not wanting to trample dirt and water into the home and walk into the living room to see Tommy playing Mario Kart and Billy sat on the sofa watching his brother, seemingly lost in thought with a sad expression.

"Hey mini Maximoffs," you call out, slicking your hair back and deciding that the warmth of this house will quickly dry it. Tommy's face lights up at the sight of you, Billy only smiling a little making you concerned. You drop your backpack off at the table before sitting with Billy, wrapping an arm around him and letting him lean against you. "What's wrong Billy?" Your voice is soft as you speak to him, his shoulders shrugging as he stays quiet, his gaze lowering to the floor. "Come on," you stand up, motioning your head for him to follow you while his brother is preoccupied with his game.

You walk to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water while Billy takes a seat at the kitchen island, placing his hands on his cheeks as he looks at you.

"I can tell something's bothering you, ok?" you say calmly, sitting next to him and mirroring his body language, arm propping your head up. "I'm not going to make you tell me if you don't want to, but I just want you to know you can talk to me if you need to, alright?" He slowly nods at you, pondering for a minute while his mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words he wants to say.

"Is...Is it bad for a boy to like drawing?" his voice is quiet while he looks away from you, fingers playing with one another.

"What? Of course it's not," your brows furrow at his question, "Boy can draw if they want to, anyone can." You try to explain him looking back at you with a confused look.

"But my dad said boys shouldn't like to draw," You see red for a second, imagining Vision telling Billy false things, especially when it involves something he likes. "He said it's a waste of time and I should like things like science or sports."

"Your father is wrong, Billy," you don't want to go against one of your bosses but when it comes to crushing this little boy's heart you don't care. "Just because you're a boy that doesn't mean you have to like certain stuff, you can do whatever you want as long as it makes you happy," you see a smile starting to form on his face again. "Also, as long as it's legal," he lets out a chuckle at that.

"Can we draw some things now?" hope starts to surface in his eyes and who were you to deny him.

"Of course we can, go and grab your things and bring them into the living room," he runs off to his room while you go back to where Tommy was.

Soon enough, you have Billy drawing at a small table while you play against Tommy at Mario Kart, swallowing your pride and letting him win a few games to make him cheer. When the track Rainbow Road comes up, you pull a face, remembering how horrible this track was when you would play it with your father.

"I'm so going to beat you Y/n," Tommy teases, sitting upright and focusing hard on the screen as the countdown shows.

"Bring it on Maximoff," you retort, a competitive nature overtaking you. The game is neck and neck as you both complete your laps, the race coming down to the wire as you take the lead. Just as you're about to celebrate, a red shell hits your car, your character spinning out while Tommy's drives past and wins the race, jumping up off the sofa in joy.

"I win!" he exclaims, sticking his tongue out at you making you laugh and roll your eyes.

"Cheap move Maximoff, cheap move," you grumble, placing down the controller and walking over to Billy, checking how his drawing was before making your way back into their kitchen.

Your eyes check the clock, seeing it just gone past half six and decide to make their dinner as you don't want Vision to come back soon and complain. Flicking through cupboards and the fridge, you decide the only thing you're going to have time to make is a simple dish of chicken nuggets and chips.

While preparing the food, as in putting in on a tray to put in the oven, the twins come in to ask what's for dinner, their eyes lighting up at the dinosaur shaped nuggets that you were putting in to cook.

"Thank you, Y/n," the twins say at the same time, freaking you out a little but you brush it aside as you hand them both their plates and sit with them, eating your own plate of food. Biting the head off the poor dinosaur you chose to eat, your eyes widened at the random questions that were thrown your way from either twin. You tried your best to answer them, the question of 'how were we made' making you choke on your chip before you stuttered out that you didn't know.

After the eventful conversation finished, you let the boys digest their food before sending them for their showers and telling them to get dressed in their pyjamas. Billy came down in his red and navy set of pjs while his brother came down in a matching sky blue and green set. The three of you then sat watching one more episode of a cartoon they were watching, you check your phone to see the time and frowning when you see it's half eight. You replied to the few messages Natasha sent, her asking you about your 'dreamy boss' and teasing you more before you decided it was time to get the boys in bed.

"Thank you for tonight Y/n," Billy says while you tuck him into bed, making sure he was snug in his duvet before pulling away.

"No problem, Billy," you whisper, "Remember if you ever want to talk, I'm also here for you." He nods and lets you go over to his brother, tucking him in and chuckling when he starts to say he's too old for it.

"I guess I'll just go now then," you tease, slowly walking away from him, his eyes widening.

"Wait no," his voice a little panicked, "You can still tuck me in if you want to." Chuckling, you move back to tuck him in, ruffling his hair a little before saying goodnight to them both and heading downstairs.

You let out a tired sigh, glancing over to the clock and seeing it was past nine, a little confused as to where Vision was. You send Wanda a message, asking if she knows when Vision will be home and decide to try and finish some of the schoolwork that's in your bag.

Psychology work stares back at you while you glare at the paper, the abundance of information you're meant to be learning not wanting to stay in your mind. Flashcards are soon filled with notes as you try and learn the topic for the test you will be having in Mr Wilson's class in a few days, your eyes growing heavy while you look over the notes once again. Before you know it, you're placing your head down on your arms, resting your eyes for a minute that soon becomes longer than intended.

***

Just after midnight, the front door of the Maximoff residence opens to reveal a very drained Wanda, her hand running through her auburn locks as she leans against the door after closing it. A tired and defeated sigh leaves her lips, exhausted after the long drive from her work trip and ready to just climb into bed and let sleep overtake her.

With the last bit of energy she has, she pushes herself off the door, waking up when she sees the sight of your shoes near the entrance and walks through her home. She tosses her phone onto the side table, the item useless as it died a few hours ago, and searches for you or her husband. Wanda pauses when she sees you, confused as to why you're still here but also concerned as you're slouched over the table, the position definitely going to give you a sore back.

"Sweetheart," she whispers, gently rubbing up and down your back, trying to stir you awake. In response, you just let out a sleepy noise, Wanda's face softening at how peaceful you look, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted as gentle, quiet snores leave your lips. "Come on dear, wake up for me," she tries again, shaking you a little bit to try and get you to wake up.

"Mum?" you murmur, waking up gradually and moving to rub your eyes, back cracking as you stretch.

"Not your mum sweetheart," you hear a voice say, not comprehending it for a moment before your eyes widen when you realise who it is.

"Wanda, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep-"

"Hush dear it's alright," she says softly, "It's past midnight, if you weren't asleep, I would have been worried." You flush at the way she's looking down at you, her hands still running up and down your back soothingly. "Is Vision not home?" she asks, her tone more serious than before making you blink your eyes to try and fully wake up.

"Uh, no?" you look away from her trying to think, not noticing how her jaw clenches at the news. "He wasn't home before I fell asleep, that was probably around ten?" you look at her with a shy look, still embarrassed that you fell asleep at their table. "I messaged you earlier about asking where he was, did you not get it?"

"My phone died a while ago dear," she explains, moving her hands to your shoulder and giving it a gentle and assuring squeeze. "I'm sorry you had to stay here so long," she sighs out, moving to sit next to you, her hands moving off you making you miss her touch.

"I didn't mind it," the tone of your voice genuine, "But I am so tired," you honestly say, stretching once again. "Morning classes are practically child abuse," you mutter, her laughing and remembering how she felt all those years ago when she was in your position.

"Oh god, they were absolute hell," she reminisces on her college life, thinking back to the early mornings and grumpy lecturers. "What did you have this morning?" Despite both of you being so exhausted, Wanda found it easy to talk with you, wanting to stay up a little longer just so she could find out more about you.

"Psychology," you practically groan, "Mr Wilson decided to set another test, so I've been trying to learn it all, but it just won't stay in my brain." Wanda can hear the hint of stress in your voice and places her hand on top of yours, your eyes not meeting hers and skin feeling warm wherever she touches.

"Hey, look at me," your gaze immediately catches her, her green eyes almost overwhelming you with care, "Don't try and force yourself to learn things otherwise you'll just burn out."

"That doesn't matter, I need to pass this test-"

"Don't say that," her hand squeezes yours, "You need to take care of yourself, ok?" You refuse to meet her gaze once again making her speak up, "Can you do that for me Y/n?"

"Yeah," you whisper, giving her a small smile, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me dear," her tone motherly, "Now, do you want to crash here in a guest room?"

"I need to get back home," you considered her offer for a moment but remembered your morning class tomorrow, well today as it was early in the morning, and did not fancy travelling to the college from here. "I just need to find out what buses are still running-"

"I'm not letting you get a bus at this time," her voice leaves no room for arguing, "What would your mother say if I let you do that?"

"Probably nothing," you mutter, Wanda not able to hear the comment. "I need to get home though."

"I'll take you home then," she stands up, moving to grab a glass of water to drink before she drives you back.

"What about the twins? You can't leave them alone," as soon as the words left your lips the front door opened, Vision entered the house, face paling at the look Wanda was giving him, her head tilting to the side slightly.

"Vision can stay with them while I take you home," she states, Vision lowering his head as he walks up the stairs of the house, Wanda helping you put all your things away and walking you to her car. You climb into the red vehicle, Wanda following suit and motioning for you to enter your address in the sat nav.

The drive is only about twenty minutes but the whole journey passed in a blur, you just enjoying the company of the older woman. She assured you many times that she didn't mind taking you home, wanting to make sure you got there safely. During the drive you occasionally glance over at her, admiring her side profile and noticing how her fingers drummed against the steering wheel to the beat of the music playing.

"This is it," you say, a little embarrassed, your apartment block is nothing in comparison to her house. "Thank you once again Wanda for the ride," you turn to her, a smile gracing your lips.

"No problem, dear," her eyes look over at your building before returning back to you, "Have a good night, Y/n," she calls out when you start to climb out of the car, grabbing your backpack from the backseats.

"You too Wanda," your hands hold your bag strap, Wanda's heart melting how cute you look before shaking the thought away. "Get home safely," you tease, copying her words from whenever she walks you to the door after babysitting.

"See you soon Y/n," she says while you open the door to the building, putting her car in reverse and heading back home with you on her mind.

---

As a brit, Yelena naming the dog Fanny will forever been funny

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3 I really appreciate them!

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

[onlymingyus]

Guilty (teaser)

pairing; kwon soonyoung x f reader / lee jihoon x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, toxic, fluff

summary; you and soonyoung learn that the storm can only be weathered for so long before you need a lift raft to hold on to. but what happens when neither of you reach for each other in that storm?

warnings; cheating, toxic relationship dynamics, car accident, injuries, hospital, arguing, eating/drinking, pet names, crying (from pleasure and sadness), unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving/giving), fingering, marking/biting, impact, dom!jihoon, dirty talk, less than ideal sexual experiences, i mean...there is just a lot -- i probably missed something.

w/c; 23.6k ( 1.3k and some change -- this teaser)

a/n; thank you so so much to my @onlyhuis for proofreading and being my rock while i wrote this bitch. this one was out of my comfort zone but i really wanted to try to dive into angst and something a bit more toxic with my plot. i hope you enjoy it.

this fic will be released sunday 4/14 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

3 missed calls from Soonyoung❣️

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you sigh at the notification on your lock screen, thinking about the number of times you had tried to call him the day before only to get his voicemail. You think about the number of text messages that you have sent as you unlock your screen, looking at the four messages waiting for you. 

When Soonyoung told you about his job opportunity, you were excited for him. Dancing was his life and his biggest passion, with teaching coming in as a close second. The main drawback of the job offer was that he would be gone for a year and be in another country. 

Promises had been made to one another in an attempt to make the distance easier. You both promised to visit when you could and to keep in touch every single day. Things were easier said than done, it would seem. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I got in late. 

Soonyoung ❣️: I know you are going to be mad at me. 

Soonyoung ❣️: Call me when you wake up

Soonyoung ❣️: Love you 

You sigh, laying your phone down next to you after reading over the messages. Lately, they were all starting to look the same. There was always a “I got in late” message waiting for you and a “call me when you wake up" message waiting for you after a day of trying to keep in touch on your part. You knew he was working hard, but so were you. 

Sliding out of bed, your phone in tow, you leave it on the counter as you turn on the shower, letting the bathroom fill up with steam. It wasn’t like Soonyoung would know the exact moment you woke up anyway. He barely remembered the local time anymore, much less your schedule. He had made you wait. Now he could wait. 

Soonyoung knew he should be asleep. He had to wake up early to get to the studio but he was staring at his phone and hoping you would call him. He had checked the time back home at least five times and it was a Tuesday, which meant you had to get ready for work soon. 

Sighing loudly, Soonyoung scrolls back through the text messages that he had missed from you throughout the day. He hadn’t meant to ignore you; he never did. Time wasn’t his greatest ally lately and long days had turned into even longer nights. 

Y/N 😘: Hope you are having a good day babe 

Y/N 😘: Missing you 

Y/N 😘: Hope class has gone well. You are amazing ❣️

Y/N 😘: I’m going to bed 

Y/N 😘: Hope I get to talk to you tomorrow. I love you 

Kicking his legs out from under the covers, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the headboard. He groans under his breath as he gives in to his impatience, pressing down on your name and placing the phone up to his ear to listen to it ring. One ring, two rings, a third, and then your sweet voice tells him that you can’t come to the phone. Were you ignoring him? 

The sound of your ringtone makes you furrow your brows, your eyes closed, as water runs down your face towards your lips. You were almost done with your shower but you were almost certain you weren’t hearing things, especially when your phone rings for a second time. Wiping the water from your face, you rush to get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you, just as the second call from Soonyoung goes unanswered. 

He had begun to turn over, a scowl on his face, when his phone lit up with a picture of your face. Staring at his phone for a few seconds, Soonyoung presses his tongue against his cheek before finally answering. 

“Hello?”

You could hear the disappointment in Soonyoung’s voice and for a split second, you felt a pang of guilt. You forget about the number of calls that went unanswered the day before as you lean against the counter with a frown on your face. 

“Hey, sorry, I was in the shower.” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung also seems to forget how bad he felt about missing your calls and not responding to your text until late. Instead, he just thinks about himself and what he is feeling at the moment: frustration. 

“Yeah, well, I asked for you to call me when you woke up, but I guess you didn’t check your phone.”  

Looking down as water drips onto the tile, you feel Soonyoung’s words eat at your heart until you remember waking up and seeing your own messages from the day before. You remember listening to his voicemail time and time again, as you hoped he would pick up the phone even for a moment to say something to you. 

“I did check it.” 

Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung is taken aback by your sudden shift in attitude towards him. He had expected an apology and maybe your sweet, comforting voice to lull him to sleep but clearly that wasn’t happening. 

“Oh? So you chose to ignore my messages and calls?” 

“Like you chose to ignore mine, Soonyoung? Seriously…” 

Your voice trails off as tears begin to well up in your eyes. There had been too many days recently that had started much like this one. You wanted to talk to your boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, how much you loved him, and how proud of him you were that he was living his dream, but instead the two of you ended up in an argument. 

Swallowing hard, Soonyoung closes his eyes as he sits up in his bed, running his fingers through his hair and listening to the sounds of your breath through the phone. He could tell you were crying. He had heard it enough times over the phone at this point to know exactly what it sounded like. 

Now he was remembering seeing his phone light up throughout the day and checking it to see another missed call or text message from you. He remembered promising himself to call you back on the next break, only to get into a conversation with someone and lose track of time. 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung hears a soft sob over the phone as he looks out of his window at the dark skyline of the city, knowing the sun was still rising where you were. He would give anything to be there with you now, to be able to hold you and to make this better but instead he was on the other side of the world and it felt like he might as well be on another planet. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I–look, I don’t know what is wrong with me. It was a long day and when you didn’t answer my brain, just–” Shaking his head, Soonyoung stops to take a breath, deciding to stop giving you excuses. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much.” 

This was the part when you would normally fold and tell him how much you loved him and forgive him. You always forgave Soonyoung because he was working so hard and you knew it was important but you were starting to feel like you were less important. Wiping your cheek with your free hand, you shake your head and bite at your bottom lip as Soonyoung whines your name when you don’t speak to him right away. 

“I have to get ready for work. I love you too. I hope you get some sleep.” 

Closing his eyes, Soonyoung lets out a breath, feeling his heart sink at your words. You hadn’t accepted his apology and you hadn’t wanted to hear his excuses. You just wanted off the phone, and at this point, he couldn’t blame you. 

“I–yeah, sure. Have a good day, babe.” 

The sound of the call ending before you even say goodbye is what stuns Soonyoung the most. Dropping the phone into his lap, he stares at it for a moment, your picture looking at him from his lockscreen before the display goes dark. 

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