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delugyu · 6 months ago

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cold, cursed city (part 1)

part 1 / part 2

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

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

word count: 25.1k

tags: angst, smut (MDNI), best friend and roommate!beomgyu, reader has a crush on soobin, chaewon is reader’s other bestie, so much possessiveness and jealousy, beomgyu is extremely clingy, manipulation, lying, arguments, a lot of crying, guilt

smut tags: multiple smut scenes lol (2 in this part), switch!gyu, switch!reader, guided & mutual masturbation, dry humping, praise, little bit of degradation, nipple play, very desperate gyu, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f rec), dacryphilia?, pet names (angel, pretty girl, baby, etc)

notes: finally releasing this monster from its prison cell (my google docs). been working on this for a month because whiny possessive best friend gyu has been haunting me every day… anyway i hope u guys enjoy, and lmk what u think!

You hated the walk back to your apartment in the winter. It’s always so cold, and certain paths are always so icy. But you have no choice, and you’re fortunate enough that your job is only a ten minute walk away. It’s snowing today, though, hard enough to make you take each step with caution.

The wind whips across your face, making you squint to protect your eyes. You make it all of two minutes before giving up and going into the nearest public establishment you walk by, which happens to be your city’s library. You catch your breath as soon as you enter the building, taking off your jacket and folding it in your arms. You walk around slowly, looking for a comfortable chair to rest on. It’s unsurprisingly very quiet in the building. All you can hear is people typing on keyboards and hushed conversations every now and then. Everyone looks busy here.

You find a secluded area in the back corner of the library with three lounge chairs. You rush to take a seat there, letting out a sigh of relief as you sink into it. It’s right next to a heater, too. The yellow lights are soft and warm above you. You look out the window, watching the snow rage on. Now that you’re able to see clearly, you notice how there’s a good four inches on the ground. There’s a few people passing by here and there, but the streets are mostly empty. Even the cars are few and far between.

You fish your phone out of the pocket of your abandoned jacket to call Beomgyu. He should probably know that you’ll be back later than usual. By the looks of it, you could be waiting in this library for another hour.

“Hiii,” he says. You can hear his smile in his voice, and it makes you light up.

“Hi Gyu. Did you see the storm outside?” you ask, voice hushed so as to not disturb anyone. You don’t think he had work today, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed home all day, unaware of the weather.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to get six inches or something. Are you on your way back?”

You groan, “I was, but the wind is ridiculous right now. I had to take shelter in some library.”

He laughs at you. “Should I pick you up?”

“I don’t think you should be driving right now honestly,” you answer.

“It’s gonna get dark if you wait it out though,” he reasons. “I’ll pick you up, I don’t mind.” You hear the jingle of his car keys when he grabs them.

“No, don’t, you can just pick me up once all the roads are safe,” you offer instead. “You know you’re not a good enough driver to handle this weather.”

“Wow. I’m gonna drive through it just to prove I can now,” he says.

“Then the next time I see your face will be in some news article explaining the crash,” you snide.

“No, it’ll be an article about all the sick wheelies and 360s I did despite the storm.”

“Yeah right,” you laugh. “How are you even gonna do that with your shitbox?” You realize you’ve been talking a little loud when you see someone’s head whip over at you. You sink into your seat in mild embarrassment.

“I’m so good I could figure out a way to make this car fly.” You roll your eyes even though he can’t see it.

“Oh I’m sure,” you say. “Alright, I’ll call you back when you can pick me up. I’m just gonna chill here ‘til then.”

“Okay. Hope they plow the roads so my shitty driving doesn’t kill us,” he says, and you know he’s doing that stupid sarcastic pout.

“You’re such a drama queen,” you reply.

“You love it.”

“I guess I wouldn’t put up with it for so long if I didn’t.” You take another look out the window to check the weather. The wind calmed down a little, but not enough to go back out. Plus, you’re comfortable right now. “Well, I’ll see you, Gyu.”

“See ya.”

As soon as the call ends, you relax further into the lounge chair. Your posture is horrid, with your back being more on the seat than it is on the back of the chair, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Work was awful today: your boss scolded you about missing paperwork, a potential partnership with another company fell through, and your coworker wouldn’t stop talking about her family problems on your lunch break. Thank God tomorrow’s Friday.

You’re scrolling through Instagram when you notice a tall figure coming into your field of vision from over your phone screen. You look up and realize he’s coming closer to you. Your eyes widen for a second in panic, and you scramble to straighten your back out and look more presentable. You worry that perhaps this is a worker about to kick you out. Why? You don’t know. Maybe you’re about to find out.

You look innocently up at the man as he finishes crossing the few steps it takes to reach you. You try to ignore how cute he is. And tall. And sexy. And really, really tall—did you say tall? He’s so attractive and so your type.

“Hey, I’m sorry, could I sit here?” he ends up asking. He points to the chair furthest from you, since you took the right-most chair of the three. You’re a little stunned for a second, then you remember you have to talk.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, nodding quickly.

“Thank you. All the tables were taken,” he explains quietly, putting a bag down beside his chair.

“I know, it’s weird to see a library so full,” you say. He takes his laptop out of his bag and opens it on his lap. You think you might be watching him too closely, so you snap your head in another direction. There really is no empty table, you note as you look at all the people in the library.

“Normally it’s not. It must be because of the weather,” the man explains. You look back at him when he speaks, and a small smile finds its way onto your face when you see his bunny-like features. You’re never the type to ogle at someone like this, but he’s seriously so pretty. You can’t help it.

“I mean, I’m only in here because of the weather, so I believe it,” you say. The man smiles. You swoon.

“Makes sense. I’d remember if I’d seen you before.”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

The man looks down at his laptop, as if he can’t look you in the eye when he speaks next. “Ah, no reason. I-I’m normally good with faces.”

He’s adorable. You figure this is how you can pass time until the storm is over.

“So you come here a lot?” you ask. You hope you’re not annoying him with all the conversation, but he seems happy to respond.

“I do my work here pretty much every day. I like it better than doing it from my home,” he answers.

“Oh wow, you work remotely?”

“Yep, and I get to choose my hours too. It’s a perk of the job.” He starts typing something on his laptop. You watch his diligent fingers fly across the keyboard. He has big hands. Your head is reeling a little.

“I wish my job was like that,” you say. “Well, I’ll let you work now. I don’t want to distract you.” You relax back into your chair, not realizing how close you’ve been leaning in during the conversation.

“No, I honestly like the conversation! It makes the time go by faster,” he rushes to say. You perk back up and can’t control how you beam. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear.

“I’ll make sure to keep talking in that case,” you giggle. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Soobin,” he introduces, looking into your eyes kindly.

You tell him your name. “Nice to meet you,” you say.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“So, what exactly do you do for work?” you ask. You’re surprised at how well he can focus on the conversation and on his work. It’s impossible for you to multitask like that.

“I do software engineering for an insurance company. We just finished a major project a couple days ago, so there’s not a ton to do for the rest of the week.”

“Damn, sounds like there’s money in that.”

He laughs, “I guess so.”

“My job’s a lot less interesting than that,” you start, going on to explain your position, then about the mess of today at work, and your conversation with Soobin flows from anything to everything until you remember that Beomgyu’s waiting to pick you up. You look out the window to monitor the weather. It looks like the snow has long since stopped. The streets are plowed, only illuminated by the streetlights since it’s gotten so dark. You find yourself disappointed to have to cut the evening so short.

“Are you leaving already?” Soobin asks.

“Yeah, my friend’s gonna pick me up.” When you unlock your phone, you find that Beomgyu’s already texted you a couple times. You also find that it’s been an hour and a half since you last called him. Holy shit, the time really did fly. You open his messages to read what he sent.

[Beomgyu] are u readyyyyy

[Beomgyu] ANSWER ME WHERED U GO

You call him, and he picks up after only the first ring.

“Finally,” he said. “You had me thinking you started going back on your own or something and died.”

“Pfft, you think so lowly of my survival skills,” you respond. “You should head out now before I lose any beauty sleep.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” he jokes. You hear him grab his stuff and shut the door behind him. “I hate parallel parking so just wait for me in front of the building, I’ll pull up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Gyu~” you say sweetly.

“Mhm, see you,” he says.

“See you.”

The drive is only a few minutes. You should probably head out front now. You look back to Soobin.

“Hey, thanks for the conversation,” you say. “Made my shitty day a little better.”

“Same here,” Soobin agrees. He watches you put on your coat, getting ready to leave. You don’t think he has it in him to make the next move, so you do it instead.

“You know, it would be a shame if I had to leave right now without your number…” You blush as you say it, looking off meekly for just a second, then back to him to see him giggling. (You? Make him? Giggle? Fucking score!!!)

He motions for your phone with his hand. You can’t wipe the grin off your face as you open a new contact page. You watch him insert his information.

“Let’s meet again soon,” he suggests when he hands his phone back to you.

You nod. “I’ll be in contact,” you say and wave your phone in your hand. Perhaps you’ll be making more stops to the library now.

You seem to exit the library at the same time Beomgyu arrives. You get into his car quickly to avoid the cold weather, shivering once you enter the car.

“Why isn’t your heater on?” you ask, fiddling with the buttons on the dash to turn on the heat.

“My heater barely works. It won’t even kick in before we get back home,” he explains, shutting the heat off again. You make a face at him.

“Then drive, I’m freezing,” you insist.

“I’m on it boss.” He gives you a salute.

His music plays quietly in the background of the ride. He has a nice taste in music, the type fitting for night drives.

“What’d you do today?” you ask him.

“Play League,” he says. You laugh at him, and he looks away from the road for a second to smile at you. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Why do you always make me decide?” you complain.

“Cause I don’t know what I want.”

“I don’t know what you want either, you always reject my choices.”

It’s a short drive to your apartment complex, so you arrive quickly. You rush to get inside once Beomgyu’s car is parked. The moment you open the door to your apartment, you fall flat onto the couch. You don’t care how your face digs into the cushion, it just feels nice to alleviate the day’s stress.

Beomgyu follows behind not long after. “Damn, you ran here,” he remarks. He stays at the door for a minute, probably putting all his stuff away, before he approaches you. You feel him taking your boots off your feet, which you forgot to do in your haste.

“Thanks,” you murmur into the couch cushion.

“You’re welcome.” He leaves you for a moment to put your shoes on the shoe rack by the door. When he comes back to you, he’s sliding your jacket off your arms. He folds it sloppily and plops it on the coffee table.

You turn your head so it’s facing him instead of being pressed into the couch. “What’d you decide for dinner?” you ask him.

He laughs. “Wasn’t that your job?”

“No.” You sit up with great effort. He sits on the other side of the couch and extends his legs out. You freak out when he rests his feet on you. “Nasty!!”

“I got socks on!” he exclaims in defense. You slap his feet away until he gives up and tucks his legs into his body.

“What time is it?” you ask.

Beomgyu checks his phone. “Seven.”

“I’m too tired to cook anything,” you say.

“I think we have leftovers we can just heat up,” he says, then gets up to look in the fridge and make sure. He holds a container out to you. “You want?”

Looks good enough. “Yeah,” you answer. He closes the fridge and grabs two plates.

“I’m so nice, cooking for you,” he says, portioning the food between your plates. “How long do I nuke it for?”

“Try two minutes.”

The rest of the night follows like any other: you eat dinner with Beomgyu, you watch a little TV, you get ready for bed, then you sleep. You hope a certain tall, attractive man visits you in your dreams tonight.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you walk back home from work the next day, it’s considerably better in terms of weather. Your eyes linger on the library as you pass it by, and your hand twitches around your phone. Soobin still hasn’t texted you. You’re a little disappointed, honestly. Every notification you received throughout the day made you light up, thinking it might be him. You might just put your pride aside and text him yourself at this point. You even think about walking back and waiting in the library for him, but then you’d just look weird.

When you get back home, Beomgyu isn’t there. His work schedule is so inconsistent, you never know when to expect him. He’s not a 9-5 worker like you, so you suppose that’s where the difference in flexibility comes in.

You lean against the kitchen counter and find Soobin’s contact on your phone. You open a new conversation with him, excited to talk again. You don’t think too much about your messages before you send them.

Hiiii

It’s the girl from the library

You shut your phone off after, not expecting an answer for a while. You turn on your playlist and busy yourself with getting undressed, wiping off your makeup, and showering. You go back to the kitchen once you’re finished to figure out what you’re gonna make yourself for dinner. As you’re gathering a list of ingredients in your head, your phone vibrates on the counter. You grin as you rush to look at the messages, making sure not to open the chat immediately though.

[Soobin] Hi! I’m glad you didn’t forget about me

You find yourself giggling at the message. You’ll respond in a few minutes, not wanting to seem desperate by opening it right away. You pass the time by taking out some ingredients for the meal you’ll make tonight. As you wait for your veggies to steam, you decide that now you can answer Soobin.

Forget you? How could I?

Hehehe

Wyd??

You’re in a very chipper mood, swaying around as you stir your vegetables and decide they’ve softened enough. You hum the tune of a song while you add noodles into a pot of boiling water. Your phone buzzes when you’re in the middle of making the sauce, so you try to hasten your movements. You finish pouring everything in, giving it a quick stir and making sure the heat is on low before running to your phone.

[Soobin] Drinking and watching TV lol

[Soobin] How about you?

You take a picture of your stovetop, sending your work in progress to him.

Working on my culinary creations

You’re done making your meal when he replies to that.

[Soobin] Looks yummy

You laugh and open your camera, taking a picture to send of the plated meal. You type your response immediately, not caring about waiting a few minutes between anymore.

Tastes decent

It seems he doesn’t care to wait to respond to you either, cause his next text is immediate.

[Soobin] Woah five stars

Your conversation fizzles out not long after, but you feel satisfied with it. Even as you clean your dishes, your smile doesn’t leave your face. You almost forgot how exciting it is to have a crush.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The next time you see Soobin is Monday after work at the library. You offered to hang out with him as he works, and he seemed more than happy to accept. He even asked for your coffee order so that he could bring you a cup. You need the caffeine after such a tiring day at work, you don’t care if it keeps you up until midnight. The coffee’s still hot, but not scalding, when you arrive. You take a seat in the same chair you sat in when you first met.

“Thank you for the coffee,” you say, using the disposable cup to warm your hands. Your face still burns from how cold the walk here was.

“Of course,” he replies. “How was work today?”

You shrug. “Not much to do. I almost fell asleep at my desk. What’s on your agenda for the day?”

You pretend to understand the techy language he spews back at you when he answers. You take a sip of your coffee, humming in appreciation at the taste.

“Where do you get your coffee from? This place does it so good,” you ask, trying to look at the cup for a logo.

“Actually, I get it from a cat cafe near where I live,” he answers. You gasp and look at him in awe.

“What?! Is it new? How have I never heard of it?” You always wanted to go to a cat cafe. Their delicious coffee is just a bonus.

“I don’t think it’s new, but it’s kind of secluded, and the sign is small, so it’s easy to miss.”

“You have to bring me sometime,” you insist.

“Noted,” he laughs.

It gets quiet when Soobin starts focusing on his work, which you don’t mind. You look around the library, taking in the atmosphere. Soobin was right, there are way less people here today than there were on the night of the storm. The library is warm and nice and never loses power, so it’s not a bad place to turn to, you suppose.

You turn on your phone and find a text notification from Beomgyu. You open it.

[Beomgyu] are u on ur way back

You usually tell him when you won’t be back after work, but you guess you forgot to this time. It’s reasonable for him to ask, since you’d be back home by now on a regular day. You explain yourself in a text message back.

No lol

I’m out with somebody rn

I’ll be back for dinner

[Beomgyu] nooo don’t make me cook

You snicker at his response.

Okay I’ll pick up something on my way back

[Beomgyu] muahahaha yessss

[Beomgyu] who are u with?

You think for a moment on how to answer the question. You don’t want to tell Beomgyu about a guy you’re only just starting to see. He’ll flood you with questions that you don’t want to deal with if this ends up going nowhere.

A friend you don’t know lol

You put your phone down when Soobin starts talking to you again. It’s so easy to sink into conversation with him. You find yourself asking most of the questions, liking his eagerness to explain little things about himself. You talk about yourself here and there too.

Time flies yet again, and you realize that you should be heading back home now. You remember promising Beomgyu to pick up dinner on the way back, but you’re not sure where to go. You look over at Soobin.

“Do you know any good spots for food nearby? I still gotta grab dinner,” you ask.

“Yeah, there’s a restaurant that does really good fried chicken, it’s not too far from here,” he answers, then tells you the name of the place. You commit it to memory. You’re about to thank him before he starts up again, “I’ll come with you. I haven't eaten much today.” He starts logging off and shutting down his laptop. You’re so excited at the prospect that you don’t turn him down, even though it means Beomgyu will have to wait a little longer for his food.

The walk to the restaurant is quick and filled with small talk. You get him to laugh hard at one of your jokes, and it feels better than scratching a winning ticket. At the restaurant, you sit across from him in a comfortable booth.

“This one is really good,” Soobin says, pointing to one of the options on the menu. You purse your lips and nod.

“Sounds interesting,” you say. “Normally I go for spicy chicken though.”

“The sauce is so good on it. At least try some of mine,” he insists.

The waiter comes and you order your food. As you wait for it to arrive, you figure you should ask Beomgyu what he wants from here. You send him the link to the menu online.

Lmk what you want

[Beomgyu] omgggg that place looks so good

You feel even happier with your choice to go here now. Hopefully Beomgyu won’t feel bad that you ate without him. You don’t linger on the worry, though, not when Soobin starts telling you about how his first job was at a restaurant that reminds him of this one. You lean into your palm, staring at his handsome face with a dopey smile. Maybe it’s just you, but today just feels like more proof that there’s a lot of potential between you two.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Visiting Soobin at the library becomes a common post-work habit for you. You see him another three times in the next week. There’s something about him that won’t let your heart sit still, fluttering at each little thought of the man.

Your coworkers noticed you had some more pep in your step, and you wonder if having a crush is really giving you a glow. You were just excited to get out of work and go to the library. Even Beomgyu says something when you get back home.

“Someone looks happy,” he says from the couch as you walk into your apartment. You didn’t notice how hard you were still cheesing until he mentioned it. You take off your shoes and jacket.

“Maybe a little,” you giggle. Beomgyu follows you when you walk into your room. It’s normal for him to accompany you while you get unready. He sits on your bed, and you sit at your vanity.

“What are you so smiley for?” he asks. You guess your happiness is contagious, cause when you look at him through your mirror, he’s smiling too.

“Oh, nothing…” you say, building up the anticipation. Truthfully, ever since you left Soobin today, you were planning on how you should tell Beomgyu about him. You’re excited; you haven’t had a real relationship since high school, and you feel it coming up on you now. Any day now, you’ll get the courage to ask him out. Everything has been friendly so far, but you can feel the undertone of romance behind it all.

“What? Tell me!” he exclaims. He walks over to you, standing right by you as you clean your face. “Did you get a promotion?”

You laugh, “I wish.”

“Then what?” he asks. “Is it your new friend?” You shrug and sigh girlishly. You see his smile falter a little in the mirror.

He stops guessing and just watches you take off your makeup. He stays stood next to you, entertaining himself with the little trinkets on your vanity. His silence is a little weird, but you don’t break it with conversation either.

You finish taking care of your face and get up to pull some comfier clothes from your dresser. You throw them on your bed and look over at Beomgyu. He takes the hint and turns to the wall so that you can take off your work clothes.

“Did you see the group chat?” he asks as you slide a loose shirt on. You hum in confirmation. Your friend group is planning to go out together to a nice bar tomorrow night. You even mentioned it to Soobin, gauging his reaction to see if he’d potentially come. “Did you wanna go?”

Something in your heart urges you to spill your secret now. You want to try to sound casual about it, even though you feel like you could talk on and on about Soobin. You don’t let yourself pause too long, deciding to just speak without thinking too much about it.

“Yeah, I’m thinking I’ll invite the guy I’ve been talking to recently,” you say. You’re not prepared for how Beomgyu whips his head around and looks at you like you said something insane. You finish pulling up your sweatpants quickly, but you don’t think he even notices.

“What?! What guy you’re talking to?” he asks, and you’re taken aback by how appalled he sounds.

You put your hands up. “Woah. Chill.”

“No. What are you talking about??” he pushes.

“I’ve already been talking to him for like, two weeks, it’s fine.” You figure he must be upset because he’s cautious of you being with men you barely know. That’s fair, you’re weary when your girl friends bring up new men sometimes too.

He’s quiet for a moment, and you think he’s dropped the case until he starts back up, “Is this the same person you’ve been seeing after work?”

“Yeah, he’s a really nice guy,” you answer.

“You said you were with a friend.” There’s something accusatory in his voice. You tense up as defensiveness flows through you.

“Because I was?” you say incredulously.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you came home so smitten today. I had a feeling.” He looks at you like he’s disgusted, but you can’t figure out why. It’s not like you did something wrong.

“You’re not happy for me?” you ask. He looks away and huffs out a laugh. His arms are crossed over his chest, and you’re baffled as to why he’s taking so much offense to this.

“No, I don’t know this guy,” he says.

“That’s why I’d be bringing him tomorrow.”

“Why? It’s just supposed to be us.” You sit on your bed, and he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even move from the spot he’s standing.

“Just give him a chance. I think you guys could be friends,” you suggest.

“Fat fucking chance. No way,” he refuses. Now you’re getting upset, cause why the hell can’t he at least try to hang out with the guy you just said you’re interested in? As your best friend, he should be in full support of you finding love.

“Well, I’ll talk to the others about it and see what they think.” You pull your blankets up and go on your phone, not paying Beomgyu any more attention. You hear him scoff and leave the room.

You lay on your side and replay the argument in your head. Did you bring it up wrong? Maybe you introduced the idea at the wrong moment. Maybe Beomgyu had a bad day, and he’s just lashing out at you. He never does that though, why would he start now? You’re so frustrated. You wish you knew why Beomgyu cares so much.

Whenever you see him with girls, you don’t make a big deal. You help him with what little gestures to do to make her feel special. You always give him advice. His relationships never last, though, and he hasn’t seen anyone since you two moved together over a year ago.

Throughout the three years you and Beomgyu have been friends, you haven’t dated a single person. You guess you were wrong to assume that he’d be happy to see you finally do so. Did he want you to tell him sooner? It’s only been a couple weeks, though. That’s pretty soon.

You regret saying anything now. Beomgyu might not even go to the get-together if you ruined his mood that much. Maybe you shouldn’t go. All your friends might get pissed at you the way Beomgyu did. You don’t know what the right way is to introduce Soobin.

You throw an arm over your eyes and scowl at yourself. Why are you wallowing in self-pity? Beomgyu had no right to react like that! He forgets that you can do whatever you want with your life!

The smaller voice in your head reminds you that Beomgyu has always been a good friend to you. He rarely gets upset at you, and whenever he has, he was within his right. But this time? Really? Was it justified? You almost groan in frustration. You don’t know. All you know is that you’re in dire need of talking to another girl now. You unlock your phone and open your chat with Chaewon.

Heyyy you’re going to the bar with us tomorrow right??

[Chaewon] YES!!!!

You smile at her response. You love her bubbliness. It’s impossible to feel sad when you’re talking to her.

Thank god

We should get ready together at your place

I’ll just head there right after work

You hope she takes up your offer. It would be a huge stress relief for you. It would also be a good time to gauge her reaction on Soobin, as well as her thoughts on Beomgyu’s reaction. Debriefing life—even the bad moments—is never dull with her. It’s like she always knows what to say, and she’s always got what you need to hear.

A smaller part of this is motivated by the urge to avoid another argument with Beomgyu tomorrow. If he ends up coming, great. If he doesn’t, hopefully it won’t weigh on your mind so much. You don’t want to ruin your mood right before hanging out with all your friends.

[Chaewon] Omg yes please

[Chaewon] I have the cutest dress for you

You giggle and kick your feet in the air. Maybe you should ditch Soobin and let Chaewon carry you on her arm tomorrow night instead. She’s your hero right now.

I literally love you

[Chaewon] I LOVE YOU MORE

[Chaewon] IM SO EXCITED

ME TOO!!!!

Your shoulders feel less heavy after that. You shut your phone off and let out a sigh of relief. You find yourself excited for tomorrow to come now.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Luckily for you, your work day passes quickly. You speed walk the whole way to Chaewon’s place, not wanting to waste a single moment. You’re excited for tonight, thankful that everyone said they’d be able to come. You try to push back the worry that Beomgyu might not go.

You’re out of breath when you knock on Chaewon’s door. She doesn’t leave you waiting long, swinging it open with a squeal and hugging you immediately.

“How are you?” she asks as she ushers you in and shuts the door. She takes your jacket for you as you slide off your shoes. She hangs it on a cute little coat rack.

“I’m good now that I’m with you!” you say, beaming. She takes your hand and drags you to her bedroom.

“Let’s not waste any time, we gotta look hot before the hour’s up!” In her bedroom, she already has two small bins of makeup products on the floor. She gives you her makeup mirror and uses a smaller handheld one for herself.

“Oh, I already did my makeup,” you say, trying to hand the mirror back to her. She raises an eyebrow at you.

“You mean your work makeup?”

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask, looking in the mirror to check it. Looks fine to you.

“It’s cute, but it’s so modest. You need to look sexy,” she responds. You nod and point at her like she made a great argument.

“You’re right, let me see what you got in these,” you say as you dig through her bins. You pull out the palettes and glosses that intrigue you. She also picks some products out for you, telling you how good they’d look on you. You grab a few of your own products from your purse.

As you both start applying, you think back to Soobin. You wonder how he’ll react seeing you in non-work attire. You bite back a smile at the thought. You still have to ask Chaewon about bringing him, though. You hope that Soobin kept his schedule free for this, but also that he won’t be disappointed if you don’t end up inviting him in the case that Chaewon thinks you shouldn’t.

“I got a surprise announcement,” you start, immediately grabbing Chaewon’s attention. She looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m scared. Please don’t be pregnant,” she says.

“Well, there’s this guy…” You can’t even finish your sentence before Chaewon starts screaming. You burst out laughing, and she smacks the ground in amusement.

“Okay, okay, tell me more,” she pries once she calms down.

“His name is Soobin. He’s really cute, but also so hot. Like, Chaewon. I swear. I was drooling when I first saw him.” Her jaw is dropped open as she hears that.

“How'd you meet?” she asks.

“We met at the library a week ago and have been talking every day since,” you explain. “And girl… he does tech for an insurance company. That sounds like money to me.”

“Bring me to his mansion when you get married,” she jokes.

“Oh for sure. Imagine though,” you say.

“That’s so good for you. I could actually cry for you. You needed this.”

“Right?! See, at least you get it.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t? He sounds so good.” You pause doing your makeup to give her a pointed look. You emit an exaggerated groan and lean your head back.

“Don’t get me started,” you say.

“Well now I have to hear.”

“When I brought it up to Beomgyu, he completely freaked out. I mentioned bringing Soobin with me tonight and he just lost it.”

Chaewon scoffs. “Screw him, I wanna meet the guy! Who cares what Beomgyu thinks?!”

“I care, I don’t want him to be pissed at me,” you say, and Chaewon frowns.

“He’s just mad cause you’ll be getting it and he’ll be watching from the sidelines,” she says. You push at her shoulder and she laughs.

“You should try to set him up with someone so he gets off my ass,” you suggest, only half-joking.

“As if he’ll ever look at someone besides you.” You tilt your head upon hearing that response, not knowing what she means. She senses your confusion and continues, “I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

You rush to deny the claim, but your heart picks up in some weird sense of panic and shock. “That’s not it at all,” you say. You shake your hand frantically in denial.

“Keep telling yourself that. Why else would he freak out like that?” she asks.

“Oh my gosh… I’m not even hearing this one out,” you dismiss, locking this conversation away to never think about it again. “So, you think I should tell Soobin to come?”

“Yes! One million percent. I have got to see this handsome stranger,” she answers.

“Okay, I’ll text him once I’m done with this.”

“I haven’t been this excited in so long!” Chaewon squeals. Honestly? You either.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you find your friends’ table at the bar, you notice Beomgyu’s absence. Your heart sits heavy in your chest upon realizing that. Chaewon grabs your hand, and you wonder if you were wearing your guilt on your face. Her reminded presence is reassuring. You sit next to her at the table and greet all your friends.

“Did anyone pregame?” Aeri asks. “Cause I totally did.”

“Girl, I hope you Ubered here then,” Chaewon says.

“I drank a little, but only enough to feel a buzz,” Julie answers.

“Ayy,” Aeri cheers while high-fiving Julie.

“Meanwhile we were too busy scrambling into these dresses to think about drinking,” you say, pointing between yourself and Chaewon.

“You look hot, it was worth it,” Julie says.

“Is Beomgyu not coming?” Yeonjun asks, looking at you.

“I’m not sure. I thought he was,” you answer.

“He better,” Julie says. “The whole group hasn’t gotten together in so long!”

“Speaking of, there’s gonna be an addition to the group tonight,” Chaewon announces, shimmying her shoulders and looking at you. You roll your eyes at her with a fond smile.

“I asked this guy I’m seeing to come by tonight,” you inform, and the table erupts at the news.

“When’s he coming? I’ll give you my brutally honest opinion after seeing him,” Aeri says.

“Oh, you’ll love him,” you say. “Don’t flirt too hard, I can’t have you stealing him from me.”

“So a little flirting is okay?” she jokes. You lean over the table to swat her shoulder.

“He kinda gives shy vibes, so don’t be surprised if he’s not as energetic as us,” you say.

“Let’s just get him super drunk then,” Yeonjun suggests. The table bursts into a chorus of ‘yeahhhh’s.

“Oh hey, look who came,” Chaewon says, putting a hand on your shoulder and pointing her chin to Beomgyu walking towards your table. You hope your smile doesn’t look forced and awkward, but it feels it as he comes closer. Your eyes dart from Chaewon, to your other friends, to your hands on the table, then back to Beomgyu. Your heart pounds in fear that Beomgyu might still be mad at you. He wouldn’t come if he was that upset still, right?

He sits next to Yeonjun, and you’re holding your breath as you gauge the look on his face. He looks… happy. You release your breath slowly. He holds no anger in his eyes when he meets your gaze. A weight lifts from your shoulders.

Yeonjun slaps a hand onto Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Finally!” he exclaims.

“Hey, you think I’d miss a chance to drink with you guys?” Beomgyu responds.

“Okay, let’s get started. Should we each just open our own tab?” Julie asks.

“Yeah, that works,” you answer.

“Wait, I have no money, who wants to be my sugar mommy for the night,” Aeri says.

“You can put yours on mine,” Chaewon offers. Aeri wraps her arms around her for a quick hug in thanks.

“I will pay you back in double when I get my next paycheck,” Aeri promises.

“Ahh come on, don’t worry about that, let’s just have fun,” she responds. Chaewon pulls you up with her to go over to the bartender. Aeri follows along with the two of you. The other three probably split off on their own to figure out their orders.

The three of you take a shot for good luck first, then you work on your own drinks. You’re all giggling as you head back to your table with your drinks. Beomgyu and Yeonjun are back with their own beers, and Julie is nowhere to be seen.

“You think Julie’s drunk already?” Aeri asks the table.

“Oh, she’s been drunk. When she says she’s a little buzzed, that means she’s fucking wasted,” Chaewon says. Everyone laughs because it’s true.

You don’t know how much time passes where you guys just catch up on life and joke around, but at some point you feel your phone vibrate from a text notification. It’s Soobin.

[Soobin] I’ll be there in a minute! Please wait for me at the front so I can find you

“Guys, I gotta go grab Soobin, I’ll be right back,” you say. Everyone’s still caught up in conversation and doesn’t pay much mind to your announcement—everyone except Beomgyu. His eyebrows are upturned, eyes wide as they follow you when you stand.

You pat his head. “I’ll be back,” you reassure.

You don’t wait long by the bar door. Soobin finds you as soon as he walks in, greeting you with a hug. It takes your breath away for a second. It’s fleeting, and it’s over before you know it, but it makes your heart race.

“How have you been?” he asks. You’re standing so close that you have to bend your neck to look up at him.

“Good, better now that you’re here,” you say. He turns his head away to laugh. It’s unbearably cute. You have to stop yourself from squeezing his face in your hands.

“Do your friends know I’m coming?”

“Of course,” you answer. “They can’t wait.”

“Oh gosh,” he says, following you as you lead him to your table. It seems like Julie came back in the time you were gone, cause everyone’s there when you get back. All the girls squeal upon seeing Soobin. You give them a knowing grin.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Yeonjun greets. “Sit, sit.” He motions to the chairs on the opposite side of the table from him. You sit next to Julie, and Soobin sits next to you. Right across from you is Beomgyu. You tighten your lips when you see him looking off as if uninterested. You pray he can be amicable.

“Yeah, so, this is the boy,” you say.

“I’m Soobin,” he introduces with an air of awkwardness. It endears you.

The next few minutes are filled with your friends getting to know Soobin. They make good conversation, and Soobin responds well. Yeonjun even grabs a drink for Soobin at some point—“Be careful, he’s got plans to get you super drunk,” Julie joked—and it seems to loosen him up a bit. You just can’t help but notice how quiet Beomgyu is, though.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you announce, patting Soobin’s back as you get up.

You seat yourself on a barstool, tapping your fingers against the bar as you wait for the bartender to come to you. You hum along to the song playing.

“Hello again,” the bartender greets. You shoot your head up and smile. “Same as before?” You’re surprised he remembers your order when there’s so many people here tonight. You guess he’s just good at his job.

“Yes, please,” you say. You go back to humming and tapping to the beat of whatever song the bar is playing. You look back at your table for a second. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying themselves. It makes you happy to see your friends get along with Soobin.

You check your phone for any important messages, but all you received was a bunch of meaningless notifications from various apps. You shove your phone into your purse so you stop looking at it. You’re here to socialize.

A hand lands on your shoulder, prompting you to look back. You were expecting it to be Soobin, but you’re not surprised when you see that it’s Beomgyu. You give him a smile as he takes the stool next to you. You look back at the bartender, and Beomgyu looks behind the two of you at the rest of the people here. Beomgyu’s arm stays slumped around you.

When your drink is handed off to you, you turn your full attention to your friend. “What’s up?” you ask. You swivel your seat so you can face him directly, forcing his arm off you. He leans into the bar, getting—probably too—comfortable.

“I just wanted to see you,” he answers.

“How’s your night going?” You take a sip of your drink, licking your lips after. His eyes follow the movement.

“Alright, I guess,” he says. He looks out to the crowd again.

“You should go dance,” you suggest.

He shakes his head. “I only like dancing with you.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” you tease. He matches your smile before stealing your drink and taking a sip from it. “Oh my god, you and your big ass gulps, all the time,” you reprimand jokingly.

“I barely drank any of it,” he defends with a pout. You laugh and pat his head to summon his lips back upward. It works immediately, of course.

“How’s everyone doing at the table?” you ask.

He shrugs. “They’re having a good time. Soobin talks a lot.” Soobin wasn’t talking that much when you were at the table, so you’re surprised to hear that. Maybe the alcohol started really coursing through his system in the short time you were gone.

“That’s good,” you respond.

“Are you going home with him?” he asks, looking at you with big round eyes. Usually Beomgyu mellows down and laughs a lot when he drinks, but this time he’s a little different.

“With Soobin?” you clarify. He nods. “Probably not. I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Beomgyu says quickly. You laugh.

“Why good?”

“Don’t want him stealing you from me.”

“You’re such a child,” you chuckle. He holds your hand over the table when you let go of your glass. It’s not abnormal for him to be touchy with you, so you don’t question it. He brings your interlocked hands up to his face and leans into them. His face feels warm on the back of your hand.

“Let me know when you wanna head to ours,” Beomgyu says. He’s being cute right now, you can’t help it when you let go of his hand so you can poke his nose. He beams at you.

“Let’s go back to the table,” you say, grabbing your drink and getting out of your seat.

“No, stay here with me.” He’s so needy. You look him up and down, assessing him.

“How much did you drink?” you ask. You swear he only had a couple beers. He ushers you back into your seat with a gentle hand on your hip. “Gyu, I can’t just leave Soobin for the rest of the night.”

“He’s having fun. Don’t mind him.”

“I brought him here though,” you reason.

He sighs, and his eyes lose their sparkle. He turns his head so he’s not facing you anymore. “Fine,” he says.

“You can’t seriously be upset with me for this?”

He still doesn’t look at you. “I’m not.”

You bite your tongue and decide to leave it at that, even though you know he’s lying. He’s jealous for no reason; it’s not like you’re going to abandon your best friend all because you might have a man in your life. Soobin and you aren’t even anything more than friends right now. You wish you could talk some sense into him, but you don’t want to do that in public.

Beomgyu will wallow alone for the rest of the night if you leave him now. The choice is on you: abandon Soobin at the table, or abandon Beomgyu right here. It’s not like there’s a correct option.

You look at your table. Soobin’s intently listening to Yeonjun as he rambles on about something, while the girls seem to be in a conversation of their own. Does Soobin need you right now? He seems like he’s holding his own. Your eyes fall back to the boy that definitely does.

“Beomgyu,” you call, shaking his shoulder so he’ll look at you. He does. “Let’s go home.” His smile returns immediately.

You already start thinking of what excuse you’ll text Soobin later.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You wake up feeling suffocated by both the tight dress you’re still wearing and by half of Beomgyu’s body weight being sprawled on top of you. Curse him for insisting on watching a movie with you last night—not only is he crushing you now, but your laptop fell off the bed sometime during the night. He better pray it survived the landing. Neither of you even finished the damn movie.

You push him off of you, not caring how hard you do it because of how much of a heavy sleeper he is after he drinks. You sit up and look at yourself in your mirror. Your makeup’s a little smudged, but you don’t look totally crazy. You let yourself wake up for a minute more before sliding off the bed to check on your laptop. The screen lights up with the title card of the movie you watched. Phew. You close the device and stuff it back in the drawer of your nightstand.

You change into comfier clothes and wipe away the mess on your face. You carry on with your morning routine as usual, then lounge on the couch as you wait for Beomgyu to wake up.

The first thing you see on your phone is Soobin’s response to your text from last night. You ended up telling him that Beomgyu wasn’t feeling well, and you had to take him home. That’s not a lie, is it? Beomgyu was definitely not going to be okay if you carried on the night without him. You shake the thought and open Soobin’s text.

[Soobin] Don’t worry about it :) I had a feeling something happened

You didn’t doubt that he’d be understanding. He really is a good person.

You pass the day alongside Beomgyu once he wakes up, hanging with him in his room for most of the day. He plays his games while you go on your phone. You make dinner for the two of you, and Beomgyu cleans the dishes.

You watch him scrub at your plates from your spot at the table. You want to ask him about Soobin, but you’re nervous about him reacting poorly. You don’t want to argue again.

Beomgyu couldn’t be that immature about it though, right? If you just ask him for his opinion on Soobin, it’s not like he can really take offense to that. You’re genuinely curious, and you obviously want his approval on the guy you’re talking to. You bite the bullet and just go for it.

“So, what’d you think of Soobin?” you ask. You’re eager to hear his review, albeit a little nervous. He gives a short laugh in distaste, and your brows scrunch in confusion. “Did you not like him?”

He shuts off the sink and dries his hands after cleaning the last dish, then leans his back on the counter and stares at you with an unreadable expression, which is weird because you can normally tell exactly what he’s thinking.

When he finally responds, his face is just as indecipherable. “I don’t think he’s the right guy for you.”

“Why?” You’re genuinely curious. Maybe you’re wearing rose-tinted glasses, and Beomgyu could see something that you couldn’t.

He sighs, “He was just… giving me bad vibes.”

“How come?” you ask.

“Just a feeling,” he explains. You groan. What a non-answer.

“Well, I think he’s super charming.” He scrunches up his face like you said something disgusting. “Stop being like that,” you scold.

“I can’t help it. It’s gross,” he says.

“Yeah okay. I didn’t say it was gross when I was helping you get a new girl every week,” you mention.

“That was years ago!” Beomgyu whines.

“Still happened.”

“That’s not a fair comparison,” he complains. “And it wasn’t every week.”

“So it’s wrong when I find one guy I like and want to be with?” you question. He groans and crosses his arms.

“Why do you even need a boyfriend right now?” he retorts. “What’s wrong with what we have?”

You pause. What the hell is he on about? Having a friend is very different from having a boyfriend. He’s completely serious, too; his face is stone.

“Um, nothing? I don’t know what that has to do with this…” you answer, unsure. He sighs and makes his way over to you, but never gives you a response.

He picks up your hand and helps you out of your chair. Is this seriously where he’s gonna end the conversation? No, you want a real answer. You’re only being left with more and more questions.

“Don’t bring me back to your room, I want to talk about this,” you say.

“There’s no point,” he responds. He might be right, but you still want to know why he’s acting like this. You take your hand back from his grasp.

“Why don’t you like Soobin?” you ask, more demanding now. You harden your stare on him, but he’s not budging. You cross your arms as you wait for an answer. “Well?”

“Why does the reason matter so much?” he asks back.

“Beomgyu, what the fuck are you saying? Why are you being so secretive?” Anger starts filling your words, you can’t help it. It’s not fair for him to shit on Soobin nonstop without telling you why. If something happened that made him form this opinion, then you want to know.

“Calm down,” he says, and it only serves to upset you further. Before you can bark at him, he continues, “I just don’t think you need to be seeing anyone right now.”

“Why?” you demand.

“Cause you have me!” he exclaims like it’s obvious.

“That’s different!”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says. You tilt your head and look at him incredulously.

“What does that even mean?” you groan.

“What do you want from him? I can give it to you instead,” he pleads. Something’s changing in the air of this conversation, something you’ve been pushing to the back of your mind for your own sanity. Chaewon’s words from yesterday rattle in the cage you mentally locked them in. You push them back, not letting them escape. That’s an impossible and crazy thought.

“Stuff that best friends don’t do with each other,” you answer plainly.

“Why not? We can. Nothing has to change,” he says.

Your head is spinning and you want to sit down. You rub your temples and close your eyes. Everything in your mind is flying by too fast for you to make sense of it. Beomgyu holds one of your shoulders, and you back away instantly.

“I think I’m gonna spend the night at Chaewon’s,” you say, defeated. You feel a serious headache coming on.

“Don’t, please,” he begs. “I’ll talk, I promise.” His eyes are watery now, and it only fuels your stress more. How did you manage to make him cry? What is going on?

“I need to collect my thoughts.” You just want to get out of this now. Beomgyu was right: this conversation was pointless. Now you’re left with more confusion than you know how to deal with.

He quickly gets on his knees in front of you, big eyes pleading to you, hands clasped over his heart. He’s going too far for this right now.

“What is wrong with you?!” you exclaim, half-frightened at the sight of your best friend acting so different in front of you. “What in the world has gotten into you?!”

You try backing away, but he wails immediately and stops you. “No!” he yelps, clinging onto your legs to keep you from moving any further. He leans his tear-soaked face onto your thigh. His skin is warm against yours, and you suddenly regret wearing such tiny shorts. You try moving away again, but your back hits the kitchen counter, and you realize you’re cornered.

“I was here first,” Beomgyu says with conviction, like that justifies his whole argument, like you’ll stop seeing Soobin just because of that.

“Can we talk about this like adults?” you ask. He looks up at you with those watery wide eyes, and you can’t help but feel your heart ache a little. You soothe him with your touch, running a hand through his hair and down his face, collecting his tears. He leans into your touch and wears the most pitiful frown you’ve ever seen.

“Please,” he begs quietly. “You don’t need anyone else, you have me.”

“Gyu, get up,” you say, trying to keep your voice authoritative but gentle.

He doesn’t, of course. “Tell me what to do,” he insists instead.

“I just did.”

He scowls at that and nips at the flesh of your thigh. You jolt in surprise and pull his head back by his hair. He winces in pain for a second, then looks up at you like a puppy.

“Behave,” you warn, and he smiles like he’s getting what he wants.

“I will, I’ll be good, tell me what to do,” he pleads again. He looks delirious off of this. It twists your stomach and makes you release your hold on his hair. He immediately goes back to your thighs, licking a short stripe up it, reaching the hem of your shorts. You gasp as your legs twitch, and he looks up at you with a grin.

“I can’t be doing this,” you say, and Beomgyu rolls his eyes in annoyance. You get another nip to the thigh, harsher this time. “Enough with that,” you tell him, swatting at his head.

“So you get a boyfriend and suddenly I can’t be close to you anymore?” he spits bitterly, angrier now. He stands back up, crowding you with his proximity. You hate how you immediately feel like you have less power. A part of you wants him back on his knees.

“We are still close.”

He scoffs at that. “Yeah right. It’ll be different now and you know it.”

“Well now it’s gonna different, since you put on that whole fucking show!” you argue, swinging an arm out in disbelief.

His brows are drawn together, and he looks at you furiously. “I can’t just sit back and watch another man have you in whatever way he pleases.”

“We’re friends, Beomgyu! That’s it!” you exclaim. You don’t bother correcting his assumption about Soobin ‘having’ you. “No amount of confessions is gonna erase Soobin from my life just like that.”

He clenches his jaw and stares at you silently for a few long seconds. The tension is so palpable and thick, you don’t even dare to breathe. He grabs your wrist and brings you down the hall, into your room. He lays you on your bed with a gentleness that doesn’t match the anger on his face. You know where this is going, you’re not stupid. You should stop this. You need to stop this.

Words get caught in your throat. You should speak, you should yell at him. You should shove him away and put him in his place. This is too far, too much.

You don’t stop him when he crawls onto the bed with you. You don’t stop him when you see the hunger in his eyes as he scans your frame. You wouldn’t stop him no matter what he does right now, your guilty conscience snides.

Your core clenches when Beomgyu brings himself down to hover over you. He remains wordless, just examining your every feature. You’re scared you’ll give away too much and let him in on your desire, but a darker part of your mind hopes that he catches it. Fire builds in your stomach as the moment drags on.

“Tell me what to do,” he whispers. He’s so close that you feel his breath on your face. You stay quiet. He traces up your jaw with the tip of his nose, smiling when your breathing stutters.

He pulls away a bit, just enough to stare at where your hips almost meet. You’d just have to push forward a few inches to close the gap, but you hold back. His hand finds your hip, thumb rubbing you comfortingly.

“Tell me what you need,” he tries again. You bite back a whimper at the deepness of his voice. He laughs at how you still don’t respond. “You this quiet with Soobin too?”

That pisses you off and brings you out of your haze. “No, I give him whatever he wants.” It’s a lie, but you mostly say it to piss him off, and clearly you’ve struck a nerve judging by how he grits his teeth.

“I’m trying to be good for you,” Beomgyu says. He grips onto your waist tight. “I’m showing you I’d do anything for you.”

“Soobin does that just fine,” you say pointedly. Neither of you are amused, and the moment is laced with venom from both sides now.

You gasp when Beomgyu suddenly takes your thighs and pulls them up toward your body, exposing your clothed pussy to him. You try to shut your legs, but Beomgyu’s hold is too strong and doesn’t budge. He smirks when his eyes land on the damp spot over your core.

“Does Soobin make you soak through your shorts like this too?” he taunts. Before you can even think of a smart reply, he’s bending you even further, bringing your knees to the sides of your head. He has you folded firmly in half, and it feels so demeaning, but it makes you so wet. He laughs at the sight of you, slack-jawed and speechless.

You’re fully-clothed but feel so exposed. Your heart is beating erratically. You’re starting to shake from how worked up you are; you ache for him to do something.

“No, he doesn’t, does he?” he continues, and you whine. “You can pretend all you want that he’s the man of your dreams, but you know he’ll never compare to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t respond to that. You’re too far gone in your lust to trust yourself to talk; you’ll end up saying something you regret. Beomgyu finally releases his grip on your legs, and you feel all your arousal leaking out of you as soon as your hips fall back on the bed.

“You don’t wanna tell me what to do? That’s fine. I can read you like a book. I know what you want,” Beomgyu says before grabbing your hand and placing it over your cunt. You immediately grind into it, losing yourself in the stimulation. He smiles deliriously at the sight, running his hands soothingly up your sides. “That’s it, now you’ve got it. Now you’re being good.”

One of his hands leaves you, the other helping to keep your legs spread. When you focus your attention back on him, you see him pulling his dick out and stroking himself. He spits in his hand before wrapping it around his length again, and you moan at the sight. He looks delicious.

His eyes are wild as they try to take in every part of you. It’s hard to keep yours open, but you want to watch him as much as you can. Something like this can never happen again, so you need to take it in.

You work your hand faster over yourself when you see him tug at his length with more fervor. His mouth drops open when he moans. He looks so pretty, making a mess out of himself. The sight is addicting, him panting and kneeling over you. You never thought about him like this before, but now thoughts this lewd will plague you.

“Gyu,” you whine, trying to find the perfect rhythm to get yourself off, but you need more. He senses your urgency and gets his hand off his dick in favor of grabbing your wrist. He plunges your hand past your shorts and panties, guiding it to your core. You gasp at how crude the action is. He bites his lip as he takes your two middle fingers and forces them into your fluttering hole. You moan at the intrusion, which was made so easy thanks to how embarrassingly wet you are. The slick sounds of your cunt fill the air, loud and filthy.

Beomgyu wraps his hand around your wrist again to control your movements, pacing the way you fuck yourself. It feels so scandalous and so hot, you find yourself getting worked up quickly. He makes you fuck yourself with vigor, and the way your palm meets your clit with each thrust has your mouth falling open. You stay in the rhythm he set even as he pulls away to fuck his fist again. His grunts and moans are shameless, and they’re like music to your ears.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty, you’re a dream,” he rambles, clearly teetering on the edge. He squeezes the meat of your thigh, then your hips, then palms your ass. “Are you gonna cum, my angel? Are you gonna let me see how pretty you look when you fall apart?”

“Yes, please,” you answer breathlessly, back arching into the feeling. Beomgyu bites down his smirk and runs his hand down the outside of your thigh.

“Wanna see it so bad, fucking dreamed of this.” You can feel the mattress shake from how hard he’s fucking his fist. His grip is bruising on your thigh, and he moans when he feels you jolt in pleasure. “Yeah, keep fucking yourself like that. So perfect.”

You moan out as you finally cum, clenching down on your fingers and throwing your head back as the sensation takes over you. You hear him whine, and it makes you tighten even more around your fingers, dying to hear it again.

“So good, so good for me,” Beomgyu praises in a shaky voice. You can tell his high is approaching. “Look so b-beautiful.”

“Cum for me, Gyu, let go,” you urge, making him moan out again. You slip your fingers out of your cunt but keep your hand over it, fingers ghosting over your clit as you watch Beomgyu lose himself. The slight overstimulation is delicious, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering at the feeling.

“Have I been good to you?” Beomgyu asks, out of breath as he squeezes the base of his cock. He strokes himself slowly once he regains his composure.

“So good, felt so nice,” you answer, feeling blissful after your orgasm.

“Yeah? Better than Soobin?” he asks, increasing his speed again. You can’t even scold him before his motor mouth starts running again. “Could fuck that little pussy so much better than him. Make you feel so good. Make you forget about him.”

He pushes your shirt up with his free hand, and before you can even react to that, he’s pushing up your bra too. “Oh my god, Beomgyu!” you exclaim, pulling your hand from your pussy to cover your tits. Beomgyu yanks your arm away and brings your fingers to his mouth. You stare at him in shock as he sucks your juices from your digits, diligently swirling his tongue around them. He’s moaning around your fingers, and a second later he’s spilling his load onto your stomach and breasts. Your mouth drops open. He’s got a lot of nerve doing all that; unfortunately for you, it was the hottest thing you have ever seen.

He takes your hand out of his mouth once he’s cleaned your fingers off, whimpering as he rides out the last of his high. He looks down hungrily at your body, taking in the ropes of his cum splayed on your skin. Like the horny freak he is, he sticks his fingers in the mess and smears it all over your torso.

“Gross,” you laugh. He ignores that. He tugs at your nipples with his cum-coated fingers. You yelp at the sensation, and he coos at you. He does it again, and again, until he’s had enough of his fun. He stares into your eyes, and you wish you could crawl away from his heated gaze, it’s that intense. His thumbs return to tease your nipples, but he doesn’t pull his eyes away from your own.

“You’re mine. Never see him again,” Beomgyu declares like it’s final.

“We’re meeting tomorrow,” you respond. He pinches your nipple harshly for that.

“Why? Cancel. Just stay with me,” he offers instead. You try to get up onto your elbows, but Beomgyu pushes you back down against the bed. He continues absentmindedly playing with your tits. He’s practically sitting in your lap to do so.

“…Can you wipe your cum off of me?” you ask, ignoring the conversation at hand.

“But I’m having so much fun.” He pouts. He’s cute like this.

“I let you have enough fun today,” you say with no real bite. He sighs like it will kill him to do so before getting off the bed and leaving for the bathroom. He comes back a minute later with a wet towel, and it’s peacefully quiet as he wipes you down.

“He’s not even really my boyfriend, you know,” you mention, watching his focused face as he rids you of the mess he made.

“Sure,” he laughs bitterly. “Tell him that.”

“We never made anything official,” you say.

“Then why’s he parading around telling everyone how you’re his girl?” Beomgyu asks, giving you a hard stare. You pull your bra and shirt back down once he finishes cleaning you, trying to feel a little more decent. He throws the used towel on the floor and crawls in bed next to you.

You perk up at that. “He is? How do you know?”

He stares straight ahead instead of at you. “You don’t gotta sound so excited.”

“I’m just curious,” you defend.

“Right,” he says, not believing you. “Yesterday at the bar he said it. Multiple times.” Did he? You hold in your gasps and squeals and suppress the urge to kick your feet. Maybe you were too drunk to remember, or maybe Soobin was saying it while you were away from the table. Or maybe Beomgyu’s just psychotic and putting words in Soobin’s mouth.

“Wow,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

A few silent moments pass where you find yourself filling the time by trying to ignore Beomgyu’s stare on you. He turned to his side at some point and seems to find you to be the most interesting thing in the room. You try to focus on your nails, the walls of your room, your disorganized vanity, but nothing lifts his stare from you. You give in and turn your head to him, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well?” you prompt.

“What now?” he asks.

“Now… you get out of my room,” you say, holding eye contact and keeping your expression still. His face falters immediately.

“Are you joking?” he asks incredulously, backing away from you with a scoff, propping himself up on his elbows.

“This shouldn’t have happened, Gyu,” you say with a sigh. You know it hurts him—it hurts you, too—but you can’t do this while you’re seeing Soobin. You’ve already crossed the line.

Beomgyu is silent and unmoving. After a minute, it becomes clear he’s not leaving. You don’t know if it’s out of stubbornness or desperation. He lays back down and curls himself into you, tucking his face in your neck and holding you tight.

“Beomgyu,” you warn, but to no avail. He stays there and nuzzles further into you, and you’re so pathetic that you just let him. A stronger woman than you would have put her foot down, but that kind of power doesn’t find you in this moment.

Another long minute passes, consisting of you staring straight at the ceiling, listening to your combined breathing. You think of how Soobin would feel if he found out about this. How are you going to look him in the eye tomorrow? Do you tell him about this? Is it wrong to keep it a secret?

You try to pull away from Beomgyu, but he doesn’t let you move. “Please, Beom—“

“Stop,” he murmurs, putting his hand over your mouth just long enough to get you to stop talking. “Let me have this one night. He gets you every other time.”

You can’t help but feel a little aggravated at that. “Because he’s the one I’m seeing! This is wrong!”

“What’s wrong is you looking for other men when I’m right here,” he says with finality. When you don’t respond, he continues, “So let’s just go to sleep.”

You decide to let him win this time, telling yourself that this will never happen again. Sleep doesn’t find you easily with the guilt eating you alive, but it does feel kind of nice to have Beomgyu hugging you like this again.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you wake up, Beomgyu’s already gone. You let out a sigh of relief. You feel bad for not wanting to see him, but you know that last night changed things. There’s a conversation that needs to be had that you’re not sure you’re ready for.

You sit up and stretch, then check the time and notice that it’s already nearly 10. Your eyes go wide, horrified—you’re supposed to see Soobin at 10! You have less than twenty minutes to get ready!

You leap out of bed and run to your closet, looking for a cute dress to throw on cause you have no time to curate an outfit. Once you have the dress selected, you hold it in front of you in the mirror. The fabric is super soft and looks casual enough while still being pretty. The light color of it looks great on you, too.

You don’t have enough time to linger on your options, so you go with it. You fold the dress and run to the bathroom to finish freshening up and getting ready. You need to take the quickest shower of your life.

You’re rushing out the door once everything’s complete, cursing at yourself as you check the time. It’s already ten minutes past. You shoot him a text as you scramble down your apartment’s stairs.

Hey! I’m gonna be a bit late, leaving now

Forgot to set an alarm, my bad

Wait for meeee

You shove your phone in your jacket pocket and speed walk down the street. You’re lucky enough to live near the heart of the city, so everything is at walking distance. You’re halfway to the cafe when you feel your phone buzz with a response.

[Soobin] No worries. I’m waiting :)

[Soobin] Gives your coffee some time to cool down

You smile at the response. Of course he already bought your coffee. Of course he memorized your order. It’s Soobin, he’s the most thoughtful guy you’ve ever known. Your phone buzzes with another text notification. This time it’s Beomgyu.

[Beomgyu] omg where’d you go i got stuff for breakfast!!!

Your heart squeezes at the prospect. You rush to type out your responses.

I said I was meeting Soobin today

I’m sorry

Brunch?

You slow down your walking, finding yourself nearing the destination too quickly. You just want to get Beomgyu’s response before seeing Soobin. Your phone buzzes when he replies.

[Beomgyu] hmm.. ok brunch

You don’t find yourself excited, though. You guys do things like this all the time, but now you’re just nervous. It makes your stomach churn with anxiety. You know things have changed. Even if he acts like nothing happened, you both know something did.

You shove your phone into your pocket when you arrive at the cute little cat cafe. You wipe the sweat off your palms before opening the door. You try collecting yourself before looking for Soobin, who’s sitting at a small table near the front of the shop. You smile when you see him, but it’s only half-genuine; the other half of your mind is busy trying to push down your worries about Beomgyu.

You seat yourself across from Soobin, who smiles widely and fully-genuinely at you. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” you apologize. “Thank you for the coffee.”

His smile stays on his face as he watches you grab the cup and feel for its temperature. “It should be good to drink now,” he says. “I had company, the cats were coming to me.”

You laugh before taking a sip of your coffee. It’s the best thing in the world, you’re grateful he got it in advance for you. The hot drink eases your mind a bit. You look around the cafe until you spot a cat. It’s a fluffy black and white one, perusing around lazily.

“That one is so mean, don’t pet it,” Soobin says, following your gaze. He brings your attention to a different cat with a pointed finger. “The orange one sunbathing there is the best.”

“Oh yeah? You’re an orange cat fan?” you ask.

“I think you’d like that one,” he says. As if the cat could hear that, it gets up and starts walking toward you.

“Look at you, cat whisperer,” you joke. The way his face scrunches when he laughs makes your heart flutter. The orange cat brushes up against your legs when it finds you, and you immediately coo at it. “Hello, sweetie! Can I pet you?” you say, bringing down your hand for it to accept. The cat rubs its head against you, and you pet it lovingly.

“So you’re more of a cat person?” he asks. You look up from the cat to pay attention to him.

“I like all animals,” you say.

“What’s your favorite?”

You think for a second. “Should I say bunnies because you look like one?” you giggle.

“That’s a good answer,” he laughs with you.

“What would have been a bad answer?”

He looks up in thought and leans his face on his palm. “Maybe a mole or something?”

“Hey, I like moles,” you say.

“You like all animals.”

“What a good listener.”

“It’d be a little sad if I forgot something you said just a minute ago,” he responds.

“Men are like that,” you joke. You feel your phone buzzing with a call notification. “Sorry, let me check this.”

Why the hell is Beomgyu calling you?! You told him you were with—you roll your eyes. That’s why he’s calling you. He’s so petty and childish. You shove your phone back in your pocket.

“No one important?” Soobin asks.

“It’s Beomgyu,” you answer.

“Ah, you should answer then,” he reasons.

“I’m sure it can wait,” you dismiss.

“I need to go to the bathroom anyway, you can call while I go.” He smiles as he gets up.

You don’t really want to, but as you watch him walk away, you’re stuck sitting alone with nothing better to do. With a sigh, you unlock your phone and open your messages with Beomgyu.

What’s up

His response is immediate.

[Beomgyu] when are u coming back

You hold your head and groan at his antics. It’s been ten minutes and he’s acting like you’ve been gone ten days.

Whenever we’re done

Maybe an hour

He calls you again. Reluctantly, you answer. “What?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he says.

“No, you just want my attention. It’s one hour, I think you’ll live.”

“I think I won’t,” he counters. So annoying. You find yourself laughing for some reason, though. You see Soobin coming back, and you quickly fix your posture and tuck your hair back. That was fast.

“I gotta go,” you say abruptly. Beomgyu doesn’t get a word in before you hang up. He texts you his final words instead.

[Beomgyu] UR SO MEAN

Soobin sits back down in front of you. “What’d he say?”

“A whole lot of nothing,” you answer.

Soobin laughs. “Is that usual for him?”

“Always,” you groan.

After a moment, Soobin finds a new topic. “So what kept you up so late that you slept in so much?”

You freeze at the question. You have all of one second to decide if you’re going to spill the truth, or if you’re about to lie to his face. It would be the right thing to do to be honest with him…

“Beomgyu and I were hanging out,” you decide on saying. It’s technically true, but it feels like a cover-up rolling off your tongue.

You try to reason with yourself. You didn’t have sex. You got yourself off, with your own hand, and you didn’t touch him at all. The most he did was a little titty touching… so what? That’s so high school. It doesn’t even count.

You wonder if it would fool Soobin, cause it’s not fooling you.

“Oh, must’ve been fun then,” Soobin says. “Hopefully you can catch up on some sleep tonight.”

He’s so kind. You feel so gross. You don’t deserve him. Your smile doesn’t meet your eyes.

“You got any other plans for the day?” Soobin asks.

“I’m doing brunch with Beomgyu after this,” you answer.

“Wow, you spend a lot of time with him,” he comments. You don’t know why you feel a little offended at that.

“Yeah, we’ve been best friends since our senior year of high school. We moved to the city together, so we’re roommates.”

“Must be nice. I came here alone, so it was a little hard at first,” Soobin says.

“How so?” You’re honestly glad to shift the questions towards him for a bit. You like learning about him, and you hate how you always seem to end up talking about Beomgyu.

“I’m really shy, so making friends took a long time,” Soobin answers. “I’ve been here a few years now, though, so I made a decent community.”

“That’s nice. What’d you think of my friends on Friday?” you ask. “I heard you get chatty when you drink.”

He laughs and scratches his neck shyly. “Your friends were nice. I don’t think Beomgyu was very interested in talking to me though.”

You conceal your groan. Why does it keep coming back to Beomgyu?! You wish last night never happened so you could feel normal about this conversation. Even then, though, it wouldn’t erase how Beomgyu acted before that.

“Yeah, I don’t know, I’m sorry. Must’ve caught him on a bad day,” you excuse.

“Maybe. He seemed fine talking to you, though…” he mumbles, and you can tell that it’s bothering him. Now you really feel like shit. Any attempt you make to comfort him would be a lie after what you let happen between you two.

You grab Soobin’s hand, making his head pop up from where he was looking down all sullenly. “Thank you for coming that night. It means a lot that you met my friends,” you say. That puts a smile back on his face.

“Guess I gotta introduce you to mine now,” he says.

“I’d love that!”

“I’ll plan a day. How busy are you this month?” he asks.

“Not super,” you answer. You go on to ask about his friends, listening to him as diligently as you can while ignoring your phone buzzing in your pocket with text after text. You can guess who they’re from.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you get back home, you find Beomgyu already near the door waiting. He lights up, but you’re not amused.

“That texting and calling shit needs to stop,” you say, looking him dead in the eye.

He pouts and points at the table. “I made us food. It was gonna get cold.” You look at the table. He set up the dishes all cute, with plates of meats and pancakes in the middle alongside a bowl of berries. You sigh.

“We could’ve made it together when I came back,” you mention, but the fight leaves your voice. You wish you weren’t so endeared by him. You’re so weak, it makes you curse at yourself in your head. You sit at the table and pile some food onto your plate. He sits across from you and does the same.

You’re not sure what to talk about. You feel your skin heating up as you remember what happened the last time you were with Beomgyu. He must be thinking about it too. Maybe arguing about Soobin would be better than dealing with the awkwardness you feel right now.

You take a quick glance at him. He’s smiling and swaying around as he chomps down on his food. If he notices your discomfort, you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. You try to focus on your food instead of him as much as you can.

Usually Beomgyu is the only person you feel like you can do anything around, but right now you’re second guessing every little thing you do. Did you stare at him too long? Should you not check your phone right now? Where should you be looking? Does he know you’re overthinking this right now?

“I hope this is better than whatever you just did with Soobin,” he says, breaking the silence. You stop eating for a second to give him a disapproving glare. That’s one way to cut through your thoughts.

“You need to stop being so jealous,” you say. His neediness is being turned up to 100, and you don’t know how to deal with it. Whatever he thinks he’s doing is only going to drive you away from him.

“Well, I have to fight for your attention now,” he explains. You roll your eyes.

“No you don’t, I still spend most of my time with you.” It’s ridiculous that he thinks you’d just drop him like that. You literally live with him, you can’t avoid him. His insecurities are getting the best of him, and it’s changing your relationship with him.

“But soon you’ll spend it all with him, and I’ll have no one,” he says like he can see it all already. Gosh, seriously? His brows are upturned and the slightest frown mars his face. Why must he try to break your heart?

“Where’d you get that idea? I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always be the most important person in my life,” you reassure him. He looks down like he can’t stand to make eye contact anymore. His shoulders slump.

“I just have to make sure you don’t forget me,” he mutters. He keeps his eyes down. You sigh.

“I won't forget you. Can’t you just trust me? I’m telling you you’ll always be my number one. What more do you want to hear?” you ask.

He meets your eyes again. They still look sad. His lack of response puzzles you; he always has so much to say. You stay staring at each other for what feels like an eternity, until you pull your gaze away, unable to handle it.

You know you’re not in the wrong here. It’s not abandonment to just see another guy. He looked so pitiful, though. It would’ve hurt less to see him get angry and yell at you. He can’t really help how he feels, and you suppose it is a big change. What does he want you to do, though? Well, stop seeing Soobin. But you’re not going to do that.

You go to your room without another word, needing to leave his presence. It murks your mind and leaves you unable to think clearly. You text Chaewon to come over when she’s free. You just need to get your mind off of whatever’s developing between you and Beomgyu.

When her knock sounds at your door hours later, you run to open it, excited to finally talk to someone who won’t give you a headache. She holds up a grocery bag full of your favorite snacks, smiling ear to ear. You make a mental note to splurge for her next birthday; she always treats you so well.

You usher her to the couch and offer her a drink. She turns on the television and finds something to play in the background. Once you’re both situated, you open one of the snack bags and throw a blanket over the two of you.

“What did you do this weekend?” you ask her.

She doesn’t look away from the television when she answers, “Julie and I went to a spa.”

“Oh my god, and you didn’t invite me?!” you say in faux offense, although you definitely would have liked to go.

She laughs and points at the bag of food in your lap. “I made up for it with those.”

“You still owe me a day out,” you joke.

“I know, I’m thinking we’ll go to an amusement park in the spring. You down?” she asks.

“Oh, for sure,” you confirm. You go quiet for a bit, captured by the show Chaewon put on. The two of you make your own commentary on the characters and their decisions. You share looks when something crazy happens, and burst out laughing when Chaewon’s prediction about one of the plot lines comes true.

This is the stress relief you needed. You already feel lighter and happier. Good thing you asked Chaewon to come over. During a commercial break, Chaewon turns to you.

“Okay, I have to ask, how are things with Soobin?” Chaewon asks. The question doesn’t irk you, partially because it’s not Beomgyu asking it, but mostly because Chaewon put you in a better mood.

“It’s going good with him,” you say. You look down the hall to make sure Beomgyu’s door is shut. Talking to Chaewon about this might actually clear things up for you. She always has good advice.

“Tell me more,” she prompts, leaning in with a grin.

“Well, we went to a cafe today”—Chaewon cuts you off with a delighted ooooo—“and it went really well. He wants me to meet his friends next.”

Chaewon gasps. “You’re halfway into boyfriend territory now!”

Ugh. “About that…” you start.

“Uh oh,” Chaewon lets out.

“I really, really like Soobin, it’s just”—you shut up immediately once you hear Beomgyu’s door open. There’s no way he heard you, not unless he was intentionally listening in, and if he did, is he ballsy enough to come out and argue with you now? With Chaewon right here? You hold your breath.

He walks into the kitchen, and you let yourself breathe again. You watch him carefully. He opens the fridge. It’s a little early for dinner, so he’s probably just looking for a drink or a snack.

“Hey! Talk to me about that sexy tall man!” Chaewon says, bringing your attention back to her. You laugh nervously.

“Let’s talk about you, actually,” you say in attempt to shift the conversation. “How was your spa day with Julie?”

“We had fun, but it was nothing more important than Soobin updates!” she assures. She’s talking so loud, you flinch thinking about Beomgyu listening in.

“I don’t think we should talk about him right now,” you say, eyeing Beomgyu’s figure in the kitchen. You release your breath when you notice he’s still distracted in his search through the fridge.

“Girl… what,” Chaewon deadpans, following your gaze. She looks back at you, brows scrunched. You share a glance, and she puts two and two together. “You’re kidding me.”

“Please,” you whisper.

“He is so ridiculous,” Chaewon complains, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I know, but I can’t talk about it right now. Later, please,” you continue in a hushed voice. Beomgyu settles on an energy drink, closing the fridge and advancing toward the two of you. You pray Chaewon drops it.

“Hey Chaewon. Whatcha guys up to?” he asks as he lingers by where you sit on the couch. You look to Chaewon with pleading eyes. Hers are unamused and disappointed.

“Just talking,” she answers, her voice lacking any emotion. Beomgyu nods.

“Cool. What’s on TV?” he asks.

“Some crime show Chaewon likes,” you respond. It’s quiet for a minute, and you’re trying not to feel antsy. Beomgyu definitely didn’t hear your conversation about Soobin, but you can’t shake the reaction Chaewon had. You were just about to tell her how Beomgyu’s been acting, but now the conversation will have to wait.

When Beomgyu takes a seat next to you, you know that you won’t be able to talk to Chaewon about Soobin until the next time you see her. He puts his arm on the couch behind you and gets himself comfortable. It’s not like you’re going to ask him to leave, so you just lean into his side. You might as well make use of his warmth.

The three of you watch a couple more episodes of Chaewon’s show, and after some time your anxiety leaves you. It feels like a normal hang out, not like you’re in between your best friend you just got intimate with and your other best friend who has no clue.

“Are you having dinner here?” you ask Chaewon. She shakes her head.

“I think I’m gonna head out now, actually. I’ve got a few things to do,” she says. She gets off the couch. “But you need to come over tomorrow, ‘kay?” She points at you. You already know it’s because she wants to finish the conversation you started before Beomgyu came in. It must’ve been pestering her mind.

“I will,” you say. You get up from the couch to hug her. “Thanks for coming over.” You walk with her to your door.

“Love you, see you tomorrow!” she exclaims, waving.

“Love you too!!” You wave back.

Once Chaewon’s out the door, you return to Beomgyu on the couch. You lean your head on the armrest and fold your legs so they’re not resting on Beomgyu.

“I don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” you complain. He laughs.

“When do you ever?” he asks.

“Fridays, cause there’s donuts,” you answer. He tugs on your legs to pull you closer to him. Your shirt rolls up a bit as he drags you down the couch, but he fixes it for you.

“Call out sick or something,” he suggests.

You groan, “I only get, like, seven sick days.”

“You should skip and we should go to the shopping center.” You hit his chest with your knee at his offer. He smiles down at you.

“The difference in maturity levels between us is crazy,” you say.

“I keep you young,” he jokes.

“Bitch, we’re the same age.” You hit his chest again.

Your phone buzzes on the table in front of you, but before you can sit up to check the notification, Beomgyu flips the device so it’s facing down.

“Who texted me?” you ask.

“No one,” he answers. “What do you want for dinner?”

You hum in thought. “I’m not really hungry honestly. I filled up on Chaewon’s snacks.”

“Same.” It falls silent, so you grab your phone and finally check your notifications.

“You liar, you said no one texted me,” you say, reading your text notification from Soobin.

He wears a mischievous smile. “Oops. Must’ve read it wrong.”

“Yeah right,” you say. You open your phone, going to respond to Soobin until Beomgyu takes your phone from your hands. “Hey!”

He shuts off your phone and puts it in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Talk to me instead of going on your phone.” You scowl at him, who looks back at you with a teasing grin. Asshole.

“Give me back my phone,” you order, hand reaching out for him to place it in. Instead, he takes you by the hand and drags you into his lap, laughing when you yelp.

“Why don’t you take it?” he offers, looking down at his pelvis.

“I’m not digging in your pants to get my phone back,” you say.

“Will you dig in my pants for other reasons?” He wiggles his eyebrows. You bite down your smile and smack his arm.

“You wish, freak.”

He snickers, running his hands up your arms. “I do wish.”

You’re acutely aware of the tension starting to build in the room, and you can’t deny how you’re getting excited in the heat of the moment. This is innocent enough, right? You’re just being playful with each other. Just because you’re starting to feel a little worked up doesn’t mean you’ll act on it.

You move your hand slowly down his chest, traveling down his torso, making your way down to the pocket of his sweatpants. He stares at you with big dumb eyes, and you hold back your laughter. You pry open his pocket, sliding your hand in and retrieving your phone, letting the weight of it drag across his thigh as you pull it out from the fabric.

“Got it,” you whisper, a winning smile on your face. You throw your phone behind you on the couch. You don’t know why you don’t move from your position, though. Maybe it’s the satisfaction you feel at watching his mouth fall just the tiniest bit open at your actions.

His hands grab your waist, thumbs lifting up your shirt just the tiniest bit, revealing a sliver of your stomach. He brings you forward on his lap, moving you even closer to him, and your eyes widen when you feel his half-hard length beneath you.

“Gyu?” you say, searching his eyes. He looks drunk off this moment, and he doesn’t bother to hide his lust. It’s evident all over his face, from his lidded eyes to his bitten lip. “Maybe we should”—

“Do you wanna ride me like this?” he interrupts, hands moving to your hips so he can guide them into a slow grind. You gasp at the sensation, not realizing how aroused you’d gotten. You feel him hardening below you the more you sway your hips over him. You feel dizzy.

You drop your head in his neck and let out a shaky exhale, letting him control your movements. God, this is so wrong. You’re doing this again? You’re really bad at keeping your own promises. But fuck, when your clit catches on the head of his cock, even through all the clothes, it feels like heaven. You can’t even think about how you should stop.

He slides your hair to one side of your neck and kisses the side he bared. “Good girl,” he praises, keeping your hips in a slow rhythm that has your brain malfunctioning. You whine, and your thighs twitch and tighten around him.

Beomgyu’s rock hard now, and you wish he didn’t feel so sinfully good. He presses his hips further up against you, and the added pressure makes you moan out before you can hold it back. He laughs and scatters wet kisses onto your neck.

“Look at you,” he says, voice so low it makes you shiver. “Pretty little thing getting herself off on my lap, creaming her pants for me. Cute girl.” He hastens your rhythm for you and holds you down tighter against him. You gasp and cling onto his shirt.

“Gyu, Gyu, please,” you stammer, feeling your high approaching.

“I know, sweet girl.” He matches your rhythm with his own hips now, making your toes curl.

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe out, moving yourself even faster over him, losing yourself as you chase your orgasm.

“Yes, fuck, cum for me, I need to see it,” he insists, watching you spasm and shake over him. He moans out at the sight, and the sound is what brings you over the edge. You feel his dick twitch as you ride out your high, and you realize he came in his pants too. The thought makes your head spin.

You slow down as you begin to come down, holding his face in your hands. You wear a dopey smile, and he looks just as fucked out. You’d like to ruin him one day, to see him beg for pleasure and get more than what he can take. He has a pretty face for things like that.

Your hips still over him completely, and Beomgyu connects his mouth to your jaw. He sucks on your skin there, and you push his head away. “No marks,” you tell him. He nods quickly and goes back to licking and kissing and sucking your skin.

He trails his kisses down to your neck, lapping at every inch of skin he has access to. He’s messy with his tongue, coating you in his saliva. It’s so filthy, but it has your core pulsing again. You don’t know why he has this effect on you.

You jolt when you feel his teeth on your neck, biting down and sucking hard. It makes your hips push forward, and he moans against you. You’re not too far gone to let him get away with that, at least.

“Are you serious?” you scold, pulling Beomgyu away by his hair. He kisses your cheek, just barely missing your lips. You gasp, flustered.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, breathlessly. He lays you down on the couch and lifts up your shirt and bra. He decides to connect his mouth to what he reveals there instead. He swirls his tongue around your nipple and sucks, squeezing and fondling your other tit with a hungry hand. You whine out when he just barely scrapes his teeth against the bud, fueling the heat in your core. He switches sides so that he can suck your other breast, delivering wet kisses to it.

His free hand travels up your thigh and stops just inches from your cunt. He swipes his thumb lazily over your inner thigh, so close you can feel it ghost your center. It’s getting you desperate for relief. You close your thighs around his hand, and it brings him right to your core. He moans against your chest at the collision. You wonder if he can feel your wetness through your thin pajama pants.

He rubs his hand against your cunt, moving slow enough to keep you wanting more. He detaches his mouth from you and stares at how your hips gyrate against him. He bites his lip and presses his fingertips harder against you, teasing your entrance through your clothes.

“Oh my god,” you moan, throwing your head back.

“Fuck, let me finger you,” he insists, bringing a thumb to your clit. Your head is spinning from the pleasure. “I need to, I’ve got to feel you.” You feel his bulge on your thigh, heavy and hard. You cry out. You feel your moral ground starting to slip.

“Take off my pants,” you instruct. “Just those.”

He rushes to follow through. Your pants are on the floor in an instant, and his hand is right back on you. He drops his head into your neck when he feels you this time.

“You’re drenched,” he moans. He runs his index finger through your folds over the cloth, so soaked through that he can feel the outline of your pussy perfectly. He pushes his index finger just barely into your hole, watching your panties scrunch up into it.

“Gyu!” you yelp.

“Let me, let me, let me,” he pleads, jamming his finger just a touch further. Your hands wrap around his arm, needing purchase on something. “You want to cum so bad, right? You want to feel good?”

“What do you want?” you ask back.

“To make you take whatever I give,” he answers. Your entrance flutters over his finger at that. “So let me take these off,” he says, pulling his hand away to snap your waistband.

You feel your sanity leave you. You need that pressure back in your cunt. His eyes are dark and blown out. He pulls your panties down just barely, letting them sit below your hip bones, your center still covered. He’s agonizingly slow as he pulls further and further, not daring to reveal your cunt until you say so.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Beomgyu whispers.

He’s the one driving you crazy. Your mind is completely fogged over. You’ve been turned into some kind of lust-drunk whore, seeing as you can’t focus on anything but him if you tried.

“Take them off,” you finally give in. You pulse and ache where you need him most. Beomgyu wastes no time when he pulls your panties off and away, and the first thing he does is hold your legs wide open and stare at your pussy.

“So perfect and slutty for me,” he says in his deep voice. “Gonna make this little pussy all mine.”

You whine at his words, thighs twitching and trying to close. You need him to do something, you need him to fill you. Your hole clenches over nothing, the emptiness starting to kill you. Beomgyu bites his lip and watches as your arousal leaks from you.

“You’re so cute, maybe I should just keep you like this,” he muses, laughing when you cry out and shake your head. “No? But I love watching this sweet cunt leak for me. You’re dripping like a whore.”

You arch your back, push your hips out, do anything you can, but he still doesn’t relieve you. You try to bring your own hand down to your pussy, but Beomgyu grabs it and pushes it back against the couch by your head.

“Please touch me!” you plead, desperate beyond belief. You might even start crying.

“Aww, my baby needs me,” he coos, soothing his hands up your thighs. “My pretty girl needs me, only me.” Finally, his fingers find your clit. You melt into the feeling, sighing in relief. Your hips twitch closer to his hand, making sure he won’t leave.

“Thank you,” you moan. Beomgyu holds your face with his free hand, staring into your teary eyes.

“Don’t cry, I’ll give you what you need,” he says, voice soft. He dips a finger into your cunt, stopping once he’s knuckle-deep. He fucks his finger into you slowly, and you sigh at the relief. He watches his finger sink into you, humming in pleasure when he sees how it collects your wetness.

His actions pull soft moans from your mouth, but you can’t bring yourself to conceal them. It’s not like you need to be embarrassed anyway, seeing how much Beomgyu loves your reactions. You get sick of his slow pace after a while, trying to ride his finger faster.

“More?” he asks. He inserts a second finger into you. The stretch feels like heaven, you crave to be stuffed by him.

“Yes! I need it,” you exclaim. He picks up the pace a little. “Thank you, thank you..!” He laughs a little and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You’re so nice to me right now,” he notes with a smile, fucking you faster on his fingers in appreciation. “This is how you should always be.” You pay no mind to the wet squelches your pussy makes as he pistons into you. Your stomach muscles clench as you feel yourself getting closer.

He starts curling his fingers inside of you, and it doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for. You arch your back and yelp at the sensation of him pressing against the spongy part inside of you. He grins and keeps thrusting against that spot, watching your reactions with amused eyes. His head moves down between your thighs, biting and sucking at all the flesh his mouth can find, then wraps his lips around your clit once he grows tired of marking you.

“Ah! Gyu! That’s—mmh,” you sputter, rolling your hips up into the feeling. It’s so much. He pushes his fingers into you harder, deeper, with more purpose. He toys with your clit using his tongue, swiping and flicking it while he sucks. You’re right there and he knows it, doubling his efforts.

The pleasure takes you under, and you cum with a cry. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at the strands. It makes him moan, and the vibrations fuel your orgasm. He’s hungry for it, fingers coaxing as much of your cum as he can get out of you. He doesn’t give up his pace even as you start to come down, fog clearing from your mind.

“That’s enough,” you say, trying to push his head away. His mouth leaves you for all of one second before he latches himself back on. “Beomgyu, I already—fuck!” He sucks harder now and hooks his fingers harshly into you to rub right against a spot that has you seeing stars. He only pulls his fingers out long enough to push a third one in, pressing right back where he was.

You gasp, pulling his hair again, needing something to keep you in reality cause you feel like you’re about to slip. You shake and twitch with overstimulation, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. It’s like he hasn’t gotten his fill yet. He’s careless with how he breaks you, paying no mind to your body’s limits.

Your orgasm builds up and hits you quickly thanks to Beomgyu’s determination. Your thighs clamp around his face, but that doesn’t stop him. You whine and mewl as Beomgyu feasts on your arousal. Your poor pussy clenches hard around his three fingers, so much he can’t even thrust them anymore, so he curls his fingers rapidly inside you instead. Your cum pools out of you and onto his hand, your juices dripping out of you uncontrollably.

He pulls away, panting, staring at your pussy. He licks a stripe up it, then goes back down to circle his tongue around your entrance. You whimper and push his head away. He meets your eyes, and his dark gaze softens when he sees your teary ones.

“Can’t you just take a little more?” he asks. His eyes don’t leave yours as he nibbles and sucks on your thigh. You shake your head and push his face away again. With a pout, he rises back up so his face is hovering over yours. You don’t know why fondness overcomes you when you’re staring at him, but the feeling isn’t entirely unwelcome.

“You’re so good,” you say, cupping his face and giggling. He leans his face into your neck, and you can feel his shy smile form against your skin. He comes back up with stars in his eyes.

You want to kiss him, and the thought scares you because you’ve never wanted that before. The feeling is so overpowering that you have to look away. You try to find interest in the wall, but Beomgyu’s movement makes you turn your head back to him. He leans back to admire you.

He smirks at the sight of your thighs, prompting you to look down at them too. Your eyes widen in horror at all the marks he sucked onto them. He pats your leg with a happy grin on his face. “No more short skirts around him,” he says. What a little shit.

“Beomgyu!” you scold. Dignity finds you and forces you to sit up and reach for your clothes on the floor. Before you can grab anything, Beomgyu’s placing you in his lap and holding your face much too close to his. His hips jut up into yours, and you gasp upon feeling his erection. Of course he’s hard again.

“I still need you,” he whines. “Please, don’t go yet.” You pull your face away from him, so he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. His puppy eyes are so sweet and pitiful, you have no choice but to stay. One sad look from him is all it takes for him to get whatever he wants from you. You’re weak.

“I-I’m still sensitive,” you say as he grinds into you. He grips your hips hard, keeping you in place so you have no choice but to take it. You can already see your juices on his sweatpants, leaving a damp mark right over his cock.

“Yeah?” he asks, half-breathless. It’s like he’s not even listening to you, too focused on humping you like a bitch in heat.

“Yes, slow down.” He drops his head on your shoulder and pants heavily, not slowing down at all. You’re buzzing in overstimulation, legs twitching uncontrollably. His hands are shameless as they try to grab at every part of you. He squeezes your hips, your waist, your tits. His tongue is warm on your skin as it trails up to your ear, where he bites down and sucks.

He pushes himself further against you, giving you no space and no chance to leave. He wraps his arms around you and pistons his hips like he’s actually fucking you.

You gasp, “G-Gyu! Stop being bad!” You tug his hair, forcing his head back. His mouth drops open, and he stares at you through lidded eyes. Lust has possessed him, and your words only fuel him.

“Then punish me,” he says. You pull his hair harder, forcing his head back as far as you can, and suck on his neck. He moans louder than you’ve ever heard from him before, and his hips stutter in their rhythm. His hands keep you pressed against him as close as you can get. You moan when you feel his dick twitch through his clothes. For a second, you wonder how it would feel inside of you, but you shove that thought to the back of your mind.

You detach yourself from his throat and watch his face twist up from the pleasure. You look down to see the cum stains on his pants, giggling at the sight. Your hips jerk, and he gasps at the sensation.

Your eyes land on the mark you sucked into his neck. It’s darker than the ones he plastered all over your thighs. You want to feel ashamed or appalled for leaving that on him, but all you feel is some sort of satisfaction. You let your body fall limp against him, sinking into his hold and laying your head on his chest. His hands run to soothe you, brushing through your hair and rubbing your back.

You avoid asking questions. You avoid talking at all. You don’t want to know what this is or what it means, you just want to bask in the afterglow of whatever this is. The unpacking part of this will be a problem for future you.

Even if you hate yourself for this tomorrow, you can’t think of anything better than Beomgyu’s embrace on you now. You’ve already crossed so many lines with him, adding a few more won’t hurt. You find yourself wondering what things you’d like to do with Beomgyu next.

You lean back to stare at his face. His smile is blissful and lazy. You can’t pull your eyes from his lips. Even in the middle of winter, they still look so soft. You wonder what it would feel like to run your tongue over them, or how they would feel wrapped around your fingers. Would they be carnal and unforgiving against your own, or would his lips find yours in a sweet, gentle kiss?

You feel his hand on the back of your head. He’s pulling you closer, and you panic. You tilt your head so that your lips find his jaw instead of his mouth. You pull away after planting a little kiss there. Your gaze flits down his face for just a few seconds before you lean in to place another kiss on his jaw, a little higher than the last, lingering a little longer.

“A real one now,” he requests, eyes pleading and hands resting on your neck. You peck his nose, then his cheek, then his other cheek. He holds your face still and whispers your name. You share the most intense stare you’ve felt in your life.

You close the gap and let your lips touch for just one second. It’s soft and simple, and it’s enough to satisfy your curiosity, but Beomgyu has to come back for more. His lips feel so nice, they were made to be kissed. His fingers dig into your hair, desperate, clinging to you as if you’ll slip away from him. His kiss is hungry, like he wants to consume you, like he’s trying to find a way to your soul through your mouth.

You use both your hands on his chest to push him away, and when you succeed, you stare at him with wide eyes. You’re trying to get your breathing back under control. His face is flushed.

“Please, you can’t go back to Soobin after that,” he begs. The fragile glass holding this moment together breaks, and your sense crashes back over you immediately. Shit, you forgot about Soobin. How could you have forgotten about Soobin?!

You pull yourself out of his lap and stare at your best friend with horrified, blown-out eyes. What the fuck? What did you just do? You have to tell Soobin, you have no choice now. Next time you see him, you’re going to spill everything that’s happened with you and Beomgyu. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair to him.

“Gyu… I’m so, so sorry,” you apologize getting off the couch slowly, putting on your clothes. How do you save this? How do you stop yourself from breaking both Soobin’s trust and Beomgyu’s heart? There has to be a way to salvage this. There has to be a way to make this okay.

“Why?” He shoots up, holding your arms so you stay. “Why would you be sorry?” He shakes his head like he’s not understanding, but his eyes tell you that he knows. He knows you’re going to try to stop this again. What will he do to prevent you this time?

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you whisper. You can’t even look him in the eye.

His disappointment only shows for a second before it’s overcome by need. A need to stop you from leaving, a need to show you that he’s yours, a need to prove himself to you—you know it all already, it’s happened so many times before. You can’t give in. Not again. Not after you let him get this far. If you allow this, what else will you let him do?

His hands are shaking as they cup your face. When you meet his eyes, you see tears already falling from them. You hate it. You hate it so much, how you’re always the cause of them. You’re always finding new spots to put your knife, slower ways to kill him. You know it by now; you know he’ll be hurt, but you do it time and time again, and you never learn your lesson.

This time it will change. This time you have to mean it.

“Stop making this so hard…” you say, hushed, as you wipe his tears from his face.

“I can’t leave you alone,” he insists. “You don’t get it. It’ll kill me.” He turns his face to kiss your palm. You try to pull your hand away, but he catches your arm and brings your wrist to his mouth, kissing you gently over your pulse point.

Why does your heart race? Why does your breath catch? He keeps finding new ways to fluster and confuse you, and all this just to make sure you don’t leave him for Soobin. You don’t know what’s more pathetic: the fact that he keeps doing this, or the fact that it keeps working.

You smooth your hand down his neck and rest it on his shoulder. “Just go to sleep,” you tell him softly.

“Come with me. Don’t make me go to bed alone after this.” He looks so cute and hopeful, you almost give in. You tighten your lips and place a parting pat on his chest.

“Good night,” you say before walking to your bedroom. He must know better than to follow, because he doesn’t. You try to ignore how your bed suddenly feels so big and empty.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Tell me everything, girl,” Chaewon says as soon as you settle onto her bed with her. You rushed over to her place after work, needing to debrief her on whatever has been going on between you and Beomgyu.

“First promise me that you won’t hate me,” you start.

“Oh, this is how I know it’s gonna be good,” she chuckles.

“Promise me!” you repeat, clutching onto her legs and locking eyes with her.

“I promise!” You lean back and let out a dramatic sigh, preparing yourself for your recap of all the events. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.

“So, remember the day we went to the bar, how you said you think Beomgyu might like me?” you ask. She nods. “I think you might’ve been right. Things have been getting weird.”

“I literally fucking knew it, I knew he must’ve been on some shit,” she says, looking excited to hear more. “Continue.”

“Well…” you trail off, feeling your stomach knot up in fear of actually saying what happened out loud. “Oh my Godddd, I can’t.” You hide your face in your hands.

Chaewon pushes your hands down and shakes you by the wrists. “Tell me!”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, so. At the bar, Beomgyu came up to me and was like are you leaving with Soobin? And I was like no, and he was so happy about that. But then he got really upset when I wanted to go back to the table with Soobin. Literally so upset that I ended up going back home with him cause he was gonna sulk all night otherwise.”

“Oh my fucking God, Aeri and I were literally joking about that being the reason why you left. That’s crazy,” Chaewon says.

“The next day, I asked him for his opinion on Soobin, and he got all pissed at me for some reason,” you continue.

“It’s cause he likes you!” Chaewon chimes in, rising up and screeching with the adrenaline of the conversation.

“Well then it gets crazy. He starts talking about how our friendship is enough, I don’t need a man, and I’m like huh? I don’t even remember everything he said, but it was so weird, and he started offering himself up to me basically.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Like, I’ll do whatever you want, literally like that,” you explain.

“Girl.” You share a glance.

“Just wait. It gets worse,” you say.

“Don’t tell me you fucked.”

“Just wait!” you repeat. “So I tell him I’m gonna head to your place to clear my mind, and—I can’t make this up—he drops to his knees and starts crying actual tears. And then it gets kinda horny?”

Chaewon busts out laughing and claps her hands. “How’d I know?”

“He’s biting and licking my thigh, and I’m still trying to talk some sense into him, but some demon ends up possessing me and he takes me to my bed, and we don’t fuck but we… yeah.”

Chaewon covers her mouth in shock. She’s speechless, and you let the first half of the story ruminate in silence for a few long seconds. You tighten your lips and nod like you’re disappointed too.

“When we finish, I tell him that this is never happening again, and that he needs to leave my room, but he doesn’t. He insists on sleeping in my bed with me because Soobin gets me every other night, which is not true, but I let him have it anyway.”

“You need to put your foot down. He’s crazy,” Chaewon says.

“There’s more,” you respond. “Also, that night, he told me that Soobin apparently said we’re together or something at the bar? Is that true?”

Chaewon scrunches up her face. “No? I don’t think he said that.”

You groan, “Beomgyu is literally driving himself crazy. Anyway, the next day I literally start hating myself so bad because I wake up and have to see Soobin immediately”—Chaewon gasps—“Yeah. And the whole time I’m thinking, do I tell him? Should he know? And, oh my God, Beomgyu would not stop blowing up my phone during our date.”

“I would have to fight him, that’s so annoying,” Chaewon comments.

“It was! He didn’t even need anything either, he just wanted my attention. I didn’t end up telling Soobin anything cause I was scared. When I got home, Beomgyu and I ate and he was like I hope this is better than what you did with Soobin.”

“Girl, beat his ass,” Chaewon says.

“Stop,” you laugh, pushing her shoulder. “We argue again, and then I ask you to come over. Then you know what happens when you’re there. When you leave, though, the demons get to me again and I get even freakier with Beomgyu.”

Chaewon looks at you in horror and shock.

“Yeah. So when it ends, I tell him that this won’t happen again. He gets all sad and cries again, and says all this heartbreaking, confusing shit. So no matter what I do, I feel like I’m hurting someone.”

“Can I be honest? He’s one hundred percent manipulating you,” she says. You flinch a bit at that. Manipulating you? That’s a little far.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you refute. “He just ignores all our friendship’s boundaries.” Beomgyu has touched you in ways that friends shouldn’t. He’s declared things to you that friends shouldn’t. He’s begged to you and drove himself to tears, he’s gotten in his head with insecurities about you, he’s done too many things that a friend would never do that you just can’t ignore.

Chaewon places her hand over your own. That’s how you know she’s about to get serious. You like talking about this with her because she can be fun, but she can also be mature about things and give good advice. Plus, at least with her, you don’t have to worry about not being heard.

“Listen,” she starts. “He cries to you because he knows you’ll give in. He brings up his devotion to you because it makes you feel like you owe him. It’s not about professing his emotions, it’s about doing whatever it takes to keep you closest to him.”

Your brain is struggling to fit all the pieces together. It’s not adding up or making sense to you. Maybe to an outside source like Chaewon, it looks a little bad, but you know Beomgyu better than that. You always have been influenced by him. Right now is no different. He doesn’t want to control you, you think. He just wants his best friend.

“He’s not evil, Chaewon, he’s just being annoying,” you say. She sighs and goes quiet for a second. You can tell she’s carefully formulating her response.

“He’s being selfish. He can’t stand to see you choose another man over him.” That much you know. He’s admitted to that.

“Then wouldn’t I be selfish too? Letting him do things with me while I’m talking to Soobin,” you ask, looking off to the side. When you say it like that, guilt pours over you. If Beomgyu’s being selfish, then you’ve been obscenely greedy. That’s not a far cry from the truth, though, and it may even be the actuality of the situation after all. You won’t defend yourself from that claim.

“The thing is, you wouldn’t be doing any of this if Beomgyu wasn’t messing with your head,” Chaewon reasons. “Would you have let him touch you if he never cried to you that night?”

You think back to your first intimate moment with Beomgyu. You definitely wanted it. The second time too. You ponder Chaewon’s words. If he never fell to his knees, begging you to stay, what would have happened? If he skipped the tears and the pity party and just took you straight to your room to fuck, would you have been okay with it then?

Probably not, you think. But how relevant is that? You can’t separate Beomgyu’s emotions from his actions. He felt like he was losing you, and that’s why he did everything. Everything that happened after was from the heat of the moment, an act of desperation.

Maybe it’s his utter devotion that turns you on, maybe that’s what keeps you from denying him. Seeing a man so desperate that he’d shed tears for you, perhaps it’s what makes you lose control. When Beomgyu’s on his knees, looking up at you with painfully honest eyes, promising you that he’ll be good, any woman in your position would fold.

What if it wasn’t Beomgyu? What if it was Soobin instead? Would you still give in? You try to picture it. You look into Soobin’s eyes and feel his fingers on your thighs. You try to make yourself burn up more, but you don’t feel much.

Okay, picture it more, maybe. He’s got you spread on your mattress, begging you for just one touch. He kisses your stomach, and his tears fall off his cheek and onto your skin. His tongue is warm and wanting, exploring further down your body until he bites down on your waistband. You tense up, needing more. You grab his hair tight. He looks up at you and you almost shriek, horror and humiliation crashing over you. He’s not Soobin at all. He’s Beomgyu.

Chaewon’s voice cuts through your thoughts to ask you another question, “Do you feel like you can’t leave him?”

“I’d never leave him,” you answer. You didn’t even have to think about it. She sighs.

“At some point, you have to realize that this is going beyond keeping a friend around,” Chaewon says. “He won’t let you go out with Soobin in peace. He argues with you whenever you mention him. He touches you to get your mind off of him.”

You don’t try to refute that. Should you just accept defeat? You could go home and surrender to Beomgyu. You could promise to never look at Soobin again, and he’d finally get what he wants without a fight. You’d live the rest of your life not knowing whether you’ve got the love of your life standing right beside you or waiting out in the world somewhere.

“He’s giving you no choice. He’s doing it on purpose.” Chaewon picks up your hands, lacing them with her own. “You have to start standing your ground with him. No more letting him control your life.” Her hands give a firm, reassuring squeeze to yours.

You nod. “You’re right.” She smiles.

“Okay. Bring it here,” she says, pulling you into a hug. The second your head lands on her shoulder, you start crying. You didn’t even know you had to cry. She rubs her hand down your back, letting you use her as an outlet.

“What happens if I can’t, and nothing changes?” you sob. You feel helpless in your own life. Nothing you do will change what Beomgyu does or erase what you have done.

“Then you leave,” she answers simply. You tense up at the idea. Do you have it in you? You’re not nearly brave enough. “You come stay with me for however long you need. I promise.”

“How will I look at Soobin after this?” You should save everyone a whole lot of trouble and just call things off with him. The thought makes you feel sick, though. You don’t want to leave Soobin. You have a real connection with him. Beomgyu’s just getting in the way of it, fogging up your mind at every chance he gets.

Chaewon pulls you out of her embrace so she can look you in the eye. Her hands stay on your shoulders, firm and reassuring. “Stop beating yourself up. You made a mistake, but you’re not the biggest one at blame here.”

You wish that was true. You blame your lack of spine, your inability to keep your conscience clear, and your willingness to lie to save face. You look down at your lap in shame. If Beomgyu’s an asshole, then you’re perfect for him. You’re not as good as you’d like to think.

Chaewon calls your name to bring your attention back to her. “Soobin isn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Well, that’s true. You sniffle.

“Won’t he hate me now?” you ask.

“He has no right. As long as there’s no label, you two aren’t exclusive. Sure, things are a lot more complicated now, but you’re not a bad person for anything you did,” she says. You nod slowly. Her words help you so much. You would have gone crazy without her.

Maybe you should take her advice: leave Beomgyu and stay with her, at least until you can make up your mind. You can’t do that to him, though. He’d fall apart. It would honestly be hard for you, too.

“Thanks, Chaewon,” you say. You flop down onto the bed, letting your body sink into her mattress. “I’m so exhausted after that.”

“A good cry will do that to you,” Chaewon laughs. She lays down beside you and rests her arm over your waist. You pull yourself closer to her until you’re laying on her chest. You throw a leg over her, getting comfortable.

“Let’s order pizza,” you suggest.

“Yesss, and watch more of my show,” Chaewon adds. She picks up her phone and searches for a good pizza place that can deliver to her. As she does that, your phone screen lights up to signal that Beomgyu’s calling you.

“Oh my God,” you say, holding your phone up for Chaewon to see.

Chaewon smirks and shakes her head. “We summoned him.”

You sit up as you answer the call. “Hi Gyu, what’s up?”

“Not much, just wondering if you’re gonna be here for dinner?” he answers.

“No, I’m getting pizza.” Beomgyu hums on the other end, and it’s quiet for a few seconds.

“Are you with Soobin right now?” he asks. You’re displeased but unsurprised at his question.

“I’m with Chaewon,” you say flatly. Chaewon leans closer to you and points at your phone.

“Let me talk to him,” she whispers, fury in her eyes. You shake your head. You absolutely cannot let that fight happen.

“Oh. Are you sleeping over there?” Beomgyu asks. Chaewon nods with wide eyes, like you’d be crazy if you said no.

“I might, yeah,” you answer.

“Alright. Tell her I said hi. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back after work.”

“Yay, have fun with Chaewon then! Bye~” he sings.

“See you.” You hang up and turn to Chaewon. “Did you order the pizza?”

“It’s on its way,” she confirms with a grin.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You take a deep breath before you enter your apartment. You’re nervous to face Beomgyu again. Not knowing how he’s going to act is worrying you, because you don’t know if you’re going to walk in and get a normal night with your best friend, or more confusing confessions that toe the line between friendliness and something greater.

You don’t see him when you come in, so you wonder if he’s working. That would make your night less stressful. That proves to be wishful thinking, though, when shut the fridge after grabbing a drink and see Beomgyu walking into the kitchen. He greets you with a sweet call of your name.

You smile at him, but it doesn’t meet your eyes. After your conversation with Chaewon yesterday, the only thing that’s been lingering on your mind is how to finally put your foot down. Do you wait for him to try something to have that conversation? He’s going to be offended no matter when you say it, so maybe you should just get it over with. You don’t know.

“How was work?” he asks.

You shrug. “It was kind of a long day.” Not for any work related reasons, but you don’t tell him that part. Standing in the kitchen with him feels awkward now, even though it never used to before. You just can’t stop thinking about him in unfriendly ways, be it from his kiss or from his confessions.

You realize that these thoughts will only pester you worse and worse the longer you ignore the topic with Beomgyu. He’s talking about what he did at work today, but you’re barely listening. Your eyes linger on his lips as he speaks. You follow the movement of his hands as he rambles, thinking about how those slender fingers felt inside of you.

God, stop! This is why you should have never done anything with him. At this rate, you’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with him again. Your heart starts beating faster. You need to let him know that you need space. Fuck, why did you let it get this far? His sad eyes flicker in the back of your mind already.

Beomgyu moves to the couch, probably expecting you to follow him and turn on the television. Your feet stay planted where they are, watching him with careful eyes. He looks back at you when he realizes you didn’t trail behind him, staring at you expectantly.

You force yourself to move, walking slowly into the room with him. You sit on the couch, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.

Now’s the time. Speak up, you have to. Don’t worry about his feelings. Think about Soobin. Do this for him—better yet, do this for yourself. Prove that you have it in you.

“Beomgyu,” you say. He furrows his brows, seeming confused at your serious tone. “We can’t do this anymore. I’m serious.” You steady your breathing as you look him straight in the eye.

“What do you mean?” he’s quick to ask. You know he’s not dumb enough to not understand what you meant. He grabs your hand to hold it, and you let him have it for a few seconds before you pull away.

“I mean, no more playing with each other. No touching, or kissing, or anything we wouldn’t normally do.” You’re anxious as hell, but you feel strong for once, and it’s nerve-wracking yet empowering. You’re setting your boundaries. No more reckless decisions that leave you regretting everything the next day.

Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Why, cause Soobin said so?”

“No, because I said so,” you correct. He tilts his head as a frown starts to form on his face. You remind yourself that you can’t let him win. You remind yourself of everything that Chaewon said. Beomgyu will do anything he can to win, and you can’t let that happen.

He’s quiet for a moment, unnerving you. You know that he’s coming up with his pleas now. You have to cut him off before he can get anything out.

“You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose you because of some dumb decision we made,” you say, hoping he’ll understand, but the sadness in his eyes only grows at that. He drops his head onto your shoulder and hugs you. Oh lord. You hug him back with a heavy exhale.

“What am I supposed to do? Watch you be happy with someone that’s not me?” he murmurs into your neck. You lean out of the hug so that you can look him in the eye. He needs to know you’re not breaking this time.

“Yes. It’s either that or we argue like we have been everyday.” It’s about time that he stops sulking at every mention of Soobin.

“Then I’ll take the arguments. I’ll take you yelling at me and hitting me, I don’t care. I just can’t take you being with him,” he says.

“I’d never do that,” you refute, sick at the idea of hurting him. “You have to listen to me. Let me see this out with Soobin. I want to at least give him a chance without you intervening.”

He sighs with a heavy heart. Is he going to let you win? That easy?

“Did Chaewon tell you to do this?” he asks. You drop your jaw in shock. He’s got some nerve asking that.

“That doesn’t matter, the only thing that does is that I told you we have to stop, and you need to listen.” You can’t believe he’s bringing Chaewon into this. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going to let him blame her.

Beomgyu deflates into the couch and looks down at the floor. You ignore how your heart clenches. You can’t comfort him, that would be his window for turning this situation around. He has to know you mean this, so you walk away, going to your room and shutting the door.

You lean your back against the door and zone out, staring at the wall. Don’t think about how Beomgyu feels. Don’t think about how you might have ruined your friendship.

What do you do now? Will he want to talk to you anymore? Maybe you should have let him plead his case a little. He’s insecure, he can’t help it. You slide down the door until you’re sitting down.

You have to stop making excuses for him. He’s an adult, it’s time he acts like it. Chaewon’s right, you can’t keep giving him what he wants, and putting your foot down and hurting his feelings was the only way he was going to learn.

That’s what you’ve been doing, you suppose, but this time you mean it, and you hope he knows it. You’re going to have to put in more effort into resisting the urge to comfort him. If he keeps making things hard for you, you’ll have to start ignoring and avoiding him. The thought scares you.

You don’t want to think about this anymore. You wish you didn’t have to do this, but you had no choice. Your thoughts about him were driving you crazy, and you had to put a stop to it before they could get even worse. Not to mention how guilty you’d feel hanging out with Soobin if you continued letting Beomgyu have his way with you.

You open your phone and go to your chat with Soobin and type a quick message.

Hey

You just want to reassure yourself that you made the right choice. Hurting Beomgyu’s feelings can’t be for naught. You don’t expect Soobin to respond so fast, but he does.

[Soobin] Wow I was just thinking about you lol

[Soobin] Hi

Your heart skips a beat as you read his texts. He thinks about you?

Oh really? About what?

[Soobin] I wanted to see you again

You bite your lip and a smile grows on your face. See? Wasn’t this worth making Beomgyu a little sad? Wasn’t it a fair trade off? He’ll be okay, surely. And eventually, you might even stop feeling guilty for doing it, too.

You deserve to be able to talk with Soobin without your conscience barking at you. This is what had to happen. You’ll feel better about this when everything all works out in the end.

How about tomorrow?

[Soobin] I’d love that

Yayyyy

Finally something not shitty about my day

[Soobin] What happened?

You groan. Where do you even start?

Argument with my friend

[Soobin] Beomgyu?

Yep…

[Soobin] Well I’m glad I could make you happy for a minute then :)

You find yourself giggling at his message.

You’re cute

[Soobin] Thank you

[Soobin] You too

You almost squeal when you read that. He’s so shy when it comes to flirting, but when he does it, it never fails to give you butterflies. You imagine him blushing as he sent it, feeling a little hesitant to be so bold. What an endearing guy.

Finally, you feel like you can end the night on a decent note. You feel better now that you’ve got something to look forward to with Soobin. You don’t let yourself think about Beomgyu anymore tonight, not wanting to sink down that rabbit hole.

I’m gonna go to sleep, thanks for cheering me up hehe

And for everything that you do

Good night

[Soobin] Sleep well

[Soobin] Dream of me

Your heart flutters. Your fingers race across the keyboard.

Fingers crossed

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The air around you and Soobin feels so much lighter now that guilt doesn’t have you in its claws. You ended whatever you had going on with Beomgyu, and now you can focus more on Soobin. Your heart holds an open invitation for Soobin to occupy, you’re just waiting for the feelings to further bloom.

It’s unfortunate how early it gets dark out, but you don’t let it ruin your day. You bask in the glow of the streetlights as you and Soobin walk to the park.

“I used to come here all the time with my sister and nephew,” he says. You find a gazebo to sit under. From here, you have a perfect view of the frozen-over lake ahead of you. “We’d play tag with him, but we’d have to run super slow to give him a fair chance.”

You can see that image clearly in your mind, and it makes you smile at how cute it is. Soobin being such a family man is so charming to you. He has such marriage potential. You’re getting ahead of yourself, though.

“This seems like a good place to bring a kid. So much space to play,” you comment, looking out at the park. The grass doesn’t look so alive right now, and all the trees are bare, but it must be nice in the summertime. Even now, there’s something beautiful about it.

“Yeah, it makes me think about having kids of my own to run around in these fields.” The idea of a mini Soobin playing here makes you chuckle. He’d definitely have well-behaved kids. He would be a good dad.

“You want to stay here when you raise a family?” you ask.

“I think so. There’s a lot this place has in store. I’m a little attached to it,” he laughs. You wonder if you’ll think of the city so fondly one day too. You’ve only been here for a little over a year.

“Really? What’s the best thing in this city, then?” you ask and smile at him.

He looks at you for a long second, then lets out a little laugh. His cheeks are red when he looks back out at the lake. “I don’t know…”

You giggle, swooning over him yet again. “What about your hometown? What was it like there?”

“It was nice. I lived in a small area. I miss it sometimes, but I don’t think I’d go back. I think I mostly miss being a child,” he answers.

“I can relate to that,” you say. “Life’s harder now.” You think about the past week in particular and all the chaos with Beomgyu. Teenage you would never have imagined getting tangled up in something like this, especially not involving him.

“Things like this are good, though,” Soobin adds, smiling at you. “Things with you.” Your face heats up. He’s getting so flirty and brave.

“Same for me,” you say. “It’s good with you.” You spend a few quiet seconds admiring his face, letting the butterflies flutter wildly within you.

“I think it’s been long enough for me to ask this,” Soobin starts. Your body tenses in anticipation. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Oh god. The butterflies halt and replace their happy fluttering with silent dread. All of your effort is going into maintaining a neutral composition. You don’t want to let your internal dilemma show. Your heart is going haywire, like it’s trying to beat right out of your chest. You don’t blame it for trying to run away; a part of you wishes you could too.

“Can we wait a little longer?” you ask meekly. You fear hurting his feelings, but you simply need more time. This is not how you imagined this moment would go. You wish you could scream yes and jump into his arms, but things have gotten muddy in the past week. You need to sort everything out with Beomgyu first. If this is going to happen, you need to make sure it comes from a place of one hundred percent certainty. You can’t be exclusive with Soobin with Beomgyu lingering in the back of your mind.

If Soobin’s trying to mask his disappointment, he’s failing. Your heart drops. Is this where he leaves you? No—you’re not ready for that either. If he gets up right now, you’re ready to cling onto his jacket and beg him not to go. You don’t know what you just did. You messed up. You should’ve just said yes.

“I’ll wait however long you need,” he ends up saying. He stays right where he is. You sigh in relief and hug him. He lets out a noise of surprise, but is quick to hug you back.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. Things are just…” you trail off as you pull away from him. He brushes your hair out of your face. “…Confusing right now.”

“Is there someone else?” he asks.

You gulp. “Kind of. It’s… Beomgyu.”

“Oh, right. He doesn’t like me.”

You frown. “I don’t know why.”

“You really value his opinion,” he notes.

“It’s not only that…” you say, looking down at your hands fidgeting in your lap. Soobin lifts your head back up with a gentle hand. He smiles when your eyes meet.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I’m ready whenever you are,” he reassures. He leans in to place a peck on your cheek. You heat up wildly.

“You should probably know, though,” you urge.

“No,” he insists. “Honestly, I don’t want to know. I’m just happy I get you to myself every time that I do.”

A weight lifts itself from your shoulders. You feel like you can breathe again. You’re lucky that Soobin is so understanding, and even luckier that he’s willing to wait for you to figure your own things out. He doesn’t owe you that, but you’re endlessly appreciative that he gives it to you anyway.

You lean into Soobin’s side and look out at the scenery in front of you. The two of you fall back into conversation, and you find yourself feeling sad when it’s time to go.

As you hug him goodbye, you feel inclined to just never let go. You feel so comfortable in his embrace. You insist on meeting up again over the weekend, and he puts up no fight in accepting. Gosh, he makes your heart race. Things are finally feeling good again.

notes: yayyyy what do we think?? chapter 2’s already at 7.6k and i’m estimating it’ll get up to ~17k-20k, but we shall see. i’m excited to hear ur thoughts, so feel free to leave feedback! 🤍

#txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu angst #txt angst #txt fic #beomgyu fic #soobin angst #soobin x reader #soobin fic

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v6quewrlds · 8 months ago

Text

❝ know no better, m. barzal. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: with your work responsibilities taking you away from long island, you and mat haven't had much time to blow off some steam. his friends, however, are tired of being on the receiving end of mat's "steam" and enlist you to help.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: about half way through the nnn series! i am a diva!mat truther so enjoy. day five of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, oral (male receiving), mat’s a lil grump.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mathew barzal x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.4k.

You looked up from your laptop, your eyes scanning the crowded airport lounge. The clacking of keyboards and murmur of distant conversations created a familiar backdrop to your focused silence. You sighed, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you awaited your flight's boarding call. Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up, expecting to see a message from work reminding you of the deadlines that had kept you in Boston for nearly a month. Instead, you found a text from Ethan Bear.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You hadn't spoken to Ethan in ages, not since the last time you and Mat had seen him over the summer.

The message was simple: "Hey, noticed Mat's been on edge lately?"

You read it again, a hint of confusion creasing your forehead. Of course, you had noticed. Mat's mood swings were like the tides, but you had just chalked it up to the pressure of his season and your demanding work schedule pushing distance between the two of you.

You typed back, "He makes it hard not to lol he's prob just stressed with the season. Why?"

Ethan's response was swift and to the point. "It's that dumb No Nut November bet. He's losing his shit like a little bitch. Can you fix him?"

You couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. Mat, your six-foot hockey player of a boyfriend, reduced to a grumpy mess over a bet? It was almost endearing in its ridiculousness. But Ethan's concern was clear, and you knew you couldn't ignore it.

You replied, "I'll see what I can do," with a winking emoji, feeling less than guilty for the amusement that bubbled up inside you.

As you boarded the plane, you couldn't shake the image of Mat, all six feet of brooding masculinity, brought to his knees by his own stubbornness. You chuckled to yourself, imagining the look on his face when you told him you knew about the bet. The flight back to Long Island was a blur of work emails and half-hearted attempts at relaxing, your mind racing with ideas to tease him into dropping this absurd challenge.

When you finally stepped into your apartment, the tension hit you like a wall. Mat's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you could hear him muttering under his breath. You set down your bag and called out, "Honey, I'm home!" with a playful lilt in your voice.

Mat appeared around the corner, his eyes flashing with a mix of relief and annoyance. "Fucking finally," he grumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly in an attempt to suppress a smile.

You rolled your eyes, your amusement clear. "What crawled up your ass?" You stepped closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mat sighed, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "You wouldn't understand."

You stepped closer, your curiosity piqued. "Try me."

Mat rolled his eyes, his frustration palpable. "It's just this stupid bet with the guys. I can't believe how much it's messing with my head."

Your smile grew. "Oh, the No Nut November bet? That's what's got you all worked up?" You couldn't resist poking the bear. "You know you can just tell them you can't do it, right?"

Mat's jaw clenched, and he glared at you. "It's not that simple. My pride's on the line."

You chuckled, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Okay, tough guy," you said, your voice gentle and teasing. "But if it's really bothering you, maybe you should just, I don't know, not do it?"

Mat's eyes searched yours for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his gaze. He was torn between his pride and his desire to end the torment. You decided to take matters into your own hands. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I have an idea," you murmured against his skin. "How about I help you relieve some of that tension?"

His eyes widened, and you knew you had his attention. "How?" he asked, his voice gruff with hope.

You stepped closer, your hands sliding down to his chest, your thumbs tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "How about I give you a little something to take your mind off of it?" you suggested, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You saw the spark of interest in his eyes and knew you had him in your grasp.

Mat's expression softened slightly, his eyes flickering with curiosity and a hint of desperation. "What are you thinking?" he asked, his tone cautious.

You smirked. "I could give you a reason to lose the bet?" you offered, your voice laced with playful challenge. You watched as the realization dawned on him, and his eyes grew dark with need.

"Did someone set you up to this?" he asked, his voice thick with suspicion, trying to hide his growing excitement.

"Let's just say I have my ways of finding things out," you replied with a wink. You could feel the tension in the room start to ease as Mat's curiosity took over.

Mat looked at you skeptically. "Alright. But if you're just messing with me..."

You giggled, standing on your tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "I'm not messing with you, baby." Your breath was warm and sweet, sending a shiver down his spine. "I want to help."

Mat stared at you for a moment, trying to gauge your seriousness. He was desperate for relief, and the thought of losing the bet was becoming increasingly more appealing by the second. With a huff, he stepped back, his arms crossing over his broad chest. "Okay, fine. What do you have in mind?"

You took a step closer, your eyes never leaving his. "Well, I was thinking..." you trailed off, your hands moving to the hem of his shirt, "maybe I could help you relax." You began to lift his shirt, your hands gliding over his abs, your manicured nails lightly scraping against his skin. "You know, just a little something to take the edge off."

Mat's resolve was crumbling. The feel of your hands on him was too tempting to resist. He let out a gruff chuckle, trying to maintain his tough exterior. "You're really going to do this?"

Your smile grew mischievous as you continued to lift his shirt, exposing his toned stomach. "Mmhmm," you hummed, your eyes flicking up to meet his. "I think it's only fair that if you're going to be a grumpy mess, I get to enjoy the perks of helping you out."

Mat's arms fell to his sides, his eyes locked on yours as you continued to explore his torso with your fingertips. "And what perks would those be?" he asked, his voice low and gruff with anticipation.

Your smile was sly. "Well," you said, your thumbs grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, "I was thinking I could give you a nice, long, slow release."

Mat's eyes darkened, and he took a sharp intake of breath. "Fuck it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a fiery kiss that sent shockwaves through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you gave in to the passion you had been craving for weeks.

The two of you stumbled into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. You pushed him down onto the bed, your body straddling him. You could feel his heart racing under you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his muscles taut and his eyes filled with a desperate need that made your own pulse quicken.

Mat's hands found the zipper of your jacket, his fingers fumbling with the fabric as he tried to get it off of you. You laughed and helped him, shrugging out of the jacket and tossing it aside. You leaned in again, your mouth tracing a line of kisses down his neck and chest, feeling his body respond to your touch. His breathing grew ragged, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

As you kissed down his body, you felt the tension in Mat's muscles start to unwind. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you knew that you were winning the battle against his pride. With a knowing smile, you began to undo the drawstring of his shorts, your eyes focused on his.

"Missed this pretty, perfect dick," you murmured against the fabric of Mat's shorts, your voice muffled and playful. Mat's body tensed in anticipation as you slowly pulled them down, revealing him to your gaze. You took a moment to admire him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of humor and desire.

Mat groaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets. "You're evil, you know that?"

Your eyes gleamed with victory. "Only when it's for your own good," you teased, your fingertips brushing against his arousal. You watched his reaction, his eyes rolling back slightly, raven hair beautifully contrasting the crisp white sheets.

Mat's hand reached up to tug at your hair, urging you closer. "Just do it," he begged, his voice a mix of frustration and need.

You chuckled, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Pushy," you said, your voice low and soothing. You leaned down, your warm breath fanning across his skin. Mat shivered as you pressed a kiss to the tip, your lips curling into a smug smile at his gasp. You took your time, teasing him with feather-light kisses and gentle strokes, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Mat's eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth grinding together. "Baby," he ground out, his voice a desperate plea. You conceded and took him into your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring his taste and the sound of his moans. His hips bucked upwards, and you held him down with a firm hand, keeping the pace at a torturous crawl.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching the myriad of emotions playing across his face: surprise, pleasure, and a hint of embarrassment at his loss of control. You took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked gently, and he swore, his hands fisting in the sheets. The salty tang of his sweat mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, and you felt a thrill of power knowing you could bring this strong, confident man to the brink of madness with just your mouth.

Mat's thighs tensed beneath you as you increased your pace, your hand pumping in time with your mouth. His breath grew ragged, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. You took him deeper still, your throat tightening around him, the sensation of his impending climax thrumming through your body.

"Shit," Mat groaned, his voice tight with need. "C’mon, babe, I can't..."

You released him slowly. "You can't what, baby?" you whispered, your voice like velvet against his sensitive skin.

His eyes flew open, and he stared at you, desperation warring with the need to maintain his pride. "I'm gonna come, baby," he warned, his voice strained.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes gleaming. "Mmm, I know," you said, your voice a sweet taunt. With a devilish smile you held his gaze as you stuck your tongue out, a line of saliva connecting your mouth to his glistening cock. Mat's hips jerked upwards involuntarily, his eyes widening with shock and pleasure.

"You're gonna lose that bet," you whispered, your breath warm against his sensitive skin. Mat's jaw clenched, and he nodded, the fight draining out of him. His hand reached for you, guiding you back down to him. "Good boy," you murmured, your mouth enveloping him again.

Mat's hips began to thrust slightly, his movements growing more urgent. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs, your own desire spiking at the sound of his desperate moans. You tightened your grip, your tongue swiping against the underside of his shaft. His hips bucked harder. With one last, deep suck, you felt him pulse in your mouth, the warmth of his release flooding your mouth.

Mat's body went rigid as he came, his breath hitching in his throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of him, and gave his cock one last gentle kiss before sitting back on your heels. You watched him, his chest heaving and eyes glazed over with pleasure.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by your ragged breathing. Then Mat's face contorted into a mix of frustration and relief. "Fuck," he muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. "How bad was I?"

You grinned, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Oh, you were pretty bad," you teased, your voice light and playful. "Ethan texted me about it. Said you were being a little bitch."

Mat's face reddened as he buried his face in a pillow, muffling his groan of embarrassment. You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's okay," you said, your voice gentle. "You're my little bitch."

Mat threw the pillow at you, his laughter joining yours. "Fuck off," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric.

You caught the pillow and tossed it aside, your smile widening. "It's all love, baby," you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "But seriously, you okay?"

Mat took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I just didn't know it would get to me like this."

Your expression softened, and you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble that had started to form. "No more dumb bets?" you asked, your voice a gentle reprimand.

Mat sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "No more dumb bets," he agreed, his voice gruff. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole."

Your smile was warm, your thumb continuing to stroke his cheek. "You should probably apologize to Ethan. Whatever you did to him, it's gotta be bad if he's asking for my help."

Mat chuckled, his irritation fading. "I'll text him later, tell him you talked some sense into me." He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Thank you, baby." He kissed you, the affection in his touch making your heart flutter.

#&. cassie writes.#&. nnn masterlist.#mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal angst #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal x reader #mathew barzal smut #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #x black reader #x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader

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distuff · 7 hours ago

Note

Not sure if you’re still taking requests if not that’s totally fine and understandable.

I was wondering if we could get headcanons on what cuddling and or napping with the Saja Boys is like?

That all the time you need, no rush! Thank you!

Answer: I know that you've asked wAAy before I had a proper system, lol, but AYE! I do ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ And oh...my...KAMI - OF COURSE YA CAN!! When I saw this idea I was like "Oh boi that's perfect!". I hope you'll enjoy yourself then~

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Demon Boys' And Snuggles

Featuring: Jinu Saja, Abs Saja, Romance Saja, Mystery Saja, Baby Saja Reader: Gender neutral

Jinu Saja

🐦‍⬛ Cuddling? Jinu had almost forgotten such a concept even existed. Not because it was rare - if not outright unheard of - for demons to indulge in it, but simply because he’d never had the time to consider it in the first place.

🐦‍⬛ Between keeping the guys in check so they didn’t “accidentally” expose what they were - coughRomancecough - and having to constantly churn out songs capable of swaying both humans and Hunter/X fans alike, Jinu didn’t exactly stop to daydream about cuddling.

🐦‍⬛ He wasn’t much for naps, either. He didn’t need sleep. And though he did enjoy the attention you gave him when you thought he was off in dreamland, pretending to sleep took more effort than it was worth most days.

🐦‍⬛ The bed in his room? It only saw use when you were around for him to keep up appearances. Occasionally, one of the guys would flop down on their own to kill time. But not him. Jinu had no trouble finding other ways to pass the hours when you weren’t there - or when everything else was already taken care of.

Like nothing. There was nothing left for Jinu to do now that everything was in place. The plan had been set, the threads laid out, and now all they could do was wait for one of the HUNTER/X to knock over the first domino. After that, it would all be about keeping up the momentum, following the ripple. And so, Jinu lay slouched on the couch, head tilted back until he was staring blankly at the white ceiling. The lights were dimmed so he wouldn’t also go blind from the glare, feeling as his ears were already ringing. The others were too absorbed in their latest addition to the ever-growing collection of human “stuff” to notice, anyway. That, or they’d gone already deaf and were just rolling with it. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his forehead, sighing. How did it come to this? It all started when Abby had accidentally purchased what was apparently called a “gaming console.” According to the description, it could transform their television - previously used to watch humans act in poorly-written dramas or survive in the wild while filming animals - into a new kind of screen that could interact with them through something called a “game.” All this because Abby was trying to figure out how the smaller TV with the attached keyboard - something labelled a laptop - worked. Which, frankly, was ridiculous, because Jinu had tried placing it on his lap and the damn thing wouldn’t stop shifting around when he trying pressing buttons on it. Another one of those misleading marketing names, he supposed. Several frustrating hours passed as they tried to get the TV and gaming setup to get to know one another so they could fuse. They failed. Miserably. When Mystery offered very helpfully - to “look into it,” Jinu immediately decided it was time to call you instead. If Mystery got his hands on it, there’d be no TV, no console, no game - just spare parts that would be useless to them, and Mystery demanding to have a new Tv. With your help, and a heavy dose of guilt-tripping - you somehow believed they’d simply missed out on childhood because of strict parents and intense trainee schedule - the setup was finally functioning. Technically, they weren’t lying. Syncing their movements, perfecting transformations, surviving Gwi-ma’s hellish "parenting"... none of that exactly left room for game nights. Now, Abby, you, Baby, and Romance were completely zeroed in on some high-speed racing game, taking turns battling each other with the two “controllers” as you’d called them. Whoever lost handed theirs off, and the cycle continued with far more competitiveness than necessary. Jinu sighed and turned his head slightly, eyes settling on Mystery. The older demon sat rigid, unmoving, but his aura practically buzzed with the need to get up and start poking at everything. Jinu could feel it - the deep, gnawing urge in Mystery to understand how the whole setup worked. Separately, together, inside-out. And no doubt, destroy it in the process. Which was precisely why Jinu had been stationed there. To make sure he didn’t.

Although Jinu’s aura was still weaker than Mystery’s, his senior openly respected him now that they were in the human world. Jinu was the one with a deeper knowledge of human culture, allowing him to be on equal grounds with his brother in rank. He winced slightly, head leaning back as if trying to physically escape the dull, buzzing ache pressing behind his eyes. That was when he tensed - he felt someone settle beside him, close enough to disturb his aura’s edge. Jinu didn’t expect physical contact from the others unless they were in front of “fans” and playing a part. Which meant... Of course, it was you. You, who didn’t adhere to the strict demon sense of hierarchy as a human. Who simply eased in beside him with a content look on your face and nuzzled into his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your arm slipped around his - still crossed tightly over his chest. That can’t be comfortable, he thought absentmindedly. His skin prickled where your body pressed against his. Your soul, once bright blue, had settled into a muted shade of violet. Uncertain. Caught between two allegiances, yet attached enough now that Jinu could touch you without triggering the painful burn from the Huntress's protection. Still, this close… your soul’s quiet hum was undeniable. There was no harm in indulging a little, he decided. If you were comfortable around him, if your soul leaned closer to crimson - even briefly - then maybe… Jinu relaxed his arms, unfolding them slowly before wrapping one around your shoulders. When your grip softened in response, he gently guided you against his chest, holding you there securely. This felt… like something. It wasn’t bad. His body did welcome the way your shy energy tried tangling with his own dulled aura, where for a second, a flare of crimson sharpened your wave. Then, it faded back into your soft violet. And yet, the phantom feeling of his soul stirred in response. He couldn’t quite decide if this was about you growing more attached to him, or if he was the one selfishly clinging to the feeling. The feeling of being seen, of having something warm press against the hollow flame inside him that never quite managed to consume enough to be satisfied. You startled him back to the moment with a soft chuckle, burying your grin into his chest. A faint smile crept onto his lips, tugged down by the remnants of his earlier thoughts. He leaned down, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as he spoke, voice low and teasing, “And what are you laughing at down there?” He felt a bit amused as he watched you angle your face up, sly smile playing across your lips. It softened as your hand reached up, gently massaging the wrinkle between his brows - one he hadn’t even noticed was there. “How you can’t stop being a workaholic. Even when you do have a day off,” you said, matching his low tone like it was a secret just for the two of you. Ironic, really - if the others hadn’t been so preoccupied, they’d have heard every word. Some of them would’ve shamelessly joined in just to tease him further. Jinu felt the contentment in your line, but he also sensed hesitation. A mild concern threading through your wavelength. He sighed quietly, then reached for your wrist, gently drawing your hand away from his forehead. He placed your palm against his mouth, letting his lips press to it softly before giving you a look - affectionate, and just a little playful.

You stared back, cheeks flushed. Jinu’s smirk deepened ever so slightly as he opened his mouth to speak- Only for your bubble of peace to be shattered. “Mystery, fuck off!” came Baby’s sharp voice. Closely followed by Romance’s more melodic, panicked lilt, “Oh my… TV-ya doesn’t seem to be feeling all that well…” Jinu’s lips pressed together, his expression flat as he slowly turned his head. Yeah. Mystery was gone. His eyes snapped to the front of the room where the others were gathered - and where the chaos was now in full swing. Your expression mirrored his, both of you paling at the sight. Mystery had begun dismantling the front layer of the television. Smoke drifted out from the cracked screen, sparks fizzing around Abby, who was clutching the console like a wounded animal, completely ignoring the dangerously tangled cables. Baby was trying to stop Mystery from literally peeling the screen off. Romance stood behind them, hands fluttering uselessly while trying to shield himself from the inevitable fallout. And then - right on cue - the blaring fire alarms kicked in. Sprinklers activated overhead, water pouring down. A robotic female voice rang out above them, cheerfully announcing that the staff had been alerted and their manager contacted. Oh, for the love of - ! Jinu acted instantly, pushing you down as he moved to shield you with his body - not from the water, but from the visual chaos unfolding around you. Parts of the others’ demonic features had already begun to slip through, distorted by the water washing off their glamours. They scrambled to cover themselves - hoods, pillows, whatever was nearby. He glanced over his shoulder. They looked to him. Jinu gave a sharp nod: go. He watched as they nodded back and quickly made their way to their respective rooms. Jinu kept a close eye on them- Then his brow furrowed. Abby was holding the console over his head like an umbrella with the thing now smoking. Jinu shot him a look. Abby blinked back, utterly unbothered, before continuing towards his room like he wasn’t carrying a fire hazard over his head. He sighed, pressing his face briefly into your back. The absurdity of it all settling in like a wet blanket. Your laughter rang out a second later - unrestrained, bright, and unbothered by the alarm still screeching above before it slowly turned off. J inu smiled faintly. At least you seem to be enjoying yourself. Now all he had to do was dry off, hide the emerging demon traits, and deal with the disaster before the staff arrived. And maybe fish his phone out of his room - where it was no doubt vibrating violently with the manager’s number lighting up the screen.

<><><>

Abs Saja

💪 Abby hadn’t slept once since arriving in the human world. He didn’t see the point - why waste time lying still when he could be out exploring everything this strange new world had to offer?

💪 He didn’t need sleep, so he simply didn’t bother. Besides, it took a considerable amount of energy for a demon to truly fall asleep - energy Abby had no intention of wasting just to lie there doing nothing, unlike Mystery and Romance.

💪 That was, until he met you. Suddenly, napping became a weapon - something he learned to wield just as skillfully as his demonic abilities.

💪 Hands-on experience, diving straight in. Quite literally.

Abby didn’t remember - even if you’d told him - why exactly you couldn’t stay in his shared apartment for more than two hours today. Mostly because Abby didn’t care. Why should he care about something that was only a possibility, not a certainty? So, while the two of you were out on the balcony, chatting about how he and the others had visited a nearby park two days ago - dragged there by Romance, who wouldn’t shut up about the wild deer you could feed, the colourful trees, and the “aesthetic vibes” - Abby had stared blankly at his senior, already prepared to vote no. He’d hoped someone else would be the deciding vote, but no such luck. All four had turned to him and said, “Just pick what you want already!” And when Abby was told to choose what he wanted, well - there was no reason not to listen. Unfortunately, that was right when Romance draped himself over Abby, patting his chest and purring something about newly installed, “hidden” exercise equipment deep in the park. Baby and Mystery, who had both voted no, immediately paled. Too bad. Abby’s eyes lit up. He voted yes before Romance could even finish his sentence, utterly ignoring the smug look Romance threw at the other two demons. Baby groaned dramatically, and Mystery’s demonic aura pulsed with visible irritation, though thankfully still suppressed. Abby had always wondered why his senior didn’t use that aura to control them into staying… or at least so he could stay behind. Oh well. The trip went great - as far as Abby was concerned. From what he heard later from Jinu, however, Romance had almost gotten them banned after picking a bunch of endangered flowers. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been for the fact that Baby tried feeding those same flowers to the deer. Which, apparently, were poisonous to the innocent creatures. It had taken Jinu promising through a demonic oath that Mystery never had to attend one of these outings again unless it was for a mission. Only then did the older demon calm the situation by using the honmoon waves of nearby bystanders and the guards to warp the memory into some cute little accident. Why couldn’t they just say they were Saja? Was his question later. Well, Abby had only gotten flat looks when he asked that, so… he supposed it was obvious. Still, for him at least? Totally worth the trip. He was just about to tell you what Jinu did as punishment for Baby and Romance when something started blaring in the background. You were quick to reach for it, just as Abby winced at the volume, his ears ringing. “Ah! Apologies, Abby! It’s time for me to go,” you said sheepishly, already stepping forward. “But we’ll finish this conversation - I can only imagine what Jinu did to them. They still looked half-dead when I arrived.” You rose up on your tiptoes and reached for him to kiss his cheek. Without hesitation, Abby leaned down, tilting his head slightly so you could reach with ease.

As you leaned away - no doubt about to offer another unnecessary goodbye - Abby took full advantage of your proximity. With a bored expression, he effortlessly hoisted you over his broad shoulder. You yelped, completely caught off guard. "Abs!" you scolded, smacking his back as he started walking off. "Put me down this instant! I'm not joking, Abby, I really need to go! It’s-" You launched into an explanation, but Abby only half-listened, nodding absently while his grip tightened around your waist - just enough to keep you from slipping and cracking your neck in your very ineffective escape attempt. As he strolled through the living room toward the stairs of their large apartment, Baby paused mid-suck on his lollipop. He raised a brow at the scene, then sighed and turned back toward the notebook in Jinu's lap. Jinu, for his part, looked completely scandalised - mouth agape, pen frozen mid-air like it might drop from his hand at any second. Baby lazily took the pen from him and jotted something down himself. Probably working on a new song, Abby mused absentmindedly, offering a cheeky salute to his 'leader' as he ascended the stairs - your squirming slowing into what looked suspiciously like resignation. Smart human. Abby beamed, his steps noticeably lighter. But he was a smarter demon. You could play nice all you wanted, pretend you were just going along with it - but your soul betrayed you. That beautifully loud crimson wave of yours was misbehaving, easily tearing itself from the honmoon barrier and swishing with mischief. No longer attached to the huntresses but to them - him. Which was why, when Abby finally dropped you onto the bed in his room, he was ready. Predictably, you tried to bolt. Equally predictably, Abby caught you with one steady arm, tugging you flush against his chest as he dropped down onto the plush mattress. He all but covered you with his body like a bear claiming something it saw as precious. Having done this many times now, Abby had learned to ease up some of his weight, allowing just enough room for you to breathe. Not like the first time, when you'd had to pinch him to let him know he was accidentally suffocating you. ...Oops? Now comfortably adjusted, Abby nuzzled into the crook of your neck with a contented smile. His arms coiled tightly around your form as he absorbed the comforting heat of your mixed emotions - your annoyance sparking lightly at the edges, but underneath it, a familiar jolt of happiness pulsed steadily from your soul. He took it all in greedily. The void inside him - vast, hollow, and starving - drank it down without hesitation. And just as Abby had grown used to this routine, so had you. Your resistance faded with a long, deep sigh, and your body softened against his. You knew from experience that the only way he’d move was if one of the others intervened, if they felt gracious enough hearing your pleas - or if you were actually dying of thirst, hunger, or some other critical need. As Abby began to relax, he tried to push aside Gwi-ma’s ever-present whispering in the back of his head, letting your presence drown it out. Your wave's warmth helped quiet his mind, letting his body slip into that strange drowsiness demons could settle on. Not real sleep. More of a dormant, hyper-aware resting state that helped preserve power. Abby had too much energy most of the time, but he’d learned to dim it by allowing your fragile human soul-thread to wrap around his aura like silk. He could devour it so easily if he just- Not yet, he thought with a faint smile, breath slowing. And then 0 your fingers began to play with his hair lazily, half-heartedly annoyed. Your wave swatted at his aura in a teasing manner, and though there was a low grumble of resistance in its flick, the underlying emotion was unmistakable. You were content. And so was he.

<><><>

Romance Saja

🌹 You want to cuddle with him? Ahahahahaha - ! That rich, disbelieving laugh rang out in his mind before abruptly cutting off. Wait... you're not joking?

🌹 Gwi-ma, no. If you thought Romance was the cuddly type - think again. He refuses to touch you, or for the record, let you touch him, especially if there's even a chance of sweat being exchanged.

🌹 In the summer? Forget it. You'd sooner shake hands with a ghost than get him hold your hand.

🌹 Does he let you nap with him? Gwi-ma shield him - absolutely not. What do you think he is, your own personal, fancy, free sweat pillow?

🌹 Romance might make you look like the prettiest thing walking. He’ll dote on you with makeup, dress you up in outfits that steal the spotlight, and make you forget how to breathe with just his lips...

🌹 But cuddle? Nap with you?

🌹 No. Just - no.

It could’ve been a peaceful day. Could have been. Romance had planned to spend it doing anything other than pretending to care about the unpolished ducklings he was obliged - by Jinu - to call “fans.” He’d looked forward to resting, basking in his well-earned magnificence, and avoiding being scolded yet again by people who knew how to use the magical box called a phone. Apparently, posting whatever he felt, replying to those notes in cryptic nonsense and gibberish - despite all the hearts he received for those - was still not the right approach. Who knew? So, when Jinu announced they had a day off, Romance had beamed with unfiltered joy while the others simply sighed, relieved to finally drop their human facades. Naturally, Romance wasted no time. The moment the words “day off” had left Jinu’s lips, he had declared he would call you over for a well-earned spa day, before standing up dramatically. The chorus of groans and complaints from the others didn’t faze him in the slightest. He felt the shift in their demonic auras the moment he stood - begrudging as it was, they all slipped back into their human forms as he was already dialing your number. Yes, today had promise. He had a vision. A plan. A lovely bonding day with you. So you really couldn’t blame him for feeling thoroughly exasperated when it turned into... this. “Romance. You can’t be serious right now.” You stood over him, arms crossed, brow furrowed, disbelief practically dripping from your voice. Romance, sitting on the edge of the bed, sighed through his nose. For what had to be the thousandth time today, he reminded himself: breathe. Looking up at you with something caught between confusion and irritation, he tried to keep his voice level. “As I said before, darling... I do not wish to cuddle with you simply because—” “—I'm sweaty to you.” You finished flatly, and rather sharply. Your tone made him sigh again, deeper this time. “No, darling. Unfortunately, both you and I produce sweat. And I find the idea of our bodily fluids mixing…” He shuddered for emphasis. “Repulsive.” “Oh. Because that makes so much sense,” you muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a hollow laugh. You shifted your weight, clearly pouting now, turning your gaze away from him. Romance suppressed yet another sigh. He just wanted to do his and your hair. Why did it have to turn into this emotional wrestling match? Honestly, he couldn’t even remember how the conversation started. One moment you were picking a nail polish colour, and the next you were - trying to - climb into his lap.

He, of course, gracefully dodged. Which brings you to the unforeseen presence. Sigh. “Love, please. Can we just set this aside and focus on more important matters?” he tried, hopeful. You stared him down with such heat it scorched whatever flicker of hope he had left. “No? Really? This is ridiculous, Romance. I get it in the summer, alright? But it’s autumn. The windows are closed. The heater’s off. Indoors! Can you even feel yourself sweat?” Romance opened his mouth to answer, but you threw a hand up, eyes narrowed. “That was rhetorical.” He groaned, tossing his head back, shoulders sagging dramatically. “Dear~, what do you want me to do about it? I’ve told you, I find it revolting. Just because you feel like cuddling doesn’t make it my problem now, does it?” Wrong thing to say. Your glare could have flayed a lesser demon. Romance felt his own irritation boil over. He rose smoothly, towering over you, and threw his hands into the air. “What exactly do you want me to do? Wrap us in sleeping bags? Dress us in-” He froze mid-sentence. His eyes widened, a familiar demonic flame flickering to life above his head. That perfect spark of inspiration. You blinked at his sudden stop, clearly uncertain, your brows inching up. “Romance?” you said slowly. His mouth curled into a grin - a wide, wicked thing full of dangerous creativity. “You’re a genius,” he whispered. You glanced away, expression uncertain. “Thanks?” He waved your words off like speck of dust. “Oh, no no no, Love. Not you. I’m the genius here.” He pinched your cheek lightly with a teasing smirk. “You’re just stubborn and refuse to take no for an answer~.” Before you could swat his hand away, he’d already turned on his heel and crossed the room, flinging open his closet with a flourish. With a gleam in his eye, he strode inside like a "man" on a mission.

His genius plan had ended with the two of you wearing body-hugging turtlenecks - matching, of course. And yes, he had willingly parted with one of his own so you could wear it too. It's yours now, you're welcome. Though a little baggy on you, he decided it looked fashionably oversized. Stylish, really. And since his opinion was the only one that mattered, the verdict was final. Now, the two of you sat side by side on the edge of the bed - Romance beaming, you looking thoroughly unimpressed, arms crossed. Still, you weren’t glaring anymore, and to him that was undeniable progress. A step towards the peaceful, luxurious day he had envisioned. Ignoring the very pointed side-eye you gave him, Romance draped his clothed arm over your equally clothed shoulders, tugging you closer until your head rested in the crook of his neck - well, the covered crook of his neck. He kept smiling, even though he could faintly feel the shudder in your wave - irritated, unimpressed, maybe even a little amused. Still, a win was a win, and Romance would take it. That said, he much preferred when your honmoon wave wasn’t so... stiff. But using his demonic aura to soothe it would only aggravate you further. And unfortunately, you were still very much loyal to the huntresses so touching it would just burn him. That left him with some... human emotional regulation, he guessed. Which he was not the greatest with. Especially not when it came in the form of “I want comfort from you, but also want to fight you.” So, drawing on his very limited inspiration, he copied something he’d once seen in one of those absurd dramas Mystery seemed to be obsessed with lately. Still smiling, cheek barely brushing the top of your head, Romance raised a hand and - robotically, awkwardly - began patting you. Straightforward. Repetitive. Like someone trying to calm a growling cat. His eyes remained fixed ahead, blank and unmoving as he continued the awkward patting. But then - you shifted, your chin moving so you could peer up at him. He felt your line sharpening in subtle judgment, then wavering in confused hesitation before softening entirely. You snorted, and amusement rippled through your bright blue wave, smoothing it into something far more pleasant. Romance nearly sighed in relief as your wave mellowed into something teasing, easing the air in the room. But then- You moved. Before he could blink, your arms wrapped around his waist. He only had a split second to glance down, confusion flitting across his face- -and then you yanked. Or tried to. You may have forgotten for a moment that Romance was a demon with otherworldly strength. Your sudden tug only succeeded in dragging yourself down, latching onto him like a determined koala. Now you were curled around his side on the bed, arms locked around his waist, face hidden somewhere in his back. Romance sat there, one hand still awkwardly raised in the air, blinking down at your tangled limbs with a look of mild amusement. Your wave spoke of shy contentment now, but the deep blush dusting your ears was louder than any line in the honmoon barrier could ever be. “Don’t.. Say.. Anything. Just lie down,” came your muffled demand. Romance blinked. Then his smile returned. Your arms squeezed tighter in warning. Gracefully, he lowered himself beside you, pausing just long enough for you to make room before lying down fully. You adjusted with a soft shuffle, repositioning so you could still cling to him while the two of you properly shared the mattress. Now lying face to face, your gaze hovered somewhere near his chin, very pointedly not meeting his eyes. He didn’t mind. He reached out, fingers brushing your cheek, then gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips deliberately tickled the shell of it. “So demanding~” he teased with a purr. Your foot shot out and kicked his ankle. He yelped.

<><><>

Mystery Saja

🐶 If you want a cuddle or a nap buddy, Mystery is your demon.

🐶 He’ll quite happily lie still and do absolutely nothing while you get your much-needed human rest - and in return, he gets a few blissful hours of peace away from the chaos that constantly brews behind his bedroom door. It’s a win-win, really.

🐶 You get the physical comfort you crave, and he gets to exist in rare, undisturbed silence - where everything feels like it’s on standby.

🐶 But truthfully, it wasn’t just the quiet that made Mystery agree so quickly. Maybe, if you weren’t so enamoured by him, you’d have noticed it by now.

🐶 He liked to believe humans were at least somewhat clever. After all, despite the fact their innovations had rotted a good portion of their cognitive processing, they had still created a kind of dark magic - technology - using only the earth’s resources. That, in itself, was impressive. Fascinating, even.

🐶 Needless to say, the second you fell asleep, Mystery made full use of the time.

🐶 He observed you. Meticulously. He studied every strand of hair, noting exactly where each one grew from your scalp and how it could have developed. Your skin - every pore, every faint freckle, every hidden beauty mark, whether visible or shyly tucked out of sight. He traced the structure of your ears, curious about the small bumps and folds. Your jawline. The slope of your nose. Your eyelashes. The delicate shape of your collarbone. Everything.

🐶 Mystery used this time to understand the changes - the slow, intricate evolution of the human body since the era he remembered being one himself.

Mystery noted how human skin had become a bit rougher over the centuries. Though, perhaps that was more to do with how you weren’t treated like you were made of the finest porcelain - unlike how he had once been. He also noticed how the human frame had grown slightly smaller. Not by much, but enough. Your hands were smaller, your fingers shorter. Mystery had been considered slim and short in his era, yet beside you, he felt taller. Broader. Perhaps it’s the lack of external threats, he mused absently, his clawed hand gently tracing a path down the centre of your throat to the top of your chest. It was a path he’d explored countless times, yet it remained full of undiscovered possibilities. His eyes, hidden beneath his fringe, sharpened in focus as your soul stirred beneath the surface - responding to his touch. That once-scorching blue hue had long since melted into a warm, soothing crimson - finally allowing him, and others, to be more physical with you without burning for it. Mystery tilted his head slightly, fringe parting to reveal a glint of glowing gold. His eyes, slitted and bright, widened just a bit. He slowly leaned forward, one hand hovering still above the warm pulse of your soul while the other supported his weight. You lay peacefully beneath him, the soft sound of your snores the only thing cutting through the silence of the room. He exhaled quietly as the soul’s glow reflected faintly on his demonic features that had begun to seep through his glamour. It was… enticing. That heat. The faint sweetness. The savoury tang your soul left on his tongue. Not yet... He reminded himself, jaw tightening faintly. He’d never had the chance to properly examine this particular change when he was hunting. He hadn’t even known it was possible to weaken the honmoon barrier like this. I’ll have to praise Jinu for that. Ask him how he figured it out… the thought trailed off, distracted, as he raised the hovering clawed hand and made a subtle pulling motion - purely to test a theory. His curious gaze tracked the way your soul followed, lifting just slightly, your breath hitching as if it tugged at your lungs. Your chest rose with it, straining like your soul was dragging your very body upwards. He held it for only a second longer before releasing it, opening his palm. Your chest fell along with the soul, dimming back into its dormant state. You were heaving softly now, face scrunching in discomfort - clearly on the verge of waking. Mystery couldn’t allow that. Not yet. With gentler fingers, he shifted his clawed hand a little higher, turning his palm until he felt it - your familiar line. No longer part of the protective barrier. Softer now. More whimsical. Without hesitation, Mystery caught the strand with the tip of his claw and tugged - carefully. The crimson flared again, just for a moment, before he let go and traced the length of it with a fingertip. You shuddered, your body reacting instinctively, then melted back into a deep, undisturbed slumber. Turning slightly, you pressed yourself closer to him.

How fascinating… The thought echoed once more as he let you steal his warmth, his golden gaze watching your form from beneath his fringe. The line of your soul stubbornly kept to his hand, trying to cling like ivy. Mystery ignored it - for now. Instead, he shifted you slightly, careful not to wake you, and rested his clawed hand against your chest once more. The moment he made contact, dark markings began to seep into the grey of his skin, your soul reacting instinctively to him. A sharp grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Thanks to you, Mystery had learned just how vast a demon of his rank could stretch their influence when granted the full devotion of a human soul - one that willingly intertwined itself with demonic energy. Over the years, he’d found that fewer and fewer souls appealed to him. Most had grown dull - bland in flavour, muted in depth. Pollution? Dark magic? Or just the plague of human ignorance, he mused, noting how rare it had become to find a soul still brimming with colour. Wonder. Emotion. But you… You still held onto that brilliance. That raw feeling. Your emotions never diluted - when you cried, when you laughed, when stress took hold or joy overtook you, your soul responded with such intensity it made it harder and harder for Mystery to restrain himself. To not corner you. To not devour what he’d long since claimed as his. He knew his human illusion had fallen. Could feel it in the pressure of his upper tusks, the shadow cast by his fully realised form now looming over your sleeping figure. You remained unaware. Untroubled. Relaxed. Soon… The thought purred through his mind as a low rumble escaped his chest. He leaned down, letting his face nuzzle into your cheek, then traced his nose downward - along the curve of your ear, the slope of your neck. Finally, he let his head rest there, basking in the steady warmth your soul poured into him. His grin deepened. The rumble in his chest swelled into something far more content.

<><><>

Baby Saja

🍼 If you wanted to touch him, you’d have to wait until he initiated it first. Especially when it came to cuddling - which was already rare enough as it was.

🍼 Baby didn’t nap either. It took more mental effort than simply staying awake and staring off into nothing.

🍼 So, any chance of physical attention from Baby was slim. Not impossible, but unlikely - unless it involved him using you as an armrest or a pillow, or tossing himself across your lap just to bother you. Anything soft or genuinely affectionate? That would almost never happen unless he initiated it himself.

🍼 If you ever tried to initiate cuddling or suggest a nap, Baby would just step back and give you a strange look - like you’d eaten something strange.

But there were still times when Gwi-ma’s voice drilled into his skull - a buzzing, crackling noise like fire. Baby had long since recognised it as his King’s laughter, joined by other voices he couldn’t name. They stirred something in him, made his muscles tense and his jaw lock. He'd either want to slam his head against the sharpest surface to ease the pressure or tear into something, preferably something that could bleed. Gwi-ma’s voice, ever persistent, would start asking the usual questions - WHEre aRE thEy? HOw loNg? HoW MAny? = as though Baby had the answers, as if he was supposed to track down one of his seniors when even he had no clue where they’d gone. When he couldn’t respond, or what he said wasn’t enough, the King would push further, flooding Baby’s head with those damn voices that made his teeth clench. He'd asked once - how do you deal with it? Abby had said he just blasts music through the cool human mufflers until his eardrums feel like they’ll burst. Romance claimed sorting through his clothes helped him tune out Gwi-ma. Jinu said Tiger and Magpie did most of the deflecting. And Mystery? Temples, apparently. “They work wonders.”

Baby had tried all of it. Abby’s method left his ears ringing for a full week - but he was proud he could still perform through it. Sorting through his wardrobe only made him stare blankly at shirts he didn’t even remember owning. Tiger and Magpie helped quiet the voices, but not enough. Gwi-ma still got through. And stepping onto temple grounds? He didn’t even make it past the front gate before nausea hit like a sledgehammer. Lightheaded, sick, and disoriented, he stumbled back to the apartment. So why - why did it all work for them but not for him? He’d finally asked Mystery one night, catching him in what felt like a good mood. Baby had wanted to know - do the others hear Gwi-ma the way he does? That loud? That constant? Mystery had stared at him for a long while. Even without seeing his eyes, Baby could tell the elder demon was evaluating him. Then came a simple, “No.” That was it. No explanation, no elaboration. Just no. It left Baby stunned. No? ...No?! Frustrated, voice rising in spite of himself, he’d snapped - tired of the constant headaches, tired of the pressure, the cackling, the voices crawling under his skin every single time. But Mystery only asked one thing. Something simple. Too simple. “What was your contract?” The words had stopped him cold. Asking another demon about their contract was personal. Intrusive. And yet, it struck something deep inside Baby that he hadn’t wanted to dig up. Now, with that same memory dragging itself to the front of his mind, Baby groaned and pushed his head shamelessly into your neck, trying to block everything out. Shut up, shut up... He repeated the words in his head as Gwi-ma’s voice rose, dragging others with it - familiar but faceless, pressing into his temples until he felt feverish and cold all at once. He rolled his tongue along the inside of his mouth, looking for anything grounding, but there was nothing. Just his own breath and the heat of it. Then - your hand. Hesitant, but there. Gentle fingers pushed through his tangled hair. Baby shuddered. Pressed closer. “Yeah...” he exhaled, the word more breath than voice. He needed more. You understood. Your fingers dug a little deeper, massaging his scalp with growing confidence. His body twitched under your warm touch, instinctively recoiling from contact - but he forced himself to stay still. His mind felt quieter with you touching him like this. So he shifted you further down onto the couch, ignoring the tangle of your wave still tightly woven through the honmoon barrier, scorching and embarrassed but quietly pleased. He nuzzled into your neck as your other hand moved to his shoulder, kneading gently. Baby melted under the care, tension leaving him little by little. He focused on the sensation of you. Not the voices. Not the heat behind his eyes. Just your hands, grounding him. He didn’t care if you pushed him away, or snapped his neck, or left him vulnerable. None of that mattered. What mattered was the stillness you brought - how your presence made his thoughts slow, his breathing steady, his body begin to relax. One breath. Then another. For now, this was what mattered.

234 notes · View notes

koojks · 4 months ago

Text

note: did someone say.. progess? LOL.. actually maybe i'm lying, but there's definitely a shift. i just love making things difficult . anyways this is my favourite part so far!! so i hope u enjoy :)

wc: 4.5k

The library is too bright.

Sunlight filters through the massive windows, stretching across the wooden tables, in long, golden streaks. The usual midday crowd is here. Groups huddled around textbooks, hushed voices discussing equations, and the rhythmic tapping of fingers against keyboards filling the space.

It’s louder than last time.

That night, it had been quiet, still, empty. There were no distractions. However, this time, it’s much busier, the atmosphere is different. But that’s not the problem.

The problem is him.

Jungkook is already here.

You’re not sure why, but the fact of it bothers you slightly.

Maybe it’s because you had counted on at least ten minutes of peace before he inevitably strolled in with some half-assed excuse for being late. That’s how it worked. That’s how it’s supposed to work. Maybe because it feels like a bit of a ‘fuck you’ call, to do this after last time, when he left you alone for almost an hour.

But, nonetheless. he’s here.

Sitting at the same table as before. Settled, sleeves pushed up, one arm stretched lazily over the back of a chair. His laptop open, notebook flipped to a page with actual notes on it. Pen twisting slowly between his fingers.

Like he’s been here.

Like he’s been waiting.

You don’t pause, you don’t let it show that it throws you off. Instead, you pull out the chair across from him. and drop into it unceremoniously.

“You’re early.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t even look up at first.

“Or maybe you’re late.” he says, pen now tapping against his notebook.

Your eyes narrow at his response. “That’s a bold accusation for someone who could barely show up last session.”

That gets his attention.

He tilts his head slightly, finally glancing at you. The pen between his fingers, twirling once more before stopping entirely.

“People change.” He says simply.

You let out a scoff, opening your laptop. “Yeah? Since when?”

Jungkook shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “Since right now.”

You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to pull up the project document and start working.

Jungkook doesn’t push it.

Which is weird.

Normally he’d drag things out. Argue simply to hear himself talk. Prove a point that never needed proving in the first place.

But today, he just exhales through his nose, clicks on the document, and begins writing once again.

You’re not sure what to do with that.

So, you don’t do anything at all.

You fall into a rhythm.

The scratching of pen against paper. The quiet, muted clacks of your keyboard. The weight of silence hanging between you. Not unbearable, but not exactly comfortable either.

Jungkook is actually working.

Which in itself is suspicious.

You keep waiting for something. For him to sigh dramatically, roll his eyes, complain.

But he doesn’t

Instead, he seems rather focused. His jaw tenses slightly when he reads through something. Playing with the piercing on his lip relentlessly. You notice his fingers tapping lightly against the table, before he crosses something out and rewrites it.

It’s almost more annoying than when he wasn’t trying at all.

Because at least when he’s an asshole, its predictable. You almost expect it from him. it’s become the not so pleasant dynamic between the both of you. Natural, almost.

Now? You don’t know what the hell to do with this.

The silence stretches.

But for some reason, your attention is situated on him.

Jungkook is sitting back now. Gaze trained on his laptop screen. His posture casual, like he’s barely paying attention, but his brows furrow slightly when he reads something. His sleeves are still pushed up high, exposing the veins running down his forearms, wrist flicking as he scribbles something in the margins of the notes.

It’s annoying.

He’s annoying.

“Stop staring.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook doesn’t even look up. “You’re staring.”

You roll your eyes. “I was just lost in thought.”

He hums, finally meeting your gaze. “Thinking about me?”

The words come out of his mouth so easily, so smoothly, that it barely registers at first. But something in the way he says it. expectant. certain. like its obvious, makes your lips part slightly before you shut your mouth again.

Because of course he thinks that.

Of course, he expects people to think about him.

Jungkook isn’t just anyone on campus, you know this. people know him. He’s popular, sought after. The type of guy whose name runs in passing conversations, whose presence automatically shifts the energy in a room.

And he knows it.

Which is probably why he’s looking at you like he’s right. Like he’s waiting for you to admit it. The realization hits.

And then, just as quickly, it pisses you off.

Jesus Christ.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You mutter, shaking your head, diverting your attention to your laptop.” You’re insufferable.”

Jungkook grins, but something flickers behind his expression. It’s gone before you can process it. You don’t have time to dwell on it anyway. You don’t particularly care.

Instead, you both fall back into your work.

A while passes before Jungkook speaks again.

“You look exhausted.”

The words land softly, almost too casual, like he’s barely paying attention. But when you glance up, his eyes are already on you.

It makes you feel strange.

Your fingers hesitate over the keyboard before you sigh gently, shaking your head. “Long week.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply right away.

Instead, he leans back, stretching his arms over his head, before dropping them loosely by his sides. His jaw shifts, like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

The silence feels endless until— “You should rest more.”

It’s so unexpected, so out of place, that your brain stutters for a second.

You blink “What?”

Jungkook shrugs and brings his attention back to his notes, breaking the eye contact you two shared, as if he said nothing at all. “Just saying, you’re zoning out.”

There’s nothing teasing in his tone. no smugness. no lazy amusement.

Just an observation.

Which somehow makes it worse.

You don’t reply. Just go back to your screen, ignoring the way your chest tightens slightly.

Not awkward. not tense.

Just... different.

Your focus is slipping.

It’s subtle at first. The words on your screen blur together, your fingers hesitate over your keyboard, eyes flickering towards the time in the corner of your laptop screen. You have no idea what the last thing you even typed was.

The last hour has bled into itself.

The steady rhythm of researching, analyzing, summarizing, feels excruciatingly repetitive now. Your neck aches faintly, your posture has collapsed slightly and there’s a dull hum in your brain that wasn’t there before.

You weren’t lying when you had told Jungkook it had been a long week. This project may have drained you mentally, sure. But class work was slowly piling up. and most nights had been an array of dark rooms and bright screens, ensuring you don’t fall behind in any subject. You were tired...

You flex your fingers, stretching them against the table.

Five seconds.

That’s all you need.

So, without really thinking about it, you grab your phone. It’s instinct, a small break, a way to reset before diving back into the mundane mess that is waiting for you.

But before you even unlock it, the screen lights up.

A message.

Taehyung: Jimin said you’re still at the library like a LOSER

Taehyung: hurry up, movie night. i already picked something none of you are gonna like

You exhale, unlocking your phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

You: how does it feel being the most unbearable person I know

The response is almost immediate.

Taehyung: sexy of me tbh.

Taehyung: don’t take 500 years getting here. love u xoxo

You scoff quietly, shaking your head. what an idiot

It’s nothing urgent, just him being him. but your fingers move anyways, tapping out a reply. It’s supposed to be quick.

But then another text comes through.

And another.

And before you realize it, your focus has completely shifted.

“Having fun?”

The words cut through the silence, taking away from your distraction.

Your fingers pause over your phone screen before you look up.

Jungkook isn’t looking at you directly. His chin rests against his palm, elbow propped up on the table, gaze flickering lazily between his work and you.

Casual. Flat.

But seemingly annoyed.

You stare at him. “What?”

Jungkook nods towards your phone. “Are we done studying now hm? Should I start scrolling on twitter too?”

You scoff, locking your phone and placing it back on the table. “It was one message.”

“Right.” his pen rolls between his fingers. “Just one.”

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and boring your eyes into his. “Not that it's any of your business.”

Jungkook doesn’t look impressed.

He also doesn’t look away.

Instead, his fingers tap once against the table before he speaks again.

“Just Taehyung?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

Jungkook hums under his breath. “Figures.”

Your jaw clenches slightly at his passive comment. “What does that mean?”

He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms and biting at his lip ring once again. a small smile appearing on his face. His gaze flicks towards you- bored, amused.

“Should’ve expected this. Not like you have many other friends.”

Your jaw almost drops. What a dick.

“You are so annoying.”

Jungkook smirks. “Am I wrong?”

You glare. “Yes.”

“Alright.” He leans forward, arms resting on the table. “Name three.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook grins, bright smile showing. like he found the outmost joy in taking the piss out of you. “That’s the reaction of someone with exactly two friends.”

You consider throwing your pen at him. But before you can, your phone vibrates again.

You glance down. Another text from Taehyung.

Taehyung: Jimin's already on his way. u better be too

Jungkook notices. His smirk drops, barely. And then, like it’s nothing, he shifts once again in his chair.

“What’s so important that you’ve given up on studying anyways.”

You shrug. unlocking your screen again, all focus on your phone as you reply. “He invited me over for movie night.”

Jungkook pauses. Falters slightly. “...Ah.”

You look up at him. “What.”

Jungkook rolls his shoulders, eyes flickering to the window, staring intently at the trees. acting as unbothered as one possibly can. “Yeah. He mentioned something to me earlier. Thought it was just gonna be me and him.”

Something about the way he says it, makes you feel weird.

Not annoyance.

Not jealousy.

Just… something.

“He probably just forgot to tell you.”

Jungkook hums, clicking his pen a few times. “Yeah.” He mutters. “Guess so.”

The moment stretches too long before you decide to let it go.

The library has emptied out by the time you both start gathering your things. Pens clicking shut, laptops closing with a quiet snap, bags slung over shoulders. Jungkook moves slower than usual, like he’s almost not in a rush to leave.

Maybe you aren’t either.

Finally stepping outside, the air is colder than before, the sun is still out, barely, sky cloudy, thick with something unspoken.

Jungkook is already half a step ahead of you when he speaks.

“You need a ride?”

You pause. Almost falter. He says it so casually, that for a second, it didn’t even fully register in your brain. Or maybe it’s because why the fuck would he say that?

“You glance up at him, eyes trained on his face. “What?”

Jungkook exhales, as if he regrets this already. “A ride. To our place?”

You’re still processing this. You blink, thrown off. “You’re offering me a ride?”

Jungkook scoffs. “No. I’m asking you if you want to freeze.”

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want the lift. but because he’s the one offering.

A week ago, he hadn’t.

It was raining then, pouring actually. Much worse weather than it was today. Your backpack was literally soaked through. clothes clinging heavily to your skin, and Jungkook had barely spared you a glance before heading off that day, never mind a word.

And now, he was here, offering.

You shift on your feet. “Why?”

Jungkook looks at you, no emotion can be found behind his eyes, but he doesn’t break the contact you two share.

“Because I live there.” He mutters, adjusting the strap on his bag. “And I’d be kind of a dick to make you walk, especially since we are going to the same place. I’m not that awful you know.”

It’s casual. Thrown out like it’s an afterthought. But something about it sticks.

You suppose it’s better not to dwell on it, you’ve spent a lot of time with this man in the last week. Instead, you nod, messing with the rings on your fingers as a makeshift distraction. “Fine.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, he nods slightly and continues walking to his car.

This time not ahead of you, but next to you.

The walk to his car feels longer, and it’s quiet. almost too quiet.

The air is slowly getting colder, crisp and sharp, slipping through the fabric of your jacket as the two of you make your way through the dimly lit parking lot. The sky has shifted a lot in a short amount of time. It’s now a deeper shade of blue, the last remnants of daylight stretching across the sky in streaks of orange and violet.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, doesn’t glance at you, just unlocks the car with a silent click of his key, and takes himself to the driver's side like this is totally normal.

But it’s not normal.

Not for either of you.

Because despite sharing the same friend group, and spending several hours together for this group project, this is really the first time you’ve spent with each other truly alone. with no obligations. No one else is around, no distractions.

And that feels noticeable.

You hesitate briefly before opening the passenger door and sliding into the seat. The car smells clean, like leather, with something sharper underneath. Probably his cologne. It lingers enough to make you feel somewhat hyper aware of this unpredicted situation.

Jungkook doesn’t start the car right away. He takes his time, adjusts his seat, and shifts around slightly, fingers drumming softly against the steering wheel.

You get the feeling he’s waiting for you to do or say something first.

So, you pull out your phone. Deciding it’s the simplest way to avoid such an awkward situation. Scrolling mindlessly, pretending he’s not here.

The silence stretches. And for some strange reason he doesn’t put on music. Maybe he’s just focused, or maybe he’s equally aware of how strange this moment is.

You don’t really like the thought of that.

Jungkook exhales, sharp but quiet. “You always this easy to shut up?”

You glance at him. “You always this desperate to hear my voice?”

His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t take the bait. Rather, he finally starts the car, and the low rumble of the engine fills the silence between you two.

As he pulls out of the parking lot, the streetlights flicker one by one, illuminating the inside of the car softly. The passing headlights of other cars on the road cascade over Jungkook’s profile, enhancing the sharp outline of his jaw, the dim sparkle of his piercing, and the soft look in his eyes, as they flick between the road and the rearview mirror.

You’re not too sure why you notice. Or why you’re suddenly so aware of the way the lights move on his skin, shifting with each passing second. Maybe it’s because for once, he’s not being insufferable.

Or maybe it’s because you’ve never had the chance to look before.

Whatever the reason it, it weighs on you for a moment, it feels quite unsettling.

“You’re quieter when we’re not arguing.”

You blink, snapping out of it. “Huh?”

He doesn’t glance at you, just focuses intently on the road. “Feels weird. I think you’re more annoying when you’re silent.”

You scoff. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a quiet laugh. “That’s a first.”

His fingers drum idly against the gear shift. “You spend half of your time arguing with me. What? do you just pick and choose when to bite back?”

You roll your eyes. “I argue with you because you are so difficult with me.”

He smirks slightly, flicking on his turn signal. “Right.”

The silence that follows is different to the last. Less tense, but still not comfortable. Like something has shifted, and neither of you really know how to place it.

You turn toward the window, watching the city move past. The glow of the streetlights flash in and out of view, the scenery calming.

Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose. You’re too busy looking out of the window to think much of it. Until he speaks again

“You look better when you’re not scowling you know.”

Your fingers twitch.

It’s not a compliment. Not really.

But from the way he usually speaks to you? he basically sung your praise.

A second passes. Then another. You don’t say anything.

He clears his throat. “Not that I care or anything.”

You exhale a short laugh, shaking your head as you turn to look at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“Tragic for you.”

The weight of something lingers. You feel it in the quiet that follows once again, in the way the streetlights blur outside, in the way Jungkook’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel before he finally pulls into the street of his flat.

Neither of you speak when he parks.

That moment. Whatever it was. Ends.

Jungkook shuts off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of his car without a word. You take a second longer before following.

The cold air outside does something to shake off whatever that drive was. Not entirely, but it seems to make you feel lighter.

Jungkook walks ahead to the apartment building, he doesn’t wait for you, but he doesn’t rush either. Just moves at his usual pace, knowing you’ll follow.

By the time you reach the door, he unlocks it, pushes it open, and steps aside without looking at you.

“Go ahead,” he says quietly.

You do.

And as soon as you step inside. As soon as the familiar scent of their apartment settles in your lungs, you come to realize. That shift that started in the car?

It followed you inside.

The apartment door clicks shut behind you, enclosing the warmth of the space. It’s The kind of warmth that is created by the energy of people who exist comfortably, peacefully.

The scent of something woody and citrusy lingers in the air, more than likely one of Taehyung’s candles that he has forgotten to blow out. The lighting is slow, softened by the faint blue glow of the TV screen, casting soft shadows across the room.

There’s a familiarity here. In a home that isn’t yours, but for some reason it just feels like it belongs to the people in it.

Taehyung is in the kitchen, stirring something lazily in a mug. Tea, you assume. His sleeves bunched up to his elbows. Jimin is draped across a couch. stretched out like he owns it, one arm thrown behind his head while he mindlessly scrolls on his phone. The two of them don’t look up immediately when you and Jungkook step inside.

Finally, Jimin glances up, gaze flicking between the two of you, his mouth slowly quirking into an amused smile.

“Oh, that’s cute.”

Jungkook doesn’t even entertain it.

He doesn’t pause, doesn’t react. just exhales loudly thought his nose and heads straight to the kitchen. opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. Like he needs to do something to drown out this conversation.

Your brows furrow. “What is?”

Jimin gestures vaguely in your direction with his phone. “You guys showed up together.”

You blink. “We literally came from the same place.”

Taehyung hums, lifting his mug and taking a slow sip. “And now you’re arriving at the same place.”

Jimin nods. “Together.”

Jungkook exhales sharply from the kitchen, muttering something under his breath.

Taehyung just grins, setting down his mug on the counter. “Relax, we’re just making an observation.”

Jimin smirks. “Yeah, there’s no problem, right?”

You shake your head, ignoring them as you make your way towards the couch.

“I hate you both.”

Jimin lifts his hands in surrender. “And yet, here you are.”

The apartment settles into a peaceful rhythm.

The soft rustling of Taehyung flipping through movie choices. The occasional complaint from Jimin about every option. The background hum of the city filtering through the windows.

Jungkook is still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping his water like it’s giving him something to do. His presence isn’t loud. He’s always had this ability to take up space without really demanding attention, and for some reason, you feel it today.

Jimin stretches out on the floor now, crossing his arms behind his head as he watches Taehyung cycle through movies at a painfully slow pace.

Casually, without diverting his attention, he speaks up.

“You good man?”

Jungkook barely reacts.

Just shifts his weight slightly against the counter, his jaw tensing for a split second before he scoffs.

“What are you talking about.”

Jimin finally lifts his head, studying him for a second. Then shrugs. “Dunno. You just seem-”

Jungkook interrupts, exhaling and tilting his head back slightly. “I’m fine.”

Jimin's lips twitch. “Defensive.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. Just takes another slow sip of his water, like he’s done with the conversation. But something about it lingers.

You sink into one on the couches, leaning slightly against the armrest. It’s comfortable, cozy. Everyone is settled in.

Besides Jungkook.

He eventually moves away from the kitchen, walking lazily towards the living room. However, you can’t help but feel what he’s doing is calculated. He doesn’t sit next to Jimin on the floor, you suppose he’d sit on the couch with Taehyung if he wasn’t outright lying across the whole thing.

But he sits next to you.

It’s not an event, it’s not a moment, but you recognize it. You feel it.

The apartment settles into silence as the movie begins, the glow of the screen covering the room in flickering shadows. It’s a thriller. Quiet, straightforward. The kind of film that thrives on tension rather than action. It’s quite boring, in all honesty. But you watch it, nonetheless, trying to make sense of whatever is happening on the screen.

You move slightly, adjusting into the cushions, letting the film pull your focus. Not paying much mind to what you’re doing really. And then it happens.

Not a deliberate movement. Not something intentional.

Just a shift.

A slow, unthinking action, as you attempted to settle more comfortably into your space. Except when you moved, your leg presses against Jungkook’s.

Not a graze, or a fleeting touch.

It settles there.

You can feel the warmth of his body seeping to yours. Neither of you move.

Not right away.

Not even when the moment stretches too long, to the point where it’s no longer an accidental touch. When the weight of it becomes something tangible, something felt.

Jungkook doesn’t tense. He doesn’t move away. He just...let's it exist.

And so do you.

For a second you tell yourself you’re imagining the heaviness of it. That if you really acknowledge it, like you are, then it will make it a thing, and neither of you are in the business of making things a thing.

You are so weirdly lost in the thought of it, until Jimin notices.

It’s not loud, not obnoxious.

Just a slow, downward glance. A flicker of recognition, before his lips curve upward, smirk barely concealed.

“Interesting.” he whispers.

Jungkook shifts.

And suddenly, the space made it enough to mean nothing.

The warmth lingers, for a moment. and neither of you so much as look in the direction of each other. But what just happened, felt like you acknowledged each other in a way that isn’t spoken with words.

The movie presses forward, progressing at a horrifically slow pace. But you aren’t following at all.

The atmosphere in the room feels weird. Though nothing has particularly happened to warrant it. It’s still the same dim lighting, the same quiet dialogue on screen, the same people sharing the same space. But something feels off.

Jungkook hasn’t moved much since shifting away earlier, but there’s something about the way he’s sitting now. It’s subtle, but there’s a quiet stiffness to his posture, and a tenseness in his hands where they rest awkwardly in his lap.

You all watch in silence, some more entertained than others. Until, his phone buzzes.

It’s quiet, hardly noticeable beneath the hum of the film, but you see it.

See the way his fingers tighten around the device, the way his gaze flickers down, almost intently, reading something that doesn’t change his expression, but does something.

It’s brief, the way his thumb swipes over the screen, but the glow of the notification illuminates long enough that you catch it.

A name.

One you don’t recognize.

But then again, why would you?

Because the second he registers it, he moves.

Jungkook exhales, sitting forward like he’s making this decision in real time, like he’s choosing his next action in a way that isn’t completely thought through.

He doesn’t make much of a scene. No explanation given. Just rises from the couch, too smooth, deliberate. almost practiced.

For a second, no one else reacts. You suppose This is something he does often by the lack of bother from Jimin and Taehyung.

Until Jimin finally glances up, a hint of what you can only assume is disgust in his face. His brows furrowing slightly. “Right now?”

Jungkook doesn’t make eye contact with anyone in the room, attention focused anywhere else. He just shrugs, fingers still curled around his phone, as he makes his way toward the door.

“Yeah.”

No details, no offer the clarify.

He picks up his keys from the counter, spinning them idly in his fingers before turning toward the door. And he’s gone before anyone can say anything else.

The door clicks shit behind him, cutting through the quiet of the apartment like a knife.

You exhale, shifting in your seat once again, almost like you’re trying to shake something off, something strange that feels like it’s lingering in the air.

It’s almost nothing, but it’s not. You continue watching the film, feeling just a bit unsettled.

The only issue being that you don’t know why.

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#bts #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fake texts #jungkook fic #jungkook smau #fanfic #bts smau

204 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 3 months ago

Note

fic title “squats? i thought you said shots?” lol hehehhe

From this ask game. Mmmmmm, gurl, I'm feeling so sassy and naughty, yikes! Warnings for thirsting and teasing Steeb until he snaps lol. MINORS DNI.

Steve Rogers x agent!Reader

Very simply, this was Steve's thick fingers on a tiny phone screen keyboard and autocorrect being a twat.

The text legitimately says shots, no question, and he even said he'd been meaning to ask for a while--because he watched you at training and thought perhaps leg day would help your form overall in training. Perfectly reasonable.

Instead, you meet him at the gym entrance (which leads directly to the parking lot fwiw, seemed reasonable) in a slinky top with thin straps, a mini-skirt, and naught but stick-on cups and boyshorts beneath. Steve is beet red and dumbfounded, walking up in his usual sweats and too-tight, moisture-wicking tee.

"Uhhhhh."

He's so articulate.

After three solid minutes of stuttering through a "not that you don't look nice" speech, you get a straight answer, and if you hadn't pre-partied just a little in your room to take the edge off, you would have left it there.

Not today, Hydra, not today!

Into that gym you go, letting that tight skirt of yours roll up your hips and saying nothing about your panties peeking out, stretching dangerously thin across your ass on the down move of your squat, asking Steve to explain in great detail, again and again, what you could improve just so he has to stare directly there the whole time.

He starts out with his arm crossed, standing close by, totally serious. At one point, he reaches out instinctively to correct your form. That's how he finds out you have no bra strap, and his hands rush to his sides again. Eventually, he seats himself on a bench behind you.

He hasn't said anything in a while; you've just kept up doing sets of ten, taking small breaks to stretch and switch up your foot position.

"How'm I looking back there, Cap?" you joke.

Steve swallows so loudly, he has to clear his throat.

"Better. Yeah, better. That's good."

"I'm thirsty, sir. Can I take a water break?"

He says 'of course,' flustered, and insists you can be done for the day--night, whatever--since you clearly wanted to do something else.

On absolute purpose, you let some water drip from the bottle down your chest. He keeps watching, entranced.

"Well, not really..."

He looks back up to meet your eyes.

"I wanted to do something with you, Steve." It's the first time you've ever called him by name casually. "Whether it's shots, or squats, or...anything else you can think might help me...or you."

His eyes glaze over for a long pause before he suggests evening you out with a bit of upper body work--

--and by 'upper body work' he actually means you holding onto a bar in the shower to do pull-ups while bouncing on his dick. It's, uh, a very hot exercise, to be sure, and a sweaty, steamy, sexy time. Ya know, because Steve and 's' words on the keyboard need practice and variety.

A/N: 😩 I want it.

[Main Masterlist; Fic Title Only Asks; Steve Rogers One-Shots]

#ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff

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especially-obsessed · 3 months ago

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Letting Go

Summary: Everyone else gets to let go, why can't you?

Pairing: Jeremy Gilbert x fem!reader

Warnings: Alcohol use, supportive/fluffy Jer <3

Word count: 1.9K

Masterlist | Jeremy's Playlist

The Mystic Grille is quieter now, the once-loud chatter reduced to a low murmur. The smell of spilled beer and fried food lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of liquor on your skin. You should have left hours ago. Your friends had already gone home, one by one, telling you to text them when you got back.

But you weren’t ready to leave yet.

Not yet.

You weren’t drunk when they left, just pleasantly buzzed. But then you ordered another drink. And another. Because tonight—for once—you weren’t the responsible one. You weren’t the one making sure everyone got home safely, the one holding back someone’s hair as they puked outside, the one keeping it all together.

Tonight, you were free.

Well… sort of.

You swayed slightly in your seat, staring at your knee with deep concentration. Had knees always looked like that? Like, kind of… knobby and awkward? That was a lot of responsibility for a knee.

A snort of amusement came from across the bar. “You good, or do I need to cut you off?”

You looked up—well, attempted to look up—and found Matt Donovan standing behind the bar, arms crossed, giving you the kind of look that screamed ‘I’ve seen this before, and it never ends well.’

You pouted dramatically. “Matty, do you think knees are weird?”

Matt sighed, shaking his head. “Alright. You’re done.”

You huffed but didn’t protest when he slid your glass away, replacing it with a cup of water. He didn’t have to babysit you—he had enough on his plate—but Matt had always been the kind of guy to look out for others, even when it wasn’t his responsibility.

Which, ironically, made you think of someone else.

Without really thinking, you pulled out your phone, your fingers fumbling clumsily over the keyboard. Jeremy’s name was already open in your messages. Your safe person. The one who always had your back.

You: U evr think abt how weird knees are???? Like??? They just bend?? But backward wuld be so cursed lol

Matt was wiping down the counter when your phone buzzed. You squinted at the screen.

Jer: Where are you?”

Before you could respond, Matt leaned over the bar top and caught a glimpse. “Tell me you didn’t just text Jeremy about knees.”

You held up a finger. “Correction. I texted Jeremy about the mysteries of knees.”

Matt muttered something under his breath and quickly plucked the phone from your hand. He shoeved it into his back pocket and grabbed his own phone. “Yeah, okay. I’m calling you a ride.”

You gasped. “Matt Donovan, how dare you betray me?”

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said dryly.

You stuck out your tongue but didn’t argue. Instead, you focused intently on Matt as he moved behind the bar, and how his knees bent every time he moved. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

Matt only rolled his eyes at you before glancing down at his phone again. Still nothing.

He had messaged the group chat with all of your friends—Stefan, Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, Tyler, Jeremy. Someone had to answer. But the minutes had stretched on, and his phone remained frustratingly silent.

By the time Jeremy pushed open the door to the Mystic Grille, the place had mostly cleared out. The low hum of conversation had dwindled to a few lingering patrons, and the faint scent of restaurant grade cleaner and fried food clung to the air. Matt was wiping down tables, his movements slow and methodical, but he straightened the moment he spotted Jeremy.

His expression was unreadable at first—just tired, maybe a little exasperated—but as Jeremy stepped closer, the flicker of relief was obvious.

“She’s been like this for the past hour,” Matt said, jerking his head toward you. “I cut her off, but I wasn’t exactly able to leave and take her home in the middle of my shift.” Matt glanced over at you then.

Jeremy followed his gaze and immediately sighed. There you were, sitting at the bar, lazily tracing patterns on the wood, giggling to yourself.

Matt let out a breath, shaking his head. “I texted everyone. Not a damn response. Guess you’re the only one who gives a crap,” Matt remarked, tossing the rag over his shoulder.

Jeremy pressed his lips together, something unreadable flickering across his face. He gave Matt a grateful nod, and he just shrugged and went back to work bussing empty tables.

Jeremy walked over, leaning against the bar beside you. “Hey there. Need some help?”

You blinked up at him, your expression shifting from confusion to sudden, dramatic seriousness.

“Jeremy. You don’t understand.” You motioned toward your knee. “Knees are just… so weird.”

Matt snorted from as he moved behind the bar. Jeremy just sighed. “Uh-huh. And how many drinks did you have before you made this discovery?”

You frowned in concentration, attempting to count on your fingers. Then you sighed dramatically. “Too many. I think I’m… intoximated.”

Jeremy huffed a quiet laugh, but his amusement quickly faded as he got a better look at you—your flushed cheeks, the daze in your eyes, the way you swayed even while sitting.

You were more than just tipsy.

Jeremy exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, that’s enough, trouble,” he said, reaching for your arm. “Let’s get you home before you start questioning elbows too.”

Matt gave him a knowing look but didn’t intervene as you pulled back stubbornly, shaking your head. “Nooo, I’m fine. I can totally—totally walk home. My legs still work, see? Watch this.”

Matt muttered, “Here we go,” just as you pushed yourself off the barstool.

For a brief second, it seemed like you had it under control. You even managed one whole step—maybe two. But then your knees buckled—stupid, useless knees—and the floor suddenly felt a lot closer than it should have been.

Before you could face-plant in front of the few remaining people in the Mystic Grille, strong hands caught you around the waist, steady and sure. Your fingers instinctively fisted into Jeremy’s jacket, gripping the worn fabric like a lifeline as the world tilted around you.

You blinked up at him, your wide-eyed surprise quickly melting into something else—something warm, something hilarious. A giggle bubbled out of you, then another, until you were full-on laughing against his chest. “Okay, maybe… maybe I can’t walk.”

Jeremy sighed, adjusting his hold on you, but there was the tiniest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, no kidding.”

From behind him, Matt let out an unimpressed snort, shaking his head. “Yeah, she’s your problem now.” He crossed his arms but didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face.

Jeremy glanced down at you, still giggling against him, and exhaled. “Yeah,” he muttered, shifting his grip to keep you steady. “I got her.”

Matt stared for a moment, his face caught somewhere between sympathy and amusement. “Good luck, man.”

The warm night air hit you the second you stepped outside, making the alcohol in your stomach turn. Jeremy kept a hand resting on your back, steering you toward his car, but with every step, he could feel your mood shifting.

Your laughter had faded.

Your steps slowed.

Something weighed on you, something heavy, and Jeremy felt it in the way you suddenly pulled away from his grip.

You turned to face him, your expression raw, your hands balling into fists at your sides. You swayed slightly.

“Why?” The laughter was gone from your voice. It wavered, breaking just slightly. “Why can’t I just have fun for once? Why does it always have to be me taking care of everyone else?”

Your breath came quicker now, uneven, your emotions unraveling too fast for you to catch them. You swiped at your face, as if angry with yourself for feeling this way, but the words kept coming, spilling out like you had no control over them anymore.

“I’m always the one holding everything together, Jeremy. Always.” Your voice cracked, frustration thick in every syllable. “When Elena can’t handle her grief, I sit with her. When Stefan falls off the wagon, I’m the one making sure he doesn’t completely lose himself. When Caroline has some new drama, or needs help with some stupid event, I show up!”

Jeremy’s stomach twisted as he watched you unravel.

You let out a bitter, breathless laugh, shaking your head. “And it’s not that I don’t love them. I do. But—” You inhaled sharply, your hand sweeping out toward the empty space outside the Mystic Grille, where no one was waiting, no one was there. “But where the hell are they now?”

Jeremy had no answer.

Because he had been wondering the same damn thing since Matt’s message to the group chat popped up on his phone, and no one else responded.

Your eyes flickered to him, glassy and desperate, like you weren’t even sure you should be saying this out loud. “Why is it only you?” The words were quiet, almost a whisper. “Why is it only ever you?”

Jeremy swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the weight of your words.

You had spent so long being strong for everyone else that no one thought to be strong for you.

And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

Jeremy exhaled, stepping closer, his voice softer now. “I don’t know why they’re not here.” He was careful, measured, like he knew one wrong move would break you completely. “But I am.”

You blinked up at him, breath hitching.

Jeremy hesitated for only a second before reaching out slowly, his hand open, waiting. “You’ve been taking care of everyone else for so long. Let me take care of you for once, okay?”

You stared at him, unsteady, the last of your walls threatening to crack. And then, finally, you exhaled shakily, placing your hand in his.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Jeremy kept glancing at you as he drove, his grip tight on the wheel.

You were quiet now, your head resting against the window, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.

But every so often, you mumbled something, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to have fun… just once… not be the responsible one…”

Jeremy exhaled, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “You deserve to have fun too, you know?”

You made a soft sound in response; barely coherent. Then, a few moments later, your fingers brushed against his arm.

Jeremy glanced at you, startled by the touch.

“You’re always there for me…” Your voice was drowsy, your words slurred. “Always… safe.”

Jeremy’s breath hitched.

His heart stumbled over itself, caught off guard by the weight of those words. He looked at you quickly, but your eyes were slipping shut, lost somewhere between wakefulness and sleep.

He let out a soft chuckle, trying to push past the warmth spreading in his chest. “That’s what I’m here for, right? To save you from getting lost in your own thoughts… or your knees.”

You giggled weakly, your hand still resting against his arm.

And then, in a barely audible whisper, you sighed, “You’re… my favorite person… I wish I could tell you that more.”

Jeremy’s throat tightened.

He wanted to say something, anything. He wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to say it, that he already knew. But by the time he pulled into your driveway, you were already half-asleep, your head resting against the window, the soft rise and fall of your breath the only sign that you were still alive.

Jeremy took a moment to watch you, his heart tightening at the sight. Without a word, he unbuckled your seatbelt and gently lifted you out of the car. You stirred a little, your eyes fluttering open as he cradled you against his chest. Instinctively, you clung to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as your head nestled into his shoulder, still too tired to do anything but hold on.

He carried you toward the door, your warm weight against him grounding him in a way nothing else ever had. Your soft, unsteady breathing against his skin made his chest flutter, but he didn’t mind. He knew he’d do anything to take care of you.

Anything.

Masterlist | TVD Masterlist

a/n: Loosely based on a night that I may or may not have experienced a few nights ago. Anyways, here's to my Jeremy; my night in shining armor <3

Likes, reblogs, and follows are never expected but greatly appreciated! These let me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing! (:

Taglist: @imanewsoul @s0urw00lf

Let me know if you would like to be added to a taglist <3

#jeremy gilbert #jeremy gilbert x reader #Jeremy Gilbert fanfic #Jeremy Gilbert fluff #especially obsessed #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries x reader #tvd x reader #tvd fluff #tvd imagine #tvd #tvd universe #tvd fandom #tvd fic #damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore fanfic

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normalgirlnextdoor · 8 months ago

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Alpha 141! X Omega reader??

Hii! I don't usually post my writing, but I had this idea and wrote up a draft/demo of and idea i have. Let me know what yall think and if you want to see it continued! Reblog if you like it please! Also I didn't really edit it, sorry lol!

You tapped away on your mechanical keyboard, the clicky sounds saving you from the quiet boredom that came with running your base's front desk. Running it of course was your punishment for.. Well lets just say when tensions get high you struggle to keep your mouth shut. And it just had to be today that you get dished this punishment. The day one-four-one was assigned to come in, you know to check the place out, see if there was a ‘missfit’ to take on their team.

You see, you unfortunately work at a special “military”' base, military used lightly as it's not really used for the government to have soldiers willing to fight, but actually to protect the government from lethal beings that could be useful military weapons. You and everyone else, including your current captain, have very dark reasons for why you’re in here. The only way you specifically could get out of the hellish base was if your true mates, yes mates with an “S”, came for you. Legally the government cannot keep anyone from their true mates, but considering you definitely had four, you had a snowball chance in hell of them coming to you.

Letting out a loud dramatic sigh you looked over your writing. Paperwork was the bane of your existence. Rubbing your eyes you go back to typing the latest mission report; only to be interrupted by the large military doors swinging open with a slam. In came five different, clearly not impressed people. Four out of the five are men, built like true military muscle heads, while the fifth was very fit female. Taking a deep breath you slip into profession mode, choosing to address the women instead of the four intimidating alpha males.

“Hello! Can I please get your names, ids, and the reason why you are here?” Your voice was overly sweet, sweeter than it usually was.

“I’m Kate Laswell with one-four-one. John-” she tossed her head to the side.

“Oh, of course you are,” You dropped the cute assistant act, pulling back into a neutral look. Blowing air through your nose you started to type a quick check in for the special operation group one-four-one. Laswell gaped at you.

“Okay,” You flicked your head up rather fast, causing your dog tags to clink with your military issued scent blocking collar.

“You guys are good,I’m Bite risk by the way,” you inform them that you yourself are on the team they will be montering, before telling them where to go. Laswell smiled at you, tipping her head in thanks as she strutted down the hall. One-four-one on the other hand, took their time analyzing you as they passed by. As the last and largest one, the one with the warm looking skullmask, passed by you rolled your eyes, going back to your mission report.

“Sir, I’m aware that you want to see your daughter and I am deeply empathetic to what you're going through right now. But unless you show me your Id, I won't be able to even let you into the security system for public visit days, which as I said are: Saturdays, Sundays and specific holidays,” your absolutely fed up. Your team including one-four-one, who are currently coming down the hall to collect you, could even tell just by the stressed undertone of your voice.

“I’m not going to show some barracks bunny my id! I want to see my daughter! Now let me in! I served in world war two! I don’t deserve this disturbing treatment from some omega floozy! You have no idea what it means to work in the military! You're just some whore-” A loud crash. Your captain quickly ran into the lobby, quickly ripping you off the disrespectful older man. Thankfully she was quick enough to prevent him from leaving with a deep bite scar. Your eyes glowed red as you tried to throw her off, but she kept her hold on you, even as you dug your elongated claws into what skin you could reach.

“Fang! Get him out of here!” She commanded one of your team mates. As he was being escorted out your captain shoved your face into the crook of her neck, letting out a strong calming scent. You drank it up, forcing your feral omega down. Meanwhile task force one-four-one silently watched. Genuinely surprised how quick things escalated in only the first three hours of their two week observation.

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Price said, his thick British accent quickly catching your omegas' attention, red eyes looking over to the entire team. Interesting indeed you thought.

#poly 141 #141 x reader #price x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #john price #cod mw2 #x reader #alpha x omega #x omega reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick

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banquetwriter · 1 year ago

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hey !! I’d like to request a Johnnie x reader that has to do with you guys getting into some kind of fight and it’s just super bad so you leave and you guys go without talking and eventually Johnnie comes and apologizes to you and you guys talk it out

୨୧ Puffy eyes ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ screaming, arguing, lots of crying, Johnnie being desperate lol, not edited

summary: ʚ Johnnie and you fight and the makeup that happens after • fluff/angst ɞ

Words: 2891

An: Tara is my #1 and NO ONE can change that, the I'm doing my requests out of order bc i had more inspo for this one lol

SUPPORT ME

You hadn't had ANYTHING to eat today. You were helping a friend out by watching her kid so obviously you couldn't leave the kid unattended. After a few exhausting hours, you had to help your different friend go shopping at a formal event they had coming up.

It was safe to say your brain was fried and scrambled. You set your bag down on the counter and fill up a glass of water. You took a second to let yourself sit in your misery before placing the empty cup in the sink and making your way to your shared room with Johnnie.

You slowly creaked open the door, he was sitting on his phone in his editing chair. You didn't even say anything, just sat your bag down and flopped onto the bed. But to your surprise, Johnnie doesn't say a thing, he just continues to type away on his phone.

Realistically it wasn't a big deal, sure it was annoying but texting people made him nervous so he was a slow texter. You rolled over onto your back looking up at the ceiling, then to your boyfriend.

You stared at him for at least a minute before you were fed up. “Johnnie?” you asked in a small voice. He silently looked up at you, not even putting his phone away. “What?” he asks after a beat of silence. You try to speak by opening your mouth but nothing comes out.

You get tears well up in your eyes, how embarrassing, you eventually managed to stutter out your thoughts. “N-nothing i-i just wanted to m-make sure you were ok.”

“Yeah. I'm fine,” he said looking back down at His phone. You wanted to cry, your annoying day wasn't getting any better. “OK, good. Let me know if you aren't,” you said, but your words seemed to fall on deaf ears. He didn't react, just continuing to text.

You inhaled sharply trying to prevent the tears threatening to spill from leaving your eyes. “What's wrong with you?” he asks in a bored tone.

The phrase takes you by surprise. He didn't ask what was wrong or if you were ok he asked what was wrong with you. Like it was some sick joke. “What?” you ask, staring at him, your eyes were already droopy, and could barely hold steady.

“You're just all whiny and bitchy right now,” he said, shrugging. You were taken aback. Never in your time dating Johnnie has he EVER said anything like this to you. “I’m-” you started trying to compose yourself from blowing over.

You're interrupted by the sounds of a digital keyboard clacking away. You look back at him to see he is no longer looking at you or paying any sort of attention to you but is instead texting again. Your sadness and pain turned to anger in a second.

“Who are you texting?” you ask in the most level-headed voice you can muster. “What?” he asked looking up again. “I asked ‘Who are you texting?’” you repeated. He stared at You blankly like it was a joke you were pulling on him.

But there was no joke, you were dead serious. “Just work stuff,” he muttered, continuing to type. Jealousy and suspension ran through your body, curious as to why he was acting so angry. He was also hiding who he was talking to.

Was he cheating?

You cursed yourself as soon as you thought about it. No. Johnnie would never. But would he? “No I get that but who?” you asked, sitting up. He eyed you in a funny manner, “Someone I'm trying to collab with.” he said, for once in this whole conversation not looking down at His phone.

“Cool. But who is it?” you ask again your suspicion growing tenfold. “Just this girl I-” You don't let him finish before you cut him off. “Girl?” you ask in a loud voice. His phone turns off automatically from inactivity. “Yeah. Is there a problem with me having female friends?” he asks, turning his chair towards you.

You squint your eyes at him as if to ask ‘Are you serious?’. “No, I have no issue with you having female friends. I am in what I thought was a very secure relationship. What I have issues with is you treating me like a little bitch and then hiding who you're texting, when it's some girl you're gonna “collab” with.” you say adding air quotes around your words.

The tension was thick, laced with the mallace your words held. “Woah. ‘What you thought was?’” he quotes sitting forward in your chair. “Hey, you listened to me for once! Good job!” you replied in a mocking cheery voice.

“So you're just gonna fucking dump me over what I do for work?” he said standing up. Your world felt like it was spinning. ‘Dump him?’ you hadn't mentioned breaking up with him but… if that's the first thing he thought of maybe he wanted that.

“Dump you?” you ask. “When have I said anything about that? I'm just upset with you,” you said, your tiredness gone. “Yeah upset at me for doing work!” he shouts at you. Johnnie hasn't yelled at you this whole time you've been dating.

You can't hold your tears in anymore. His loud demeanor cuts through your already fragile heart like a razor blade. You don't say anything letting your tears fall. Johnnie's face contours with regret at his words. “Y/n I-” he begins but you cut him off.

“I was never upset at you for doing your work. You treated me like shit and ignored me to text another girl, one you won't even tell me the name of.” your voice was calm but filled with anger. You slowly stood up reaching for your bag.

Johnnie followed suit trying to hold you. You smacked his contact away from you, his arms still outstretched as he slowly took a step back from you. Your eyes had turned into faucets, leaking all your sadness out. “Don't call me. Don't text me. If you think I am going to break up with you over a tiny argument, maybe we shouldn't talk at all.” you spat between your tears.

“Y/n no! I didn't mean-” but the rest of his words don't register as you grab your bag and run out of the room without bothering to close the door. He follows you, saying things your brain doesn't let you pick up. You practically ran downstairs where Jake was walking into the house.

He noticed something was clearly wrong and started to say something that you again couldn't hear. You brushed right past him leaving your house and getting into your car. You didn't know what or where you were going; you just drove.

You found yourself heading towards Tara’s house. You didn't know if she was even home or could have people over. You say in your car resting your forehead against your steering wheel. You reluctantly picked up your phone and dialed Tara’s number.

“Heyy girl,” Tara said. You tried to keep your voice level but failed. “Um, Tara? Are you home?” you asked, your voice breaking. You peeked in her driveway not seeing her flashy pink car. “Omg y/n I'm not no are you ok? What happened?” she asked quickly.

“Me and Johnnie got into a fight and he-” your voice broke with a sob. “I'm shopping right now but give me 15 I can be at my house! Where are you right now? Are you still there?” she asked in a panicked voice. “No, I left, I'm at your house,” you said, your voice creaking.

“Ok hang tight I will be right there,” she said before hanging the phone up. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb not having time to deal with anyone's bullshit right now. You stayed in your car just sobbing your eyes out.

It wasn't like you and Johnnie hadn't had arguments before but they weren't like this at all. He hadn't ever yelled. They usually get resolved quickly. But that was all gone now. You two probably weren't even dating anymore.

The idea just made you cry harder, you could see through bleary eyes that Tara had pulled in. She hastily got out of her car and ran to yours. You undid your seatbelt and opened the door. Tara’s arms were on you in an instant.

You continued to cry as she pulled you out of the car and helped you into her house. All you could do was bawl your eyes out on her couch. Tara ran around her house finding you some tissues then a cup of water then some vegan chocolate (better than nothing right) and eventually, she door-dashed you some Taco Bell.

By this point, your blubbering had cooled down and you were able to recount the argument to your loving friend. “He yelled at you? I don't think I've ever heard his voice get loud enough to register a yell.” Tara mumbles while taking a bite of her food.

You wipe your tears away nodding your head in agreement. “I don't even think we are together anymore,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. It's crazy how life can be so perfect then it comes crashing down out of nowhere.

“I don't think that's right y/n,” Tara says looking at you opening a sauce packet. You just shrug in response, how could this happen to you? You two felt so perfect. It was all broken now huh?

After a moment of silence, Taras's phone goes off. “Oh god, it's a call from Johnnie,” she mutters while picking it up. “Hello?” she asks, standing up and waking to the other side of the room.

You could tell she was trying to not let you hear the conversation. Fortunately or unfortunately you did hear. “Johnnie I don't think we should be really-” she stops for a second, you can't hear what he is saying but you know it's something long as for the next several seconds you hear nothing.

“Johnnie Johnnie calm down please,” Tara said, her voice much calmer than it was when she answered the phone. “I'm not going to tell you where they are-” Tara was cut off again. You can't hear him clearly but you can't tell he is hysterical.

She lets out a deep sigh, “Yes Johnnie they are safe I promise I'm looking at them right now.” she mutters, turning around to look at you. She looks at you for a little before you can hear the hysterical sounds again and she rolls her eyes looking back at the backdoor.

“You sniffle slightly looking down at the table before Tara comes pattering back over to you. “You need to talk to that boy soon,” she comments with an exaggerated look on her face.

You take a deep sigh and check your phone. Since you still had DND on you couldn't see any of your motifs, you unlock the phone to see that Johnnie had called you 48 times in a row. With several voicemails.

You turned on the first one to listen, checking the timestamp that was minutes after you left the house. “Hey, y/n please I'm sorry I didn't mean to make a big deal I was just upset earlier.” the voicemail clicked signaling it was the end. The next one was 30 minutes later.

“Hey, y/n please I'm getting really worried about you calling me back as soon as you can.” your heart burned as you heard his worried voice.

The next few voicemails were minutes apart.

“Y/n please I'm sorry where are you? Are you safe? Call me back, I'm sorry.” his voice was breaking and high-pitched.

“Y/n you have to call me back I'm so worried about you. Please I'm so sorry I promise we can work this out just call me.”

“Y/n, please! I never meant to hurt you. I swear that girl didn't even mean shit I didn't even wanna collab with her please.” he was sobbing now.

“Y/n please I'm gonna keep calling you until you answer.”

You checked and he had called you so much apparently he needed to call Tara to make sure you were ok. You felt your heart pinging after him wanted to just hear his voice again.

Just then your phone goes off with a call from Jake. Taras's eyes shoot up trying to see who it was. “It's just Jake,” you mutter before answering the phone. “Hello?” you ask.

There is silence before Jake answers back surprised, “Hey sorry I didn't think you would answer me um, look I know you're totally pissed at Johnnie which you have every right to be but do you think you could call him back? Uhh, I am not exaggerating when I say he is having a full-blown freakout right now.” Jake spoke the last part quietly.

Johnnie presumably was in the room with him so you took a deep breath. “Yeah, I can call him just tell him it will be a few ok? I didn't ignore his calls on purpose I had Do Not Disturb turned on,” you said looking at Tara while you spoke.

“Ok gotcha no worries just soon please he is freaking out right now,” Jake said again. “Bye Jake,” you muttered, hanging up the call. You took the phone from your ear and scrolled around till you found Johnnie’s contact. You took a deep breath before you called him.

He picked up instantly,“Y/n? Oh my god, you don't know how happy I was when you called. Are you ok? I mean I know you aren't ‘ok’ but are you safe?” he rambled for a second.

“Johnnie?” you asked quietly. There was silence on the other side. “Yes?” he croaked out quietly. “One question at a time, please calm down,” you said sadly. “Are you safe?” you took a deep breath. This was the Johnnie you fell in love with. The one who cared about you.

“Yes I'm safe at Taras,” you Said which did not make Tara happy, as she quickly made a cutting motion at her throat. “Ok. Ok good,” he said quietly. There wasn't any noise for a second. Both of you feel like kicked puppies.

“Can we talk in person? Please? I miss you.” he said, his voice filled with sadness. You would love to but you feared what would happen so close after the argument. “Yeah, we can just not today,” you promise him. He stays quiet over the line, you can feel his heart breaking.

“Yeah of course whenever you feel comfortable, ok?” He was trying and failing to sound very positive. You hung up the phone and spent the next few hours trying everything Tara thought would make you feel better. It was a sweet attempt but there wasn't much that could cheer your mood up.

Eventually, you made a makeshift bed on her couch and fell asleep. In the morning you borrowed Taras's bathroom and got ready. You hugged her goodbye and promised her that if you needed anything else you wouldn't hesitate to call.

Full of nerves you made your way to your own house. You stepped out of the car and unlocked your front door. You walked into the usually lively space that was now empty and sad. You gripped your bag tightly and made your way upstairs.

You opened the door to your room, and the sight you saw nearly shattered your heart into two. Johnnie, still wearing his clothes from yesterday, was clutching one of your sweatshirts. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Dark circles sat under his eyes.

He looked up at you as you entered the room. He didn't move, he just stayed on the bed. “Sweetheart-” you began dropping your bag and going to his side. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, nearly suffocating you with the force of holding you.

“I'm so sorry, I was upset because my computer crashed while I was editing and so I lost the footage and- it doesn't matter I'm sorry,” he mumbled into your shirt. Wet hot tears slowly slid down his face and made their way to your clothes.

“Johnnie, did you sleep last night?” you whispered towards him. He just shook his head no. “I forgive you. I promise. It was a stupid fight. I promise you I didn't and don't want to break up ok?” you said finally playing with his hair slightly.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he cried to you pulling away and meeting your eyes. “I don't know but it has to be something pretty good.” you joked. He laughed, wiping a few tears from his eyes. You assisted him with wiping them away by placing small kisses under his eyes.

You silently pulled him into the bathroom, getting him situated on the counter. You stood in between his legs cleaning off his day-old make-up. He sat silently as you tenderly cared for him. Eventually, you got him to drink a glass of water and helped him change into comfy clothes.

You lay down with him, being a big spoon of course. He made a million promises to you before dozing off. Your argument wasn't finished but it could take the back seat.

#johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie x you #johnnie #jake and johnnie #johnnie x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert #j

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runicmagitek · 19 days ago

Text

Noises Off: Chapter 1 (Mettaton/Tenna - Deltarune)

(( I swear I blacked out and this fic appeared. Anyhow, still buzzing about THEM and writing away, but enjoy the first chapter (yes chapters lolsob it's a problem) of this eventually spicy fic~ ))

It had been twenty hours, ten minutes, and fifty-one seconds since the Internet died, and Mettaton teetered on the edge of sanity. Could a ghost even die from excruciating ennui? At the rate he was going—or not going, having spent at least sixteen of those hours sprawled face-first into the couch, groaning nonstop—death would’ve been a mercy. Instead, he wallowed in the doldrums; the thought of wailing and thrashing in an attempt to feel something again was far too tedious. All because he lost his outlet for... uh, everything.

A place to express himself, truly and freely. A place to socialize with like-minded individuals, because a family could absolutely be you and your three online friends keyboard smashing over anything and everything. A place to share joy and sadness and outrage, only to be met with support instead of scrutiny (okay, the latter still happened, but the block button was the best invention since sliced ghost bread). A place, above all else, to escape to. Now it vanished, as if someone yanked the power cord to his laptop. How rude.

Mettaton groaned for another two minutes, sinking deeper into the couch. How could he live like this? Ugh, forget that—how could he survive in a world without the Internet? The group chat blowing up over a recent typo? Ghosted. The forty open browser tabs of the cutest second-hand corporeal dresses and boots on sale? Gone forever. The ongoing updates over the latest Mew Mew 2 zine discourse? Vanished into the abyss. That one meme he needed to show Blooky, because reasons, and finally located it after who knew how many search queries? lol. lmao even.

This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. The worst ever, of all time. Someone needed to be arrested and tried in court for this atrocity against all monsterkind, because this profound, soul-crushing boredom was absolutely criminal. And if it lasted another second, then Mettaton couldn’t be held responsible for his—

A clatter shot through the house. He rolled over, blinking. Did someone knock? The silence thickened inside. Maybe I imagined it. Or they went away—

The door rattled against the fist of whoever pummeled it. Great. Just great. Without Blooky to hide behind, he had to do his second least favorite thing: answering the door.

[read more on AO3]

#mettatenna #mettaton #tenna deltarune #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #deltarune chapter 4 spoilers #fanfiction #my writing #fanfic: noises off

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mysticmellowlove · 1 year ago

Note

pls needy!yan x ignoring!reader

note; feeling like an academic weapon in one class while being an academic victim in another is a harsh reality :')

warnings; fluff, so unserious lol, reading this back there is like a subtle yandereness whoops, it was cute though so i hope you still like it

There was one thing in this world that would never change. Work will always continue to be a part of your relaxing afternoons. As your fingers clacked on the keyboard, a riveting sound that had you considering if you'd buy one of those specifically clacky boards instead, the monotonous sound drowned out everything else.

A slow and exaggerated blink later and you realised that maybe two things would never change in this world. Your boyfriend, packaged in a small parcel of sugary sweet words and devious hands, was whining at you from the doorway to the office. If you were to look up from your computer and make eye contact there would be no escaping the resulting cuddle session.

Sometimes you wondered how he even survived without you before... though you'd never actually ask him that as he would most definitely say that he was basically dead. Your boyfriend really was just a funny little guy.

"Baby.... you've been working all day." A sigh came from the corner of the room. You schooled your expression as you took a sneaky peek from the corner of your eye, he was no longer at the door. You flicked between pages on your computer and tried to get back to your work.

"Have you forgotten about me?" A sulky tone seemed to drift closer, he was on the move again. A small laugh bubbled up, was he seriously doing this? You two had date night only yesterday, a whole night dedicated to taking him out and swamping him with affection.

In a matter of moments, you jumped as he launched himself onto your lap, his arms winding around your neck. He seemed to sink into you, his body instantly relaxing as you pursed your lips, a soft sigh leaving your mouth.

Still, you continued to work as he fiddled with the hair at your nape, twisting it around his fingers and slowly tugging at it. The urge to simply stop what you were doing and take a nap was high, but there were things you had to get done.

It began to get substantially harder when he began to pepper kisses on your neck, using his intimate knowledge of your sweet spots to try and drag your attention away from your computer. Willingly or not you felt your body relax as he lightly sucked on your skin, drawing it into his mouth.

"I'm busy." You muttered as you swapped your screen to the graph you were working on in excel, the numbers looking even more annoying than they did ten minutes ago. His smile seemed to spread as he pressed his face into your shoulder.

"But wouldn't it be better to spend time with me instead? You can finish this later." He whispered, his voice low and seductive as he peeled himself from your body. You dodged his gaze as he looked at you, an exaggerated pout on his lips.

"Let me take care of it, let me take care of you." He drawled as he leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose, then your forehead and then the side of your mouth. A huff of air left you as you leaned to the side to see the screen better.

"Babe." A certain tinge of harshness leeched into his voice for only a moment before he was kissing your eyelids, forcing them to close. An exasperated sigh left you as you finally let your hands clasped around his waist.

"Go sit on the couch, let me save this first and then we'll spend time together, yeah?" Despite the annoyed look on your face you couldn't help but melt under the cheesy grin he gave you.

"Of course! Love you baby!" He cooed as he jumped off of you and skipped over to the office door. You rolled your eyes as you hit the save button on your computer and went to stand up.

You spoilt him too much...

#sub yandere #gn reader #yandere male #ask #drabble #fluff #love for anon

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lucrativesoul · 2 years ago

Text

Espionage

summary: working in an underground crime syndicate, your job gets risky, but, the more risk, the more reward. you jumped the gun on your thievery through an art museum, and come across one certain guard who is adamant on stopping you in your path.

pairing: guard!leon kennedy x female reader

word count: 11.5k

warnings: smut, fingering, choking, slight degradation, dom leon

a/n: yall know i had to do one with tactical gear leon i mean come onnnn look at him!!! (patrick voice) i went a little wild with this one LOL i really thought it was gonna be my shortest work yet and here we are. the plot of this was inspired by Death Prefers Blondes by Caleb Roehrig! if you guys liked the idea of our mc's job here, i suggest you check out that book, its a really great young adult read! i had so much fun with this one, i really hope i didn't keep you guys waiting. i hope you enjoy, thank you endlessly for the support, and I will see you soon :)

Taking a deep sigh, you reclined yourself back as far as you could in the stiff chair, which wasn’t much. The light above you was flickering, to your annoyance, but you kept quiet about it, focusing instead on the rapid typing on the keyboard from the man in front of you. The room was cold, and you pulled your sweatshirt tighter around you. You knew to come prepared this time.

You hoped you would get out of here before the traffic rush. You hated having to come all the way out here, but, after all, it was your job.

To explain how you came into this would take too long, as you tell everyone, so simply put: Some connections in your life led to other connections, and those connections allowed you to quit your two part time jobs and become a full time criminal. Literally.

You met this man, Carlos, at the gym where you liked to spar with some of the trainers when they weren’t in sessions. Simulating a fight was not something you had expected to find a lot of entertainment in, but when you got up there in front of someone and were forced to defend yourself with blocks and punches and kicks, it introduced a whole new adrenaline into your world. Keeping up with your physical shape had definitely aided in your ability to be nimble, and your history of (attempted) gym consistency helped build muscle.

Carlos had pulled you aside after a sparring session with another trainer, impressed by your moves, and had told you he wants to see you put it to the real test. He offered you a spot in the gym he frequented (which was, to your horror at first, the sketchiest building you had ever seen in your life from the outside), paired you with a trainer who wasn’t afraid to throw real punches, and before you knew it, you could fight an array of builds and heights.

From there, you kept talking to people who knew people who knew Carlos, and he weaseled you into his line of work where he trusted you to go on the scene of whatever was the target, and sold all of your loot. He was your fence, you were his robber. Quite simply.

A real threat of danger hung over your head on every job, and you knew this well enough. There was always the chance of getting caught, considering every location had guards 24/7. There was always a chance you could get hurt; fall from a high location, the failure of equipment, get shot for fucks sake, but you loved the adrenaline it gave you. You felt on top of the world, and in the back of your mind, you knew this would surely be considered an addiction, but you didn’t care. Every new job upped the ante, and you needed more.

The second deep breath you took expanded your lungs, the stretch feeling good after not moving for several minutes now. You rolled your head side to side, hearing the crack, and turned your attention back to Carlos, who finally started talking again.

“I have buyers in Europe lined up for these.” He looked down at the desk, an array of shiny stones and metals bent in intricate shapes and chains laid out in front of him. Courtesy of yours truly. “A few are interested in the same piece, but they can argue with themselves, I’m only going to sell it to them, I’m not the mediator.” He sighed and pushed back in his rolling chair, pulling open a file cabinet and a manila folder.

“Where in Europe? Can we hand deliver?” You couldn’t help but grin slightly, and Carlos didn’t have to look up from his papers to know you were.

He shrugged. “If you want to risk receiving a chest cavity the size of a gold ball, knock yourself out.” He knew you were joking, and you knew the rules well enough. Knowing who your buyers were, and going within any sort of vicinity of them while knowing their identity was strictly off limits. He turned his head towards his computer again. “Venice. Nice.” He turned towards you. “Budapest. The usual.”

You nodded. You were expecting some sort of answer along the lines of that, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to you. Oh, how it would be nice to be in Europe, though.

“Here’s the deal.” Carlos put the folder of papers down in front of you, and you lazily scanned it, knowing that most of it was going to look like gibberish anyways. Carlos was the man in between here, you simply stole things. You didn’t deal with the numbers and the logistics. “The man who is in the battle for our largest emerald is willing to step aside and let our Venetian buyer take the cake, because he reached out with another job that he and only he wants to be in the running for.”

You scoffed. “Dude must be loaded then. A solo job?”

Carlos cocked an eyebrow. “He gave me parameters for the job, and I almost turned him down without even running it by you, to be honest.”

You sat up straight. “The fuck, Carlos? Give it to me, I can take it.”

He sighed and slouched back in his chair. You were honestly surprised that Carlos was not the one in your spot. He was insanely built and could easily take down four armed guards at once, but you never found out why he chose to be behind the scenes. At least you knew he trusted you enough not to put you in anything that would be instant death.

“There’s apparently an heirloom to this guy’s lineage sitting in a chamber room of the gallery downtown. He’s been trying to find a means to reach it and claim it back for years, but, according to him, the museum won’t budge on letting him anywhere near a buying price.”

You let his words sink in. “What’s so bad about that?”

Carlos sighed again. “It’s an art gallery.” He stared at you, waiting for you to get the point. “They have armed guards posted day in and day out. Alarms at every possible entrance and cameras watching every square inch of the place. It’s just not feasible.”

You shook your head. “Carlos, come on. I know you have access to the technical means that we need to do our surveillance. We can watch their route. We can track who does what nights and who might be the easiest to take down. I did that at the villa two weeks ago.”

“Yes, and you nearly lost your life. I was shooting myself in the foot for putting you out there.”

You shook your head again. Part of you was thankful that Carlos had the decency to regret his decision of accepting that job, and feeling remorse once you reported back that one of the bodyguards had you in a near death chokehold before you managed to, by luck, weasel free. Even you were still haunted by that. But you would never let it slow you down, and would never tell Carlos, as he would surely put you in safer locations. Which meant less fun.

“I’m just saying, now that it’s been done, I can do it again. And be careful about it this time. I want to do this Carlos, I believe I can.”

Carlos was silent for a moment, thinking over your words. He sighed.

“I want our people staking out on the perimeter the whole time. I don’t want to hear objections. There will be a team this time, this is not just somebody’s home. This is government and city property, if you don’t die, you and I are as good as dead in the prison system.”

You quirked a small smile. “Come on Carlos.” He lazily held eye contact. “You think I’d rat you out like that?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was fighting the urge to smile as well. “Be back here tomorrow at 12. We’ll start our prep.”

–

You, Carlos, and two other men were huddled around a plethora of screens deep in the trenches of Carlos’ office. One of the monitors had split screen CCTV surveillance, six cameras watching the main galleries and two hallways, one was a datamine of the encrypted content regarding the people employed to stand guard at the museum, and the others were floor plans of each floor and wing of the gallery.

The size of the place didn’t scare you, in fact, it only brought more excitement to your job. As soon as Carlos brought up the blueprints and started mapping escape routes and how to avoid camera sightings, you memorized it instantly. This would be a breeze.

“Here’s who we need to look out for.” He drew up a site that had profiles of each of the seven guards that do night duty. Their employee photos looked like mugshots. “These three guys guard the east wing, these two rotate between west wing and foyer since that is the smallest wing and closer to the entrance, and these two are usually staked out by the rear gallery.”

“You seem to already have this down, Carlos.” You mumbled.

He snickered from in front of you. “I’ve been watching already.”

You sighed through your nose. “Going to turn down this job my ass.”

“We’re expecting these two to be in the west wing the night of the heist. I’ve been watching, and they tend to rotate, but there’s a pattern. I’m sure it will be them.” You nodded, listening closely to his words. Carlos might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you knew he didn’t mess around with ensuring the best possible route. “One stands in the wing while the other stands in the foyer. They rotate at the same time, so there is a small window when no one is watching the far end of the gallery.”

“How am I getting in there? Hanging out overnight?” It was a partial joke, but you never knew with this team.

Carlos shook his head, and diverted everyone’s attention to an isolated map, similar to the layout of the floor plan. “This is the duct system.” You stifled a laugh. You should have expected this. “Big enough for a person like you. The duct room is locked whenever no one is accessing them, and the only people that do are the janitorial team, and Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday are the only times they are sweeping the building.”

“Literally, sweeping.”

Carlos sighed heavily at your remark. “The system that is connected to the electronic lock is also connected to what controls the cameras and the lights. I can get you in there, but only in a very small window of time. It needs to be during the day.”

“The day.” You echoed. “So, I’ll be camped out in there for a while, then?”

Carlos nodded. You knew what you were about to get yourself into. It came with the job description, and before the job actually launched into action, you knew that familiar feeling of anxiety blossoming in your chest. You had been in the gym consistently, trying to find someone to mock a chokehold with you in the case that it happened all over again. If it did, you decided Carlos didn't need to find out.

You knew you were physically ready. The odds of going against a huge man didn't look great from the outside, but you were flexible, and fast, and if you could bounce around their sights, you could steer clear of any sort of altercations.

“Yes, you’ll be in there for a while. It’s the only way.” You nodded again. You knew there was no such thing as comfort in this line of work. If you get too comfortable, you might as well get ready to be comfortable in a jail cell, or in the afterlife. “We move in Thursday night. Just to be sure that the cleaning happens Wednesday and we won't get any surprises. You’ll enter at 4 PM. I’ll be watching all morning to decide what you should wear to make the least waves possible and so you can disappear when they close at 6. Regular day employees stay until 7:30, then the guards move in, but we can’t make our moves until well after sunset.” Carlos was looking mostly at you, as the other teammates he rounded up were just going to stake out the perimeter. “You know the prep. Make sure you last while you wait.”

–

You spent the next week in the office watching everyone’s moves. The guards followed a monotonous routine in which areas they patrolled. Odd, considering they might want to watch for corners where people could stay hidden.

They all stuck to their schedules, no employee stayed later than an hour and a half after closing, guards immediately did a sweep of the whole building for the lame thieves who attempted to hide in bathrooms, before they stuck to their positions, and that’s where they stayed for the night, until 5 AM. You were positive you had this down now, there was no way you could be wrong.

There was, of course, but you preferred to pretend otherwise.

The guards rotated as predicted, and with every step they took every passing day you grew more confident in this job. That person who was commissioning this should be well willing to tip generously considering the amount of prep taking place.

You swallowed the lump of anxious nerves, pushing yourself into your work mindset as you sat outside the museum, the breeze cooling down your heated skin. Carlos had been keeping watch of the patrons since opening, and he concluded the appropriate outfit for you to don would be a tan hoodie, light wash jeans, and you didn’t have many options in the way for shoes, a simple pair of white sneakers having to do the trick. You knew they would be watching at the door, a metal detector as well as bag checks were mandatory, so you couldn’t risk a bag, but you had all you needed strapped underneath your clothes to your second skin layer– a skintight bodysuit, equipped with maximum breathability and flexibility– and all of your weapons holstered as close as they could get.

With nothing else except your phone (which was off) and wallet (with a fake ID), you walked up the steps, blending in with the bustle, but knowing well enough to not look too suspicious. You knew the rest of your team was around the perimeter, out of your view, and you were going to hear from Carlos for the first time when it was necessary for you to hide. He was never on location, he was seated safely in his office, every screen lit up with hacked CCTV footage and an in-ear device to communicate directly to you.

You took yet another deep breath in. You got this. You had to.

You knew you had time to kill while you waited to hear from Carlos. It couldn’t be right away, that would look too unnatural if you made a beeline past too many priceless works of art. So, not begrudgingly, you strolled through the galleries, admiring the timeless art, feeling inspired, excited, the sun streaming in through the glass ceilings of some of the halls.

It was mostly quiet, the murmur of people surrounding you, discussing what they were looking at, the occasional kid running by. As much of an admirer you were, you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your arms and hands, dying to get started. But, as Carlos taught you well, patience was a virtue, and if you rushed things, it could get bad, and fast.

After a lap, which lasted close to an hour, you sat on a bench in the west wing. You knew this was close to where you needed to be, and it would be easier to stay close in case the window of opportunity arose when you weren’t expecting it, which was typical.

You toyed around with a pamphlet you had picked up near the entrance, still keeping an eye out for any employee, or any guard, which would be out of place at this time. It was nearing 5:30 now, and they were going to be closing in 30 minutes. Your heart rate quickened at that thought, knowing they were going to be sending employees to do loops and tell people their time was being cut short. You slowly straightened your posture, trying not to look too alert, trying to calm down–

“--in, come in. Connected to base, CCTV footage overrode, stations manned.” You heard Carlos’ crackly voice through your in-ear, and you slumped backward, relieved.

“Copy.” You kept your voice low and mouth movements to a minimum. “I assume you know where I’m at.”

“Bench in the back left of the west wing. The duct room is also being watched. It has been looking clear for the last ten minutes, give me another five to make sure, then I will give you instructions.”

You gave a slight nod, knowing he could see you. You kept up your previous charades, reading the same script for the fifth time on the pamphlet, people watching, and employee watching. The next five minutes took way too long.

“Get up slowly and walk along the wall to the left. Someone is coming down the hallway telling people there is 20 minutes to closing. Let him pass you, acknowledge what he said, and let him get about 20 feet ahead.” You shifted in your seat, pushing yourself up. Taking another look at the paintings hung on the walls, you realized as you approached– this was the one you were meant to take. You were so tempted to stand here and look at it, but you didn’t want to draw a suspicious coincidence in the mind of the employee who would see you standing in front of it. One glance later, and you moved on.

“Excuse me,” A soft voice spoke from behind you. You turned around, and acted surprised. A short man with dark hair had a friendly smile on. “The gallery will be closing in 20 minutes, just a heads up.” You nodded a thank you, and promised to move on swiftly.

“Ten seconds, then when you walk through the aisle in between the columns, there’s a hallway to the left. You’ll have a really small window to duck into the door on the left side and wait while I override the door code.”

“Code?!” You whisper-shouted, taking care to keep your voice low. “This should have been something you told me earlier.”

“Don’t worry, I have access to it and can let you in. It will only take one more second, but you have to be quick with this door, you know that.” You sighed, knowing he was right. Your steps were quiet, but firm, and you caught sight of the small hallway he was talking about. “There’s no one behind you, but we can’t guarantee that’s permanent.” Oh, yes, you knew that was the truth. You wanted to turn around, but fought against it, not wanting to catch anyone’s eye.

Step, breath, step… “Go, now, hurry.” You careened quickly to the left into the hallway, knowing anyone would notice you if they walked by. “Two seconds…” Carlos configured the software to the door’s electronic lock as you approached and stood there, heart hammering. You pulled your sleeve over your hand. You heard the click. “You’re in, move.” You pushed down on the door handle with your sleeved hand and creeped into the room, wasting no time in shutting the door. You waited for the command before you moved. “You made it blindly. No one noticed you.” You sighed gently. “To your left, there's a switch. Flip the one in the middle. It’s the nightlight.”

You did as told, relaxing slightly now that you could see. The room looked exactly as expected. It was more of a closet, really. There was an electric panel on the wall opposite the door, a rack of cleaning supplies to the right, and in the left corner across from you, a large duct sock extending from a fixture that was taller than you. You had no idea where it led to, as it disappeared up into the ceiling, but you had a feeling that’s where you were destined to spend the next handful of hours.

You took your time inspecting the room, knowing there was going to be nothing quick about this next step. Behind the large fixture that filtered the air and sent it through the duct, there was a small passageway blocked by a vent grate. Carlos had told you vis in-ear to unscrew the large grate and tuck yourself in there. At least it was right next to the cooling system, and you could shed some layers. It would get hot, and quickly, in there.

Time ticked by slower than ever as you were stretched out in the vent, now loose from your jeans and sweatshirt. Your bodysuit was keeping you cool, and you managed your breathing whenever you remembered so you would be able to keep your core temperature as stable as possible. You ran over the plan once, twice, a thousand times, and maybe even drifted off once or twice, by the time you heard Carlos’ voice again, sounding angelic after all this time.

“Hey, you awake in there?” His soft, crackled voice sounded through your brain.

“As ever. What’s the time?” You whispered back, shocked at how far the smallest vocal sound carried through the metal tube.

“Close to 11PM. We have to get moving soon.” You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you.

“Can I push this thing open? Can someone hear me from here?”

“Give me two seconds, I need to make sure I can disable central control of the cameras so no one else watching security can see. We don’t need any unnecessary backup here.” You let Carlos do his thing from base, and tried your best to stretch your limbs getting ready to move. “Okay, this will take a few minutes, but in thirty seconds, the rotation from west wing to foyer is going to start. Countdown, then crawl out as carefully as possible.”

Breathing steadily, countdown rapidly ticking in your head, you started at thirty, gripping the grate as much as you could once you hit one, and pushed outwards. You had managed to click the metal back in place behind you once you crawled in, but it wasn’t the most subtle sound. Now, it counted even more that it was timed right.

With a solid shove and a louder than you expected click (and a wince), and shimmied your way out of the vent, placing the metal onto the ground with the slowness of a turtle. You had no idea if anyone was going to open the door to this right now, so you just had to trust that the silence from Carlos meant that nothing was about to go wrong.

You stood up, sighing deeply when you could finally stretch out before getting to move for the first time in nearly 6 hours. The spandex of your bodysuit contoured with your body, and you felt unrestrained as you stretched out, ready to be as light on your feet as possible. There was a small holster on your thigh, where a retractable baton was strapped in tight, and one around your waist, holding onto three tiny knives– stainless steel– the closest thing that would get you through the detectors without being flagged. Fingers crossed they wouldn't need to be used.

“The rotation just finished, so in about ten more minutes, our window will open for you to come out and stay hidden. Remember where all the sculptures are layed out?”

“Yeah, I do.” You continued to stretch through Carlos’ words. “I’m ducking out of here at your command, softly shutting the door. I come quietly to the opening of the hallway and duck out to the right, hide behind a column and stay low.” You recited again, and heard Carlos give a hum of approval.

“Just hang tight for now, I’ll let you know when you need to start moving. Security override is almost done. Remember, they’re gonna try and reboot the system immediately, which will take another minimum five minutes, max ten. Be light on your feet, move fast.”

You steadied your breathing once again, flexing everything in your body to make sure you were adequately stretched out and ready for action. You had never felt more so.

“Exit the room in twenty seconds. Start counting.”

You pounced on your feet at the sound of Carlos’ voice after a few minutes, gloves on your hands (which had also been hidden in a pocket of the bodysuit), and gripped the handle, counting just to the pace you had been trained to.

“Move.”

You and Carlos reached the countdown at the same time, and you pressed the metal handle down and inched the door open, swiftly, but not enough to cause the hinges to make noise. You slithered out, and once you had the door shut again without a sound, you dropped down onto your knees, walking in a crouch to the entrance of the gallery.

You were hidden immediately by a column. You peeked out, knowing there wouldn’t be a guard in the aisle but checking anyway, and waddled over to the next column, feeling your heart rate increase with every step. Peeking around, you spotted the guard, who was walking slowly towards the middle of the west wing. He had his hands by his sides, gun holstered on his hip. Not much more than an average cop’s bulletproof vest on his body.

You waited for him to reach the center and do a lazy turn, back towards you, to run to the next column. Time was ticking, but as long as he stayed right where he was, you would be able to secure this artwork and disappear.

You reached the next column, and the next, all the while the guard was still turned, and you ducked back whenever he did a mandatory sweep of the area behind him. You could see the painting you needed from your current position. If Carlos had it under control, he could stifle the alarm system at the very second you used one of the knives to cut the cords and rip it from his ceiling holsters. You could tell on your first walk by this afternoon that it was nothing more than a heavy fishing wire, and it could be done soundlessly.

One more column, and you could see the guard from your hunched over position. You were pretty well hidden behind the column itself and a sculpture sat in front, and slightly to the left of it. You heard him sniffle, and shift his weight again before turning around, and crouch-running to the column that sat just to the right of the painting. This was it.

You had your head parked solidly right behind the column, watching the guard. He was still facing you, looking up at the ceiling, down all the obvious passageways, and then he turned. It was now or never.

You creeped forward, hand over the knife on your holster, ready to slice through the cord on the wall. You were waiting for Carlos’ sign that the alarms had been disabled. Nothing, but you had no time to wait. You had to try it.

You pulled the knife from the holster and pushed the blade out, gloved hand gripping the frame, and in two swift movements, the wires giving a slight shing with the cut, it was loose, no alarms, and you dropped back to the ground and ran.

Taking the same caution on the way back as you did on the way over, you stopped at columns to watch the guards, and by the tell-tale sign of him stalking forward once, you knew the rotation was about to happen.

You grew closer and closer back to the duct room; through the vents as your only way out.

Taking the opportunity of no guard in the hall, you went as fast as you could in a crouch, seeing the opening for the hallway mere feet away. It was home free. Another job done.

Still in the clear, your heart hammering, you dove forward into the hallway, not wasting anymore time. You reached the hallway, turned the corner, and found yourself staring straight into the barrel of a gun.

Stopping short, nearly screaming out, you could only stare as you tried to identify the person behind it. You couldn’t move, your limbs were frozen in place. You could not hear Carlos, you didn’t even know if he saw you cut the line. He had the alarms disabled, clearly, but where was he? And who was this man?

You couldn’t see the bottom half of his face. Behind the large gun he had pointed at you, he had a black neck gaiter covering from his nose down. His eyes were hard, eyebrows deeply furrowed, they looked blue in the dim light. His blonde hair was pushed off his forehead, stiff with gel. He was covered neck to feet in gear, a large, bulletproof vest and cargo pants, not another inch of skin showing. He was crouching to your height. Clearly, he knew you would be coming back here. What the fuck was going on?

He tilted his head in a mocking gesture at you, making fun of your momentary stupidity. You wanted to fight, but you knew better. If you drew attention now, you would be vastly overpowered very quickly.

“Looking for an easy escape?” His voice was deep and husky, and for a moment you thought this was someone on your team. But no, they were told strictly to stay outside under all circumstances. This was not someone trying to help you. He was trying to capture you.

“Who are you?” You whispered, praying that Carlos was listening, feeling more panicked that you couldn’t hear him.

He shook his head. He was not in the mood to be courteous. “Go to the door behind me to my left. If you make noise, I’ll kill you. If you fight, I’ll kill you. Go,”

Your breath hitched, you could fight him with a knife, but with the barrel aimed straight for your brain, it was no use trying right now. You needed a plan, and quick. But for now, you had to obey.

Your legs felt like jelly as you stayed low and walked over to the door, the stranger backing up and keeping his gun trained on you the whole time. When you approached it, you stood up, looking back at him. He nudged his gun forward in a go in gesture, and with a deep breath, you quietly pushed the handle downwards and walked in.

This was not the duct room, which was the door on the other side of the hallway. Why had you not seen this door, why did Carlos also not seem to know about this door? When you walked in, you for real almost choked this time, it was the goddamn control room. The very one that Carlos had overridden to let you get into the museum after hours in the first place. Oh, you were fucked.

“You thought you had it all planned, huh? I’ve been sitting here this whole goddamn time watching you. I saw you walk in, I saw you sit down, I saw you go into the hallway, I was waiting for you.” Your stomach ran cold, not knowing what to do now. Carlos was MIA. He surely must be frantic. Was he going to send the team in?

You were staring straight ahead at the vast array of monitors, way more than Carlos had. Every inch of the museum was being watched. You saw the screen with the duct room hallway. It was in the rightmost corner. The control room door was hidden from this angle. This room had been scrubbed from blueprints. You would have seen it, you know it.

The chair in front of you was pushed out, most likely from this man standing up to meet you when you returned. A coat, issued with the museum’s logo, was draped over the chair. You could see a nametag pinned to the front. Leon S. Kennedy. That name did not sound familiar.

You squeaked out when the barrel of the gun hit you square in between the shoulder blades. “Your buddies can’t save you now, you know. Next time they try to do this, they’ll have to do more than just some book research.”

You took a steady breath, urging yourself to sound more collected than you felt. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Leon Kennedy.”

He scoffed. “Don’t act so fucking smart because you know how to read.” He used his gun once more to push your shoulder so you could spin around and face him. You could only stare as he maintained his composure. His eyes were not softening up. “Did you think you could be in and out with this one? Just like all the others?” You tried to fight it, but you felt your face scrunch in confusion. How does he know about the others? He made another sound, like a laugh, and you could almost see the outline of his cocky smile underneath his mask. “Don’t act like you stayed off of anyone’s radar. Your little fence isn’t exactly a low profile criminal in the underground market.” Your stomach sank. He knew about Carlos. He knew about the whole ring, he had been watching you!

“This was… Is this even a real job?” You spat out, feeling more and more of a struggle to breathe.

Finally, Leon put down his gun. He knew he had you under his fingers. He crossed one more step to get in your face, looking down at you. “Like I said… Your buddies need to be more careful with what they decide to take on.” He muttered at you.

Something clicked inside of you. It was a life or death situation, and there were no more good outcomes. With the swiftness of air, you shot your right hand up, connecting your fist with the side of Leon’s jaw. It caught him off guard, but it did no more than knock him back a couple of steps. That was a hard jaw.

You used those two seconds to your advantage as you sprung forward, using the chair behind you as leverage as you kicked into his chest with both feet, sending him flying backwards, knocking the gun loose from his grip. He almost fully lost his balance, and you rocketed forward, finishing him off and wanting to send him straight to the floor.

It seems, though, you underestimated how well trained this man might be. He never hit the floor, and from the second you sent him reeling backwards, he was already connecting the distance between you two again, and he ducked when you sent another leg flying at him. He hooked your other leg in his grip, turning you over and forcing you to fall to the floor on your back, effectively rendering your lungs useless.

You gasped for air, finding the strength to fight back, and before he could unlatch himself from the leg he had a grip on, you tightened your other around his throat, tucking his neck right under your knee, and you squeezed hard.

Finding air again, and still keeping Leon in a chokehold, you pushed yourself up, and rolled the both of you over, so you were now essentially sitting on top of him, pushing his body into the ground as you kept him senseless. The dominance didn’t last long, as he pushed himself up, slamming you, once again, into the ground, loosening your leg, and escaping.

Your attempts at punches were meek, and he gripped both of your wrists in his hands and pinned them down; it was useless. It was over. During the altercation, most likely while he was being choked out, his gaiter slipped down, now wrapped around his neck. The rest of his features match the top half, and god dammit why did you have to make enemies with a man who looks like he should be on display in this very place?

“You should stop trying to fight me.” He grumbled from over you. You knew he had the upper hand now, definitely physically, but you weren’t going to stop.

“And just accept defeat? Accept whatever is going to happen next?” Despite knowing it would be useless, you attempted to break free from Leon’s grip anyway. It resulted in a tighter grasp around your wrists, and you winced. “What do you want from me? You set this up just to catch me. But you’re on the inside, too. You can’t nail us without incriminating yourself.”

If it was even possible, his face hardened further. He lowered his body to bring his face inches from yours, and you found yourself not turning away from his gaze.

“Maybe that’s just not what I’m after.”

The sentence brought your mind to a complete blank. What else could he be after? If he was employed by the museum you were currently trying to steal a painting from and sell it for thousands, shouldn’t he want to take you down to protect the art? Wouldn’t he want to put you and your team in jail for the crimes you all have committed?

“So, what? You just wanted to take me down? Try and make me fail? To prove something to yourself?” You were desperate at this point to hear something from Carlos, and the more time went by, you were sure Leon must have done something to the connection. Since he already knows… “Why can’t I hear my team?” You barked at him.

He quirked a cocky grin once again. “I don’t need you calling for unnecessary help. I’ve got it taken care of.” With one harsh movement, he adjusted both of your wrists so they were being held by his left hand. He then used his right to rip the in-ear out, making you cry out when the tape was torn from behind your ear. He kept tugging the cord until the tiny transmitter, which was clipped to the inside of your bodysuit, just below your shoulder, was out in the open, and tossed it aside. He was putting increasing pressure on your wrists, and you couldn't help but writhe.

“Let me go, I don’t get why you’re doing this.” You started a struggle again, but he shut it down swiftly. “Why me, Leon, why us? Surely we can’t be the only underground heist group within the vicinity, surely someone else must have tried to break in here.”

Leon stared at you for a moment from his place above you. His expression gave nothing away about his thoughts, and it was aggravating you endlessly. He thought he was all that. You were pissed off, because you also felt like that was true. He did manage to fumble your route and tackle you and cut you off from comms. Asshole.

He lifted himself off of you slowly, and you felt the pressure around your wrists disappear. He was straddling you now, his large legs encapsulating you on both sides, his arms looked massive from this angle. His vest was littered with utility pouches, and you weren't sure you wanted to find out what was in them. The gaiter was slack around his neck, and you felt so tiny, submissive, and rapidly heating up under his half lidded gaze. You can’t believe you went over his employee profile. You would have remembered a face like his.

“You’re right. You are not alone in this ring of underground syndicates, frankly, not even the first to have been here. I took on a few of them. I’m not actively working to destroy the network that you work out of, I’m just doing my job. Why should I let thieves get away with it just because they’re good at what they do?” You stared at him as he spoke. You couldn't believe how much information he truly had, and how much more he would surely not reveal to you. “I didn’t care about the other bunch, they were all dirty criminals doing it for the money with no real talent and no morals, so, fuck them, I’ll bust them when they step into my territory.” He lowered himself again, and now he was holding himself above you, arms on either side of your head. He was staring straight down into your eyes. “But then you appeared on my radar. I was surprised to see a woman in this line of business. That’s not common. I had to watch you closely. Maybe my own ignorance made me think that you would be out of play quicker than you even started, but when I discovered you had taken down two men larger than me and turned around a chokehold that surely would have killed you, I couldn't help but be impressed.”

You couldn't stop the scoff that escaped your lips. “Fuck you. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I worked my way up to where I am now.” Your sentence was cut short when he placed a rough hand on your chin, holding it in his palm.

“Shut up.” You ground your jaw, holding back snarky comments that would put you in a worse position. His demeaning command twisted your stomach in an unfamiliar way. “When I noticed your skill, as you needed to throw in there before I finished, I saw a challenge. I couldn’t just let it go.”

No words came out of your mouth right away, still trying to process his. You shook your head in confusion. “Challenge?”

“I like a woman that can put up a fight.” Leon said nothing more, daring you to stay something in retaliation. You kept your mouth shut, unsure of what kind of response you should even give. You squinted your eyes at him, but he didn't falter.

“What kind of job even is this?” His grin grew. The anger and frustration mixed with something foreign in your stomach. You curled your toes instinctively at this feeling. “Setting me up for failure just to wrestle me so you can get a workout?”

He shook his head slightly, that glint in his eyes not fading. “It’s not all about me, you know. You’re my challenge right now, yes, but I see something in you. I want you on my side.”

“Your side? Are there sides to be had here?”

“Sure there is,” His voice dropped to a low whisper now. You realized in that moment how quiet the room was. After the altercation the two of you had, you concluded it must be soundproof. There would have been a guard here by now. “You can fight. You're a spy. You’re practically invisible. That would be so useful to me. With me. I can give you that, you won’t have to worry about the inevitable end of this.”

You finally brought your hands down by your sides, and he didn’t move to stop you. “Here? You want to offer me the occasional chance of action from the museum?”

“You said it yourself.” His gaze hardened once more, and you suddenly remembered how harsh he was towards you five minutes ago. “I’m on the inside. I’m just as dirty as you guys are.” You stared, fighting the urge to gape your mouth. Someone on the inside, working right under everyone’s nose? “With me, I can make sure you’ll never face the threat of being shut down. Thrown in jail for years, for life. Carlos can’t do that.” You felt a twist at the mention of Carlos’ name, hoping he was alright.

You hated yourself for even letting that thought flick across your mind momentarily. You and Carlos were a team, he taught you everything, yes, but he had no other ‘ins’ in the world to protect you from the law. You were on your own in the field. He just directed you.

Leon had the connections. Leon worked with them. There was a chance that he really could keep you safe.

“What’s…” You grit your teeth, and swallowed hard, hating this position. “What’s in it for me? I’d be losing what I worked for the last few years. Just to be under your belt now.”

He shook his head. “You’re not losing. You’re gaining.” He came dangerously close to your face, yet again, you didn't move away. “Trust me.”

With nothing left to say to him, your body only had one way to react. You quickly hooked your left arm around Leon's neck, holding him in close, and using all the weight you could muster to flip positions with him. You could see in his face he was almost expecting this from you, yet he let it happen, and didn’t fight it.

He let out a grunt as his back hit the ground, knowing his vest took most of the impact. You were now successfully above him, in between his spread legs, his arms splayed out on the sides. The arm that had been used as leverage around his neck was now holding you up, the other was poised threateningly at his collarbone, as if you were going to choke him at any second.

But now, over him, though you felt triumph, you were at a loss for words again, still so muddled about the situation. Leon let the arrogant smile take over his features.

“We’d make a great pair, don’t you think?”

A million emotions surged through your veins, making it even harder to focus, to find the right thing to say or do. The way he was looking up at you, those eyes, that face, you wanted to collapse and give it to what he was saying, but you would be damned if you gave in to any sort of manipulation from him. The job was already fucked. There was no money. It was a setup just to get you into his lair… for a lack of better word. He seemed to know the ins and outs of this building, yet, he was working underground for the same reasons, presumably, as you were.

Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. There’s no job. You wouldn’t leave Carlos behind, but couldn’t you pretend?

Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt. “What’s the negotiation?” You mumbled. You tried your best to keep the intimidating look in your eye, but you were afraid Leon never even saw it in the first place.

He breathed out a small laugh. It infuriated you, but sent a chill down your spine. “Can’t we worry about the price later?”

You sighed, and pushed yourself off of him using his body to boost you. He grunted. On your knees now, you said, “You did all of this to get me to work with you and you won’t even tell me what your prices are?”

He followed your lead, and pushed himself off the floor with ease. He was now sitting up, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve got a different asking price right now.” His voice became low, and you stiffened. It wasn’t every day on the field that you were met with a master tempter. Leon knew what he was doing now, and it all started to make sense to you. Regardless of if he really wanted you on his team or not, he kept an eye on you for weeks, months potentially, he brought you in here for one reason, and maybe one reason only.

“What makes you so sure I’ll accept?” You whispered, not able to find the courage anymore to speak properly.

“I think I just know. Am I wrong?” He stared deep into your eyes, yet another challenge. The challenges never seemed to end with him.

And, despite everything, you knew he wasn’t. You could feel it inside of you, he was right. You were about to accept his not-so-professional asking price, and you wanted to hate yourself for even giving in, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t feel anything except eagerness.

You breathed in shakily, frozen in your spot, wanting him to do something first, but he was just letting you fall apart slowly under his gaze, most likely enjoying watching your reaction to a simple stare. You ground your jaw together, resorting to only shaking your head. “Cocky bastard.”

He laughed out loud once. “You got that right.”

It seemed he had it now, not giving you time to start anything that you couldn’t move to do. With a solid palm, he pushed backwards onto your chest, sending you into the floor again. You caught yourself with your forearms and could only stare up at him as he towered over you on his knees, looking more intimidating than he did with a gun pointed at your face.

Leon brought one of his hands down to raid your holders strapped around your waist, pulling the knives free and flipping one open. Your breath caught for a second when he brought it to your neck, but then released even more unsteadily when he gripped your collar in the other hand and tore the blade through the spandex fabric of your bodysuit.

You gasped when the air hit your skin, shielded by the temperature regulating fabric, feeling more exposed than you ever had on a mission before. Of course, you figured, you decided a long time ago that the most comfortable way to don the bodysuit was with as little resistance as possible, so as soon as Leon tore the fabric apart from the middle, yourbare chest was on display for him. You felt heat run through your body, from embarrassment and the arousal that you couldn’t stop.

If it was even possible, his eyes grew darker with emotion previously undetected, and his grip on the bodysuit fragments that he was holding onto tightened endlessly, still tugging them off your body as far as they could go.

He let go, your sleeves still intact, nipples hardening, before continuing to tear it apart lower, until you felt the crotch seams rip right under you, and as shocked by his actions as you were, you were doing nothing to stop it. You tried to tell yourself you wanted to stop him, but you knew yourself better than that by now. He would have been on the ground before he could have even held the knife to your throat.

If he was a mind reader, it wouldn’t have shocked you to find that out anymore. “Just gonna lay there and let me do this to you? Maybe I overestimated your skill.”

It was one thing to be flayed out by someone you didn’t know, another to be held at gunpoint during a mission, but an entirely different field to be insulted by the person who performed all said acts.

“You don’t know anything about my skill. I guess saying you’ve been watching me was a lie.” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, not even caring about your physical state anymore. Using your left arm, you sat further up, pushing Leon backwards with your right, and delivered him right onto his ass. “You think I can’t take charge of a situation?”

He looked up at you, not ready to physically retaliate. “I think you can, only when the person is letting you do so.”

You grabbed a hold of the gaiter still slung around his neck, and suddenly you were inches away from him. “I’m not letting you make me think that you’re allowing me to do anything. If watching me wasn’t a lie, you’d know I’m a lot more capable than what I’ve just let you do.”

He tilted his head sideways, clearly liking the new lack of distance between the two of you. “Then prove it.”

You decided to make a bold move. Repositioning your legs so you were now on top of him, you dropped yourself to sit right in his lap, feeling exactly what you were expecting. He groaned, finally not expecting something from you, and with a victorious smile, you fell lower, grinding into his erection with all your body weight. His hands instinctively went to claw at your thighs, the grip so tight it almost stopped you from moving, and his breathing became ragged.

“You give this treatment to every criminal that breaks into here?”

Leon laughed through the breaths. “I never get to them first to do this.” As you continued to gyrate on his lap, his eyes fell shut and his head rolled back, thumping on the wall behind him. His hands snaked up your legs, fingers toying the edges of the ripped fabric of his doing, and he pulled it further, trying to unsheath you as much as he could.

“Then allow me to make sure the rest of your criminals are forgettable.” You snaked your arms around his torso, letting him pull you loose from the sleeves of your bodysuit. Now free, you kept your grip firmly on his biceps, your own body weakening at the realization of how strong they felt.

As badly as you wanted to free them, as badly as you wanted to see him underneath his armor, you wanted to see it when he took you. You needed to look up at his gear and see his hardened face, the strong bodyguard who made you submit.

He continued with his deep groans the more you ground down on his hard cock, and you could feel it yourself through his pants. Leon’s efforts made it so you had barely anything protecting you, and all that stood in the way were his thick pants. You wanted to free him from his constraints, but you wanted to be a tease about it.

“I hope you had a plan for this, because I’m not obeying someone who wanted to kill me.” You had yourself steady by gripping his knees with your hands, leaning back, his eyes never peeled away from your breasts, out in the open.

He took a hand and placed it over your hip, large and warm, and it sent a wave of heat straight to your core, sure you were wet through your panties now.

“So now you want me to take charge, after going on about your own strengths, huh…” He squeezed his hand over your hip, and it made you squirm.

You basically hopped up and slammed yourself down on his lap, just wanting to make him suffer. “You’ll do what I say, and we’ll see who's listening to orders.” Your motion had made him whine as predicted, and you carefully studied his face as it was scrunched up, mostly in pleasure, probably some in pain.

“Then what?” He half whispered out at you. “Tell me what to do, then.” His hands made their way up to your chest, squeezing delicately, but enough to arch your back into his touch. His other was seated on your thigh, the pressure of his fingertips increasing by the second.

You leaned in close to him, inches away, enough to taste him if you so pleased, but you waited. “Why don’t you treat me like the criminal I am?”

A shudder visibly flowed through his body at your words, the back of his head hit the wall again. The hand on your thigh was now on your throat, not tightening just yet, but with enough sturdiness to keep you in your place. Your whole body was on the move now as Leon shifted his weight, and once again, you found yourself with your back on the floor, staring up at him towering over you. Though you had already been aware of it, your nakedness became prominent in this moment, realizing Leon’s neck and face were all you could see of his skin.

“Don’t think I’ll be gentle then,” He barked out at you, having shaken off the pleasure from you grinding down on him.

You smirked, watching him finally take his gloves off, having nothing to say, but only (oddly) excited about the new course of action. He stopped bothering with trying to get the rest of your clothes off, having opened up enough room for him to work in. You thought he was most definitely either going to push your panties aside for access or cut them off, and as turned on as you knew you would be if he did the latter, you still had to leave this place after this.

“Take my belt off.” He was rigid after flinging his gloves aside, giving you orders to obey. Keeping your back square on the ground, raising only your arms, your fingers worked swiftly to undo the belt buckle, pulling the leather through the metal and setting it free. You looked up into his eyes, which were boring holes into you, and when he made no other movement, you continued to his button and zipper.

When your hand made contact with the fabric you saw the jump his cock made at the friction, even barely there. He let out a soft, shaky breath at you working it open, never losing his composure. The rigid tent right in front of your face was long and thick, and you had to get your hands on it faster than yours could work themselves.

Finally undone, you pushed the opening aside and pulled down the elastic band of his underwear, his facial expression never changing, up until you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, now out in the open, and he groaned. He wrapped one of his own hands around your wrist, a plea not to move it, but you ignored it, and brought yourself to a sitting position so his head was lined up with the tip of your tongue.

“You want to suck it too, like a whore?” Leon’s other hand found solace in the back of your head, fingers tangling up your hair to get a steady grip. The pull made you wince, but you silenced the feeling by running your flat tongue along the underside of his dick, swiping along the head and letting the precum sit in your mouth.

A deep sigh was the result of your actions, and everything he did only egged you on. You felt him adding force to your head to move, but again, moved at your own pace, letting your tongue trace the indents and veins, letting your hand massage the base while your other was on the floor, holding you upright.

The anticipation alone of this moment could have filled your mouth with saliva, and the throbbing cock in front of you only added to help it. You opened your wet mouth and seated your lips around the tip, feeling that push on the back of your head again. Your tongue swirled endlessly, dragging up and down the slit, pushing more of the precum to the back of your throat, and finally, when you decided you had had enough, you slid his length as far back as you could go, a heavy breath coming from above you when you bottomed out.

His grip on your hair became shaky, and his breathing never righted again the more you took him into your mouth, bringing him closer to orgasm. The friction lightened up with your saliva around the base, your hand becoming covered in it, the sickening sucking noises sending sparks straight down to your pussy, which was begging to be touched, but you had to push Leon to the edge first.

You could feel his legs starting to buckle, but you pushed on, knowing he would stop you before he could cum in your mouth. As much as you wanted to bring him to that, you wanted to be pleasured by him first.

With one more deepthroat, stifling a gag and feeling his hand lift from your hair, he pulled himself out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting his head to your lips.

He took a deep breath in, looking down at you, almost spent but so much more to give.

With no warning, his hand was back on your throat, pushing you backwards into the floor once more. This time, the pressure was enough to constrict your breathing slightly, and you wrapped a hand around his thick forearm.

“You weren’t getting off the hook that easily,” Even with the breathiness he was speaking through, his face still showed all the authoritative attitude that he had in the first five minutes of your encounter. At this angle, the shadows on his face made him even scarier, but you felt nothing except turned on by him. Strands of gelled hair fell forward onto his forehead, a glisten of sweat decorated his skin.

“Maybe this was your plan the whole time,” He continued, the hand on your throat not allowing you to speak, but giving you enough air to be satisfied. Your breath hitched when you felt him pull your panties to the side, and deliver a rough sensation to your sensitive clit. “You knew the treatment you’d get by crossing me.”

One finger, then two, and surely your slick was in a pool on the floor by now. His appendages had no resistance as they slid in and out of you, hitting your soft walls, arching your hips to get more and more, but he had you at bay, and he knew it.

“You like this, huh?” Leon brought himself closer to your face, lips just a hair away from yours, but he wouldn’t kiss you. “You like being treated like a slut?” You took another restricted breath in when he returned to your clit, massaging it in circles, making your pussy ache even more. “Answer me.”

A choked out sob came out of you before, “Yes, I do…” and you felt your face heating up at the force of making you degrade yourself.

“Yeah, I can tell, you’re so wet I should’ve just fucked you the moment I caught you.” He was growling at you now, and it did nothing but send you into pure bliss at his treatment. “Maybe you’ll learn another lesson or two, one they could never teach you.”

Between the stimulation on your clit and the hand on your throat, a tear slipped out of your eye, but you were anything but dissatisfied. He raised himself, removed his hand (much to your displeasure), and readjusted himself, cock lined up square with your heat.

“Open your mouth.” You did as you were told, and he spit directly into your open mouth, and at the distraction of that, he slid into you.

Your jaw hung slack as he made his way in, you could feel the way his cock was stretching your walls wide, your pussy was so wet it made it easier than you were expecting it to be. Your eyes rolled back, not being able to help the way your eyelids fluttered closed, eyebrows furrowing, fingernails surely cutting Leon’s skin through his sleeves where you gripped him hard.

The stretch was immaculate, it burned and it felt like you were on fire, but none of it made you want to tell him to stop. Skin to skin contact was made on your clit when he was all the way in, you felt so full you could barely breathe, and your clit was sending rocket fire signals to your brain, it made you writhe with the sensations.

You gasped, the drag out feeling just as good as the shove in, and you cried out through the constriction around your throat, “Leon… fuck,”

Leon grunted at your appraisal, you felt the fingers over your neck twitch, knowing he was holding himself back from using all the strength he had in his one hand. You tried your hardest to pry your eyes open, you needed to see him.

“You’re such a slut, letting yourself get fucked to get out of trouble,” He spit out at you in between hard thrusts and heavy breathing. You practically felt the tip of his dick hit your stomach every time he thrust in, and from the sounds alone, you knew it had you soaked. You already knew he was a big man, but watching him in his bulletproof gear had you even weaker than you were before, this big heavy guard taking advantage of you, using you, and you loved it.

Your legs wrapped around his torso, hoisting your hips up to feel more, get him deeper, if it was even possible.

You could barely even breathe, every move that Leon made inside of you made your head spin, every noise he made turned you to jelly, every thrust had you whining so hard you were sure you were going to lose your voice.

The pressure on your throat lifted, and the sharp intake of cold air down your windpipes made you dizzy. Opening your eyes, Leon was now back to his position on his knees, still fully sheathed inside of you, and with a slick motion, and the wettest sounds you had ever heard from yourself, he slid out, leaving you empty.

You didn’t even have time to process the movement before Leon had his hand on your arms and was turning you over, bare chest to the cold floor, and you unintentionally shuddered. Using your arms to the best of your ability to hold yourself up, you felt them shake violently, and knew they would give out any time soon.

Looking up, you saw Leon reach forward and pull his discarded jacket down from the back of the chair, sliding it under your head, and pressing you back down by the nape of your neck. You couldn’t help but moan.

Strong hands settled on your hips, and you had to bite the material under you to muffle the scream as Leon pushed himself back into you, every nerve on fire as he hit the deepest spots you didn’t know existed. This time, he was relentless, like he promised.

You could barely hear him through your own screaming and whining.

“Take it like a whore, I know you can…” A slap to your ass, more tears from your eyes. “Fuck, so good, you’ll learn now…” Hands in your hair, pulling your head up. “I’m gonna fill you up, like a fucking slut,”

Barely processing anymore, your head a mess and eyes full of tears, you only registered the small change when you felt his arm around your waist, fingers teasing circles into your clit while still pounding into your pussy, still getting wetter by the second. The new feeling had your legs spreading wider for him, further weakening you, your thighs shaking with a strong timber you know no man had ever given you before.

“L-Leon…” It didn’t even sound like words anymore at this point, but Leon got the idea. He pressed harder into the soft nub, making you bite back into his jacket and moan loudly.

“Come on, I know you can cum for me,” Two more thrusts had him in, and you felt the shaft of his cock pulsing erratically inside of you as he released his seed in you, not waiting for you to say he could or not, but knowing he was going to anyway.

The feeling of being filled to the brink was what send you over the edge, his fingers still making work and his dick milking itself dry inside of your tight walls had you clenching around it, ragged breaths taking your body hostage as white flashed before your eyelids, and Leon knew he had made you finish, especially in the way your body crumpled underneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat dry, you slowly came back to reality, and your vision cleared. You felt hands on your waist, slowly rolling you over to lay on your back.

Leon was positioned over you, edge in his eyes long gone, face shiny and slick from sweating, all his hair nearly limp over his face. He looked like a completely different person.

“Are you alright?” Still not knowing if you can speak, you nodded, letting your mouth re-salivate. He pinched your chin delicately between his forefinger and thumb, moving your head to the side to expose your neck. “If I bruised you, I didn’t mean to.”

You shook your head. “It will give me something to cover my disappearance with.” You had no idea how long it had been, but with no contact to Carlos back at base, you wouldn’t be surprised if your entire team flanked the building at this very second to rescue you. Now how to get out with an entirely ripped bodysuit…

“Consider my offer.” Leon mumbled, clear enough to hear, but low enough to hear his exertion. “I was serious.”

You blinked slowly at him, not seeing his expression change at his offer. “If I accept, I’m not a criminal you’ll have to put in place anymore.”

At this, he smiled, and dipped his head down to kiss you again, possibly one of the only times he had that night.

“Honey,” He pulled away. “You’ll always be a criminal.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfiction #fanfiction #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy smut

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crazzzycomet · 19 days ago

Text

Dried Roses

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: Joel finds out about your big secret, and amidst the fallout, you find some things out about yourself.

Tags: 18+, MDNI, au no outbreak, age gap, one night stand, smut, sassy!joel, mentions of death and grief, loss of parents, porn + plot, joel is clearly pining for you lol, angst, lots n lots of tension, flashbacks of drunk sex, he loves pushing it, teasing, praise kink, oral sex, denial of feelings, admitting feelings?, soft! joel

this is chapter 5 of dried roses - there are currently 6 chapters uploaded on ao3 <3

chapter 1 link

chapter 2 link

chapter 3 link

chapter 4 link

a/n: the tags here are included for all chapters in this series. at this point in the story, i recommend maybe going back and reading past chapters for lots of context leading up to this point, bc i fear none of this will make sense otherwise lol - but feel free to read however you like:) we got a huge lore drop at the beginning of this chpt and lots of soft joel, so lock in!!💫

The dull vibration of your phone prompts an immediate eye roll as you throw yourself back on the mattress. Buzz after buzz after buzz after text after text.

You groan, melting into the down comforter as you pull up your messages.

“Is that Tucker?” Romy asks.

“Yes.”

“What’s he saying now?” She huddles closer, nestling in tight with her head on your shoulder.

“He’s mad that I’m not spending winter break with his family this year.” The blue light of your phone illuminates the grimace on your face while your fingers tap furiously at the screen.

“Why?”

“'Cause I said I would.”

“Why’d you say that?"

“I don’t know. Thought that’s what you’re supposed to do after being with someone for a couple years - visit their family for holidays, I guess."

You finish off your perfectly crafted response - wrapped in neat bows of profanity and hurried spelling-errors - and hand it over to Romy, your personal assistant when it comes to proofreading your responses to whatever boy has tried his hand at fighting with you over text.

“Well, why didn’t you go?” She taps at the keyboard - altering your mistakes and replacing your choice words with something a little more couth before she nods and hands your phone back over.

“We just got back together, like, three weeks ago. Plus, he decided to tell me last minute that his freak family spends all of Christmas Eve caroling around different neighborhoods - and personally, I’d rather die.” Your eyes dance along her revisions before you deem it fine enough press send. "So, instead of dying, I bailed."

“Caroling?” a voice echoes, filling the room with a familiar, sweet rasp. “Who does he think he is, fuckin’ Norman Rockwell? Who in the hell still goes caroling?”

“Mom—” you toss your phone, sinking your head further down into the sea of bedding “—that is literally what I said to him - like, verbatim.”

Your mom laughs her distinctive, squeaky laugh.

She had the kind of laugh that was infectious. The kind that would make you laugh harder than the joke itself. You’d decided it’s the sound you miss most while you’re away at school - which may or may not have aided your decision in ditching Tucker and his weirdass family.

“Okay, girls,” your mom exhales sharply. “What d’you think of this one?”

You and Romy prop yourselves up on your elbows, eyes settling on your mom standing at the foot of the bed. Her hair holds loose curls, and her wrists are crowded with bangles. An emerald green dress hugs her figure, its hem spilling just around her ankles.

“Ooooo,” Romy sings. “I like this one!”

“I love it,” you add. “Like, really, really love it.”

And you do love it. She looks great. Fucking fantastic, even.

“Tell me I’m pretty,” she teases through batted lashes, throwing and mess of curls behind her shoulder.

“Mom, you always ruin it,” Romy says, choking on a giggle.

“C’mon, tell me.” She poses like a model on the cover of Vogue.

“You’re pretty,” you and Romy chirp simultaneously after a quick side-eye toward each other.

“Oh, stop it now.” She waves you both off, her bangles clanking together on her wrists. “So it’s better than the blue dress? That one made me look old, I think.”

“You’re only thirty-nine,” you snicker.

Romy nods. “And you’re, like, a really good thirty-nine.”

“Okay, I take it back. Keep going. What else?” She grins, hitting another pose.

“I should’ve gone to Washington,” you say to Romy through gritted teeth.

“Honey!” a deep voice booms from downstairs. “Get your ass down here! Got somethin’ for ya!”

“Duty calls, girls,” your mom beams, hurriedly spritzing perfume onto her neck and wrists, slipping on a pair of silver heels before she vanishes in a flash of green satin.

You grab your phone and shove it into the pocket of your sweats before you and Romy lazily crawl out of your parents’ bed, slowly following after your mom. Bear and Lulu push past you, their tiny footsteps thumping like little rabbits down the wooden staircase.

“Move, sissy!”

“Daddy’s home!”

You walk past crowded walls of framed photos— fond and familiar, old and new. Preserved memories taken through your mom’s lens, capturing all the brilliant bits of life she’d deemed worthy of freezing in time.

Your Uncle Frank, focused and standing with you at his easel - orange paint splattered on your round little cheek and flecked in your braids as you hold a brush to a canvas taller than you. Romy, showing off a fish she’d caught all by herself - your dad behind her, smiling big with pride over the three inch trout. Baby Lulu, all new and squishy in your arms - Romy and Bear crowded around you, taking her tiny features.

“Look at you!” your dad’s drawl carries up to the rafters. “Reckon I’m gonna have to keep a close eye tonight - fuckers in the humanities department don’t know how to keep their goddamn hands to themselves.”

The soft twinkle of the Christmas tree creeps through the living room, casting shadows with its soft amber light. Presents are stacked neatly underneath, with stray, dead needles littering their plaid paper and glittery ribbons.

The sound of your mom's heels clacking on the linoleum and scent of gingerbread hangs thick in the air as you near the kitchen.

You and Ro trail Bear and Lulu through the threshold, immediately greeted by your mom’s warm smile, her attention fixed on the lush bouquet of red roses she holds with both hands.

“Daddy!” Lulu races toward your father, arms outstretched.

“Hey, Lu Bug!” He scoops her up, nuzzling his nose into hers. “How’s my little doll?”

She giggles. “Good! Me and Mama and Sissy made cookies.”

“Yeah? You sneak some batter while no one was lookin’?”

She scrunches her button nose, grinning mischievously with a slight nod.

“Attagirl,” he whispers. “And how’s my Teddy Bear, huh?” He looks down at Bear, who’s wrapped around his leg like a koala. "Tell me what you learned today, bud."

“Praying mantises can see in 3D,” Bear says through a lisp.

“Tell him what else, baby,” your mom chimes in, stirring the contents of the flower food packet into an opaque green vase of water using a rose's stem.

“They’re - um, so,” he stumbles - his little brain unable to keep up with the excitement of it all, “they’re the only insect that can see that way.”

Romy mirrors a raised brow at you, disgusted at the thought.

“I got the coolest damn kid,” your dad says, mussing Bear’s hair with a pat before he lets him scamper off. He gives Lu a squeeze and a smooch on her chubby cheek, setting her free to go chase after Bear.

“What about us?” Romy crosses her arms.

“Sorry, kid.” He wraps her up in a bear hug. “You’re number three on the list of favorites.”

“Three? Who’s number one?” she asks, voice all garbled with her cheek smushed against his shoulder.

“Can’t say, RoRo. That’d be bad parentin’.”

Romy wriggles free from his arms, making her way to go sit on the counter next to your mom, who's meticulously arranging stems, humming softly to the crimson blooms.

“It’s Lulu,” you say.

“No it ain’t.” He pulls you in for hug tight enough to draw air from your lungs.

“Yes it is,” your mom and sister assert with a similar hoarseness, head cocked in the same direction.

He kisses your temple before letting you go to fill his coffee-stained mug with more coffee to gum up the porcelain.

“Which is unfair,” Romy adds, swinging her legs, “‘cause she’s three and cute and squishy. How can I compete with that?”

Your dad tsks, blowing on the steam from his coffee before he takes a sip.

“When’re you gonna let me wash that grimy-ass mug?” Your face twists in repulsion.

You prop yourself against the counter next to the wire wrack lined with cooling gingerbread cookies, waiting impatiently to be brought to life with icing eyes and mouths.

“There’s gotta be a brain-eating amoeba in there by now."

“Like I’ve said a thousand times - a clean mug fucks with the flavor.” He takes an obnoxiously loud sip, just to drive his point home. “Tell you what, kiddo, the day I die, you can bury me with this mug. That way you ain’t gotta look at it anymore.”

You scoff in response.

He leans next to you. Nudges you with his elbow.

“How’s Fucker doin’?”

"Tucker," you correct, unamused.

“Don’t worry about him, Dad. He’s out caroling,” Romy sneers from across the kitchen.

“Caroling? He think he’s fuckin’ Bing Crosby?”

“I said Norman Rockwell,” your mom snorts, surveying the kitchen for a spot perfect enough for her new, prized bouquet.

“His family makes him go,” you say in Tucker’s defense.

Your dad chuckles. “So, besides that, then—“

“He’s mad she’s not there for break,” Romy pipes up again.

“Ro!”

“Uh-oh,” he says. “Spill.”

“Told him I’d go up with him to Washington this year for winter break, but I backed out last minute.”

“You? In Spokane?” He looks you up and down - at the baggy sweatshirt and sweats you’re drowning in. “You’d freeze your ass off, girl.”

“He asked if I could come for New Year’s instead.”

“You tell him to where to shove it?”

“Yes. Told him I didn’t wanna miss Ro’s birthday.”

You catch a smile pull at the corners of Romy’s mouth from where she's sitting.

“Well. Why don’t you invite his whiny ass over for RoRo’s New Year’s Eve Fourteenth Birthday Extravaganza?”

“Stop calling it that,” Romy whines, throwing her head back.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” He whacks you on the shoulder. “Miss messin’ with the kid, anyways.”

“Dad,” you laugh, shoving him back with your elbow. “He already thinks you don’t like him.”

“I liked the kid,” he rasps, “till I found out about the caroling.”

Your brows lower at the sound of Romy’s cackle. “This is why I don’t tell you guys anything!”

“Thank you for the flowers, honey,” your mom interrupts, pressing a kiss to your dad’s cheek and snatching the mug of coffee from his hands. “Now, go get ready, or we’ll be late for the banquet.”

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in surrender.

“Why’d they decide to do it on Christmas Eve, anyway? Do these people not have lives?” you ask, half-joking.

“They got lives, smartass." He points at you and Romy, then out toward the ruckus Bear and Lulu are stirring up in the living room. “You’re lookin’ at it.”

“Go get ready,” your mom repeats sternly, hands on her hips and everything.

“You’re gettin’ me in trouble,” he huffs at you, pushing off the counter. “There better not be any lil’ munchkins diggin’ through presents when I get out there!”

Subsequent squeals from Bear and Lulu reverberate off the walls.

“Wear that cream sweater! And shave!” your mom yells over the noise.

A vibration in your pocket pulls your attention.

“Honey, I need to go over some things with you before we leave.”

“‘Kay,” you mumble, pulling your phone out to read your latest messages.

Tucker: I’m sorry for getting upset, bug. I just miss you

You want to respond with something snide — something like, ‘Shouldn’t you be out singing fucking jingle bells?’ — but you decide against it.

Y’know, ’tis the season. Yuletide joy. Some shit like that.

You: My dad invited you to Romy’s birthday on New Year’s Eve. You should come.

“Sweetie.” A french-tip manicure snaps in front of your nose. “You’re not listening.”

“Sorry.” You lock your phone and set it on the counter. “You have my undivided attention.”

“Alright.” She clasps her hands together, silver bracelets jingling. “Since the last time you were here, Lu’s been real adamant about wetting the bed. Her pull-ups are in the bathroom - third drawer on the left.”

“Third drawer on the left,” you repeat with a nod.

“Oh, and Baby Bear thinks he’s old enough to sleep without his froggy night light - but if you don’t sneak in and turn it on after he falls asleep, he will wake up crying and refuse to go back to sleep.”

“Okay—"

“And don’t even get me started on RoRo..."

“Hey,” Romy says, features all pinched.

“Don’t let her stay up all night with you like last time. She’s still going around, quoting Jersey Shore just to piss me off.”

Your eyes dart to Romy, who’s smiling just as mischievously as you.

“Not. Funny.” She thumps you on the forehead.

“Ow.”

“Listen to me, Bear and Lulu will look at you with their beady little eyes and swear to you that they’re allowed to have ‘this and that’ before bed, but they’re filthy liars.” Her heels click on the kitchen tile as she begins to pace. “They can have one gingerbread cookie after you guys frost them. One.”

“Alright, one cookie—“

“And when it’s time to brush teeth—“

“Mom,” you interrupt, “I got it. We’ll be fine, okay? It’s one night. Not even. Dad’s event thingy and you’ll be back.”

“You know these things go all night, sweetie. Heaven help me. You know how dad gets going when he’s around other authors and professors. The man does not shut the hell up.”

'Cause he's so quiet and reverent on a regular basis?

“They’ll be fine, Mom. Promise.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Worried about you, not them,” she chuckles.

“S’get goin’, hon’!” Your dad yells from the other room.

Your siblings say their goodbyes, filing back into the kitchen one by one while Romy starts on the icing for the cookies.

Your mom wraps you in tight, planting a kiss on your temple before she releases you, her perfume still lingering on your hoodie. “Thanks for watching the kids tonight, sweetie. They miss you while you’re away at school. I miss you while you’re away.”

“I miss you too, Mama. Everything’ll be fine, okay? They’re in loving, capable hands.” You hold up your palms for emphasis.

She shakes her head with a knowing smile. “You’re in for it.”

“Love ya, sugar plum,” your dad says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “We’ll see ya soon, huh?” He shoos your mom out the door.

“Love you, Dad.”

He looks over his shoulder while your mom heads for the car.

“It’s you, by the way,” he whispers.

“What’s me?”

“My favorite kid.” He winks, promptly shutting the door behind him.

Hours pass. Gingerbread men are brought to life, drowned in milk, and gobbled up. Kids are put to bed with nightlights and pull-ups. Books with tattered spines and torn pages are read over and over.

You’re lying in a room that’s been unchanged since you’d moved to college. A museum of participation trophies, journals filled with woes you don’t recollect, and photos of old friends you now only text once a year on birthdays.

A booming knock at the front door jolts you out of a dead sleep. Disoriented, you reach for your phone to check the time. 1:46 AM, and at the bottom of the screen, a lone message.

Tucker: Booked a ticket for the 30th, can’t wait to see you. What does Ro want for her bday?

More thunderous pounding at the door.

“I’m coming,” you grumble, floundering out of bed. “Jesus." Your parents must’ve forgotten their house keys again.

You wipe the sleep from your eyes and lumber drowsily downstairs. You twist the lock and push open the door, your eyes narrowing at the porch light you'd left on just incase your mom had one too many lemon drops like last time.

“Y’know, you could’ve called instead of pounding on the—“

You freeze when you see a man standing before you that is not your father, though he’s around the same age - clean shaven, wearing a crisply ironed uniform. His warm breath fogs in front of him as he exhales shakily at the sight of you.

“Sorry." You pull up your sweatshirt hood, cheeks numb with December's biting chill. "I-I thought you were my— did someone call? I think you might have the wrong house.”

He asks your name, and you tell him. He introduces himself as Officer Flores, which you’d already gathered from the badge on his uniform.

“You mind if I?” He points inside, past your shoulder. “I have some…news.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “Somethin’ I think you should be sittin’ down for, hon’.”

It hits you then - the fact that it’s almost two in the morning and your parents aren’t home - no text or call from either of them.

Pressure builds rapidly behind your eyes, materializing into an instant, pulsating headache that radiates through your temples.

“My parents?” is all you can choke out while the bile in your stomach claws its way up to your esophagus.

Tears begin to sting your cheeks with burning warmth as you stand there, waiting for him to tell you what you already know. Your stomach turns at the scent of your mom's perfume remaining on your clothes - sweet notes of jasmine, iris, and vanilla, inexplicably morphing into something dismal, putrid, and nauseating.

Officer Flores grabs your shoulder and squeezes it with a hand cold enough to rival the Grim Reaper’s bony fucking grip of gloom and dread.

But he’s not the Grim Reaper. Just his messenger.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

————

“I’m sorry,” your voice breaks as you halt at the bottom of the stairs, unable to meet the pity-glazed look in Joel’s eye.

It feels as if you’d just been punched in the gut with an iron fist. And there’s no way to catch your breath - not when the air's so goddamn thick with unanswered questions.

The sound of a Romy’s bedroom door slamming makes you flinch. You fidget with the loose fabric of your shirt, eyes fixated on a glob of glitter glue stuck to the oakwood floors you’ve been meaning to mop.

Joel says your name, his tone dripping with quiet trepidation.

Your vision grows cloudy as tears begin to swell without your consent.

“Honey, look at me.”

You wipe at your tear-striped cheeks, eyes still lowered on the sparkly pink splotch of glue on the floor.

How the hell did that get there? You don't even own fucking glitter glue—

He says your name again, accent a little rougher this time.

“I need to, um - I have to go check on Ro,” you stutter.

“Okay,” he says gently.

“You should...It’s late.”

“Okay."

You tilt your chin, finally meeting his gaze. He’s looking at you like a kicked puppy. It stirs something angry inside you.

“I-I tried to tell you - I told you it was complicated,” you bite, hostility coating your tongue like a bitter cherry lozenge. “I fucking told you, and y-you wouldn’t - you didn’t—“

“How was I s’posed t’know this is what complicated meant?” he cuts in with a calm, even tone. “I knew there was somethin’ you weren’t - I asked. I asked you so many times, sweetheart.”

He did ask.

And by your count, there were about five golden opportunities to rip the band-aid off. Pull back the veil of whatever "La-la land" you had been living in. A land where your parents were still alive, and you weren’t responsible for everything and everyone they’d left behind. One where Joel could bend you over a washer, and fuck you until you feel better.

But your parents are dead, and there are three kids upstairs that take precedence over the man you’d brought into your bed when your inhibitions were numbed with alcohol.

“Go home, Joel,” you say flatly. Emotionless.

You’re displacing your anger - you know you are - but you’re so fucking upset and humiliated and zeroed in on the fact that Romy has never looked at you with that sort of betrayal laden in her eyes. You don't bother looking back as you will your wobbly legs to carry your body upstairs to go and make it right with her.

A sign that reads ‘Keep Out’ greets you fondly, tacked to the stained wood of her bedroom door. You dry the wetness settled on your lashes, extend an arm, and inhale as you prepare to knock.

Before your knuckles can make contact with the surface of the wood, you hear a strained voice.

"Go away."

“No,” you say, ignoring her, and the sign on her door as you turn the knob. “We need to talk.”

Her room glows softly - delicately strung fairy lights illuminating the every detail she’s managed spread out in just a matter of months. Posters of her favorite musicians and movies line the walls, held up by thumbtacks. Acrylic-painted vines crawl up the molding in the corners of the room. Pictures of those she holds close, scattered all throughout - a polaroid of her and Sarah sits propped against the salt lamp next to her bed.

You haven’t put up one picture since you’d moved in. The box of photos you’d taken from your parents' house sits lonely in the garage - framed, mummified memories attempting to make friends with the dust bunnies and june bug carcasses.

“I don’t have anything to say.” She rolls over, tugging her quilt over her head.

“Well,” you sigh, finding a spot on her bed, “I do.”

She pulls her blankets down, looking at you with hair plastered to her sticky, tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Ro,” you breathe. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“Why is it always me?” she asks despondently.

“What?”

“I’m always the one who has to tell people they died.”

“I tell people.”

“No you don’t,” she hisses. “You didn’t have to tell people back home. It was all over the news. I’ve had to tell everyonesince we moved to Austin.”

“I told Maya," you argue.

“I told Maya.” She frowns. “Remember? It was, like, a month after you started working at Sweet Pea’s. She asked why we were always there with you, and you made up some lame excuse, like you always do. Then I told her about Mom and Dad ‘cause I saw you all zoned out, doing that thing where you play with your sleeve when you’re anxious.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You slink down, crawling underneath the covers. She’s warm, and her cotton sheets smell like your fabric softener. “Shit, Ro. I’m sorry.”

She turns, nestling into your shoulder.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who’s processed anything. I mean, Lu barely remembers, Bear’s all sorts of messed up, and you—“ she pauses, takes a deep breath, “—you don’t ever talk about.”

“I talk about it,” you say, though not as confidently as you'd intended.

“Sure, whatever. You over-explain it to Lu, and you let Bear stay home from school when he has hard days. You always make sure I’m okay - and you make sure to tell stories about them and stuff.”

“Okay. So—“

“But you never talk to anyone about how you feel. You never tell me, or anyone else the truth when we ask. And now you’re doing the same with Mr. Miller.”

“Everyone has—“

“Different ways of grieving. I know,” she interrupts. “Dr. Kelly says that all the time - traumatic, cumulative, dissonant, blah blah blah. Which - while we’re on the subject - I don’t understand why Bear, Lu, and I have to go see a therapist, and you just get off scot-free, 'la-di-da', like you don’t need twice the help we do.”

Could this kid get any more blunt? Christ.

“I’m fine, Ro. You don’t need to worry about me so much.”

“You’re not fine. You’re literally telling people Mom and Dad are on vacation. That’s, like, twisted.”

Is it bad that you’re considering pulling her from therapy, just so she’ll stop reading you to fucking filth?

“Why didn’t you tell Joel?” she pushes.

“I don’t know. There wasn’t really a reason.” Not one you could choose from, anyway.

“That’s not—" she sighs “—you know, you change the tone of your voice when you lie.”

“You sound like Mom."

“And you lie like Bear, and we both know he sucks at it.”

“I don’t know, Ro. It just sort of…happened. And then it kept happening. I kept putting it off. It just never felt like the right time, I guess. Thought maybe Sarah’d tell him after awhile. Thought he’d figure it out for himself.”

“Mm,” she hums, dissatisfied with that answer. “This is, like, the world’s worst apology, just so you know.”

"I'm really sorry you got caught up in it. I really didn't want you to have to be the one to say anything."

"Then why didn't you just tell him in the first place, idiot?"

“Jesus, Ro. Fine,” you huff, pushing your head into her pillow. “I guess, for as long as he didn’t know the truth, it started to feel like...Mom and Dad really were out of town. Like they were still alive, as long as Mr. Miller thought they were. Or something. I don’t know. You’re really emotionally intelligent all the sudden, and it’s freaking me out.”

She chuckles softly. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. I feel that way too, sometimes. Like they’ll just walk through the door any second.”

“I feel that way everyday,” you admit quietly.

It’s silent for a moment, both of you sitting with the sour, pungent taste that statement had left in your mouths.

“Do you ever regret signing those papers?” she asks, toying with the collar of Joel's flannel.

“What? The guardianship papers?”

“Yeah.”

“Never,” you answer without allowing a second to pass. “Not once.”

“Really?”

“Really,” you affirm. “I love you all so much, I didn't even think twice before I signed. And as a bonus, I get to feel closer to Mom and Dad while I watch you all grow up.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. You notice how Lu does that thing with her eyebrows when she concentrates, just like Dad used to do when we was working on his drafts?”

“Uh-huh,” Romy mumbles sleepily.

“And Bear’s got Animal Planet on a constant loop, just like Dad did, too. And you—“ you place a kiss on the crown of her head “—every time I look at you, it’s like I’m looking at Mom. Sound like her too - got the squeaky laugh down and everything.”

She laughs breathlessly, a little squeak coming through.

“I get why you lied to Mr. Miller,” she says with heavy lids. “I wish they really were just on vacation.”

“Me too, Ro.”

“But they’re not coming back.”

“They’re not coming back,” you repeat.

You feel the dead weight of Romy’s head as she drifts on your aching chest. The soft, twinkly lights in her room begin to blur as tears fill your waterline.

They’re not coming back.

The words replay over and over and over and over, until your lungs feel deprived and the air around is too thin to fill them. Your heart pounds furiously in your chest - your head dizzy with ringing ears.

They’re not coming back. They’re not coming back. They’re not coming back.

You carefully inch your way out of her bed and rush downstairs with a helpless whimper - frustrated at the lack of oxygen in this damn house.

Your chest is tight with panic, and your effort in holding back tears feels equivalent to someone holding a fucking branding iron to your throat. You inhale, and heave out a pathetic, shaky breath when you finally reach your bedroom, pushing the door open and quickly shutting it behind you.

They’re. Not. Coming. Back.

You turn, going rigid at the sight of a broad figure silhouetted in the crescent moonlight, waiting for you at the edge of your bed. His boots sit on the floor next to him, unlaced and worn with years of hard work.

“Joel?” you ask in a strangled version of your voice.

He stands.

“They’re not coming back,” is the only thing you can articulate before a violent sob falls out of you.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

It happens all at once. An avalanche of grief and heartache and anger, tumbling down your cheeks like piles of snow off the side of a mountain, and it feels as though you might get trapped in it - suffocating with each gasping breath.

Then Joel’s arms wrap around you, embracing you, and the weight of your body as your trembling knees give out - the scent of him, placating you in a way that makes you cry harder. A way you’re unwilling to try and unpack.

The sobs you’ve muffled into your pillow. The crying you’d cut short when Lulu knocks her tiny fist on the bathroom door. The tears you wipe discreetly when you cook your mom’s recipes or listen to your dad’s music. It’s all flooding down your cheeks and puddling into the soaked fabric of his shirt.

“Joel…”

“I know, I know,” he coos. “S’okay, babygirl. M’right here.”

He guides you to the edge of your mattress and pulls you on his lap, holding your fragile body tight against his own.

“I didn’t mean - I’m sorry for…” you trail off, unable to form a sentence without the interruption of fragmented sobs.

“Focus on breathin’, sweet girl,” he says into your hair. “Just breathe, honey. Do it with me.”

He helps you, squeezing your hand as cues to breathe in and out, for as long as it takes your lungs to do their goddamn job - until your blinking, scattered thoughts begin to constellate with each practiced, deep breath.

“Attagirl. Jus’ like that. Doin’ so good, baby,” Joel says softly, his voice still so gritty. So Joel.

“M’sorry,” you whimper, scrunching in your knees and burying your head into his chest.

“I know, babygirl,” he says, running his thumb over the tender, lavender-tinged skin on your knee-cap - bruises already forming from your last apology. “I know you are.”

“Sarah?” you sniffle.

“She’s fine. Her uncle’s over for the night. Came over after work and fell asleep on my couch.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sorry I didn’t go when you asked. Couldn’t leave without makin’ sure y’were alright.”

“No,” you croak, still trying to temper your hiccuped breathing. “No, I - thank you for staying.”

You lie there for a while, cheek squished on his chest, tears finally slowing down to a steady, languid drip— stubborn, like a leaking faucet.

He’s silent, running his thick fingers through your hair while the hitching in your breathing slowly subsides. You know he’s waiting for you to talk - to explain everything you’d been so damned cryptic about. All the lying and playing pretend.

And you should explain. You want to explain.

You want to tell him you needed this - whatever this is. That until he’d offered to buy you that drink, you hadn’t felt a semblance of normalcy since the day your parents had died. Everything would be different if you told him. He would look at you with pity instead of hunger, and just the thought made you sick.

Maybe one day you’ll tell him everything. About the god awful pounding at your door in the middle of the night. How you threw up on that poor officer’s shoes the second he told you what had happened. The stained coffee mug you had buried with your dad. About the dead roses in the windowsill you still can't bear to throw out.

But you’re too drained to explain anything. Your eyelids are swollen and your head is pounding. Your body feels like a wilted, forgotten houseplant. You’re fucking exhausted.

You start to go lax in Joel’s arms, lulled by his warmth and occasional whispers.

That’s it, baby. Jus’ relax with me now. Doin' so good.

You flinch half-awake as rises with you in his arms, delicately placing you on your side of the bed. He pulls the blankets up to your chin, pushing stray locks of hair out of your face while you breathe languorously, dreams fading in and out.

He runs the back of his hand over your cheek.

“My sweet girl,” he drawls so quietly, it's almost inaudible. Like it's a secret you weren't meant to hear.

You feel his weight at the foot of the bed, coupled by the sound of boots being slipped on and laces tied.

“Joel?”

He looks over his shoulder.

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

He doesn’t say anything - just starts pulling his boots off, undressing without a word until he’s stripped down to his boxers.

The mattress groans as Joel finds his place next you. You roll over, wrapping your weary limbs around him - a leg flung over his middle, and an arm over his chest - settling into the lulling scent of cedar and whiskey on his bare skin. You could start crying all over again.

“M’sorry I lied to you,” you mumble through the haze of on-coming sleep. “Sorry I put you in that position with Ro.”

“Shhhh,” he pacifies, running his fingertips gently up and down your thigh. “S’alright, baby. I know now. S’okay.”

And it feels okay now. You feel okay. Even if he knows - even if things are different because of that - in his arms, wrapped in his scent and his warmth, counting the steady beats of his heart with your ear against his chest, you feel okay.

“Get some rest, angel.”

————

You squint through puffy eyes and salty lashes, pupils dilating at the obnoxious morning sun barreling through your curtains. You wince, clamping your eyelids shut with a silent curse.

A headache stirs when you roll toward the indent in your mattress, mindlessly reaching for Joel. Instead, you’re met with the scent of tear-free watermelon shampoo, and a mess of long waves tickling your nose.

You pull back, swollen eyes wide with confusion when you find Lulu in place of Joel, dead to the world next to you. Romy sandwiches her in like can of sardines, snoring softly, hair tousled and tangled every which way.

You lift your head and spot Bear curled up under a blanket at the foot of the bed, snuggling his scraggly, beloved teddy bear.

“What the fuck?” you mutter through a bemused laugh.

“Sissy?” Lulu asks, her little voice still grumbly with sleep.

“Hm?” You lay your head back down, brushing the hair out of sleep-worn eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love too, Lu Bug,” you say, voice hushed and soft. “Now come snuggle me. I’m cold.”

She cuddles up to you, squeezing you with spindly limbs.

You stroke Lulu's hair until she slips back into her dreams - your bleary eyes adjusting to the harsh light of day, while you mull over last night's events.

Joel knows. He knows, and everything’s different now.

You had fallen apart in front of him. He had seen you at your most vulnerable. Stripped bare, weak - in a state you'd never allowed anyone close enough to see.

Ever.

Your ears burn thinking about the guttural sobs that spilled out of you and onto his chest. There was no taking that back. No pretending it never happened.

But to be honest, you didn't really give a shit about any of that right now.

Not when you woke up, immediately craving Joel. Craving intimacy from him in a way you hadn’t before - reaching out for him like it was fucking instinct.

You needed it the second your eyes peeled open. You needed him.

But he’s gone.

And you’re left lying here in soft sheets that smell like him, while your head swims in tiring, endless circles - your mother’s last words, taunting you as you stare at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes, surrounded by the pink-cheeked, sleeping children she’d left behind unwillingly.

You’re in for it.

ao3 link: crazycomet 💫

#joel miller tlou #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel x reader #joel miller #ao3 #joel the last of us #soft joel miller #ao3 fanfic

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