#also yet another new brush and i fucking love this one

[tactax-art]

more sketchy soapghost

[razzle-n-dazzle]

Hihi!!

Can I ask for some Adam dating headcanons?

MY MAN NEEDS LOVEE

ᯓ★ "Alright, Sugartits. You, me, you know what we're going to do." Adam / reader | Headcanons This man deserves so much more love!! >:v

ᯓ As the first man, and proclaimed original dick, Adam not only is rather obnoxious with his titles though can be rude and a bit sexist. At least, that is what you first thought when you met him all those years ago; what felt like years but had actually been a few decades.

ᯓ You first met Adam in a council meeting, having been recently promoted to sit upon the council (or having been a sinner that Charlie was trying to redeem). Either way, you were not safe from Adam and his mischievous nature and it was like he could pick out new blood in the court room like a shark closing in on it's prey. You had been minding your business at first, settling yourself before you heard the sound of large wings flapping in your direction and a pair of footsteps landing behind you. Followed by another, smaller pair. The marble floor wasn't great in hiding their landing, but you guessed they weren't trying to be sneaky the moment that Adam had opened his mouth.

ᯓ "Shit, you're the new guy that Sera was talking about? Man, you're even shorter than I thought you were, Babe." Adam would laugh, jutting out his arm to measure the height comparison between you and him. You would turn around to this, and was quickly unamused by his antics. "Adam, I presume?" You would mumble back to him, face dropped in annoyance that he didn't seem to pick up on. He just seemed rather overly excited that you had knew his name. "Oh fuck! Mortal souls still talk about me down there on Earth? Well, I wouldn't expect anything else I fucking rock."

ᯓ He was pretentious, that was the best word you could describe him as. Rude, arrogant, obnoxious, pretentious. He boiled your blood anytime he opened his stupid mouth and you often just wanted to shove your hand down his throat just to rip it out. He would constantly barge into your office and appear behind you in court just to annoy you and see "what you're working on," since he's technically "your boss" and he just doesn't see anything "wrong with it". You've had to shove him out of your office so many times; had even complained to your superiors about his behavior and yet no one seemed to take you seriously. They would shrug their shoulders (especially Sera) and just claim: "That was Adam" and you just had to "deal with it." Oh and that made you want to punch the little fucker even more.

ᯓ Your 'professional relationship' with Adam started off extremely rocky and you tried your best to avoid him in the halls and courtroom at all cost. The less you had to see him, the less you had to hear about him, the less your had to hear him or even stand to be near him, the better.

ᯓ And Adam noticed. He noticed really quickly actually.

ᯓ Not like it was hard to notice, you basically avoided him at all costs. Taking another hallway if you saw or heard him coming down one, shoving past him if he tried to block your path, ignoring him if he tried to talk to you, and so much more that he brushed off. Constantly, you heard him turn to Lute and point at you, jokingly telling her: "It must be that time of the month." With his stupid grin and cheesy smile. (Does this even if you are male) And you thought it was just him trying to get under your skin and annoy you into talking to him again; or even acknowledging his presence. You also had a hunch that it was him trying to save his 'precious little ego' that makes him so insufferable to be near.

ᯓ Yet, it was odd. For how much you hated, no loathed Adam, you couldn't get his stupid face and idiotic voice out of your head when you were along, shrouded in the dead of night. Especially on nights like tonight: Where you were sat along in your office, the chimes of midnight ringing along Heaven, as night clouded and contaminated the once gleaming city of day. You were leaning over your desk, trying to finish an assignment given to you by Sera; an assignment that was important to your continuation of climbing the council ladder. And yet all you could hear was that stupid fucker's voice in your head constantly. His remarks, his tone, his- ugh! His stupid, stupid voice why couldn't it just leave you alone.

ᯓ Why couldn't he just leave you alone?

ᯓ . . . but, dammit, why did you feel comforted by the thought?

ᯓ In reality you shouldn't be, you should never feel comfortable around a prick like Adam who only searches for one thing in women; sex, ass, and tits. Three things, okay, but it's all in the general same category. He was the man who would be at the top of your hitlist, if you could have one in heaven, yet his voice was the only thing keeping you up right now; Letting you fight off sleep for another night and finish this report sooner than Sera said she wanted it just to show her how capable you are. And as you continued to scribble away, letting the moon crescent slip back under the clouds to let it's sister sun peak over with it's gleaming light, it hit you. And the realization of WHY hit you hard, and the truth made you stop in your tracks. The final period to end your assignment taunting you along with your thoughts:

ᯓ Somehow, someway, you had started to grow a crush on that fucker.

ᯓ Somehow, by some grace (more like punishment), of God did you begin to harbor something other than loathing for Adam. For the annoying Adam who constantly picked you out in a room and came over to talk to you. The Adam, which you never noticed, began to grow more tolerable even if you kept up your act of avoiding him. The Adam, who constantly comes in to see what your doing but then asks you a million and one questions, not because he cares about your work but because in some twisted sense in his mind, that's him caring about you or trying to get to know you. The Adam who called you Sugartits and Babe all in your first 2 seconds of meeting. "Fucking Adam.." You would grumble under your breath, slamming your pen down to finish that last period as a mix of emotions boiled in your blood.

ᯓ "Fuck me? Kinky, but what the fuck did I do to you, I just got in!" Shit. Well, this is such a great start in trying to get to know Adam better. (I hope you can hear the sarcasm that is basically pooling on the floor)

ᯓ Yet, somehow, no matter how rocky the situation ship started, somehow Adam had a big enough of an ego to see it through and you had gained enough patience to put up with his bullshit. And trust me when I say, you need either need to match his energy, yet in a more responsible way, or have enough patience to deal with this man or your drowning under his egoistical bullshit. (Adam needs a Hispanic wife desperately. /j)

ᯓ For the most part, your relationship is actually rather lovely. Most wouldn't believe it, seeing as Adam is.. well Adam, but you were able to see the weirdly good intentions behind his rather questionable and problematic choices. As for such, when he had gone to Sera to start the extermination, during the whole meeting all he could think about was keeping you safe. What was the best way to keep you safe? How could he keep you from being entranced by Lucifer or Lilith and their sin and evil? He didn't want to lose you like he lost Eve and Lilith. Sure, he joked about being a fuckboy and a player (at least that's how he comes off) yet he never has actually touched anyone after Eve. He was waiting for someone, someone like you, to capture his attention and soon after his heart; and he chased after you and he was going to keep you, and he was going to protect you if it was the last thing he did. Because as much as Adam hates to admit it, he is terrified to be alone; to live all the rest of his immortality by himself, going home to an apartment with no one to share the warmth and feeling that empty wound in his heart.

ᯓ Adam, on the lighter note, is also the type of man who will go to a restaurant with you and claim he'll try something new; i.e. lobster. You had known, at an instant, that it would go wrong and decided to order any sort of red meat you could find that you knew Adam would like. And, wouldn't you know it, when you two got the food he couldn't bare eating that lobster. So, you offered to switch your plates and he was more than happy to. You don't think he's caught on yet, but you'll keep it a secret just to be able to see the excited grin he gets before snatching your plate with a "Thanks Babe!" and even kissing you later.

ᯓ You learn very quickly the only way to get Adam to start cleaning around the house is to either A) let him play his guitar for you, to simulate that he's helping by giving you motivation (and swooning over his voice a little) or B) playing music similar to that Adam plays (like AC/DC, Imagine Dragons, anything Indie-rock) and give him small tasks to do that slowly equate to one larger task. And then, of course, there is always his favorite option C) hug your waist and make it impossible for you to clean your shared apartment as he basically speaks dirty into your ear with his classical snicker.

ᯓ You're guys sex life is amazing though, Adam makes sure of that (so that cunt Lucifer can't take you from him like he did Lilith and Eve, through 'temptation'). But, honestly, you're the only person he has given head to or has eaten out, pick your choice. Either way, man goes crazy if you tug on his hair or tell him you won't ever leave him.

ᯓ The first time you saw Adam with his mask off was an experience, both for you and for him. For a long, long time Adam kept his mask on around you, even while in private, and you've always asked why he did so but he would never give you a straight answer and would brush around it. You often chalked it up to be a comfort thing for him, to make him feel stronger than he actually was and you didn't bother him much. Yet one day, you got oh so curious about what his face was like under the mask that you couldn't help yourself: Sitting next to Adam outside on the balcony, you listened as he prattled on about his work day all the while he ate. He was having some burgers you had cooked for him before he got home, as he exclaimed about, "These bitches don't know who the fuck they were talking to! I mean, hello, I'm fucking Adam I'm the dick master and I would have fucked them into next Friday! I'm like 10 times cooler and stronger than them, bitches thought they could come into the exorcists and make fun of me, well I-..." Adam paused unnaturally, a confusion sweeping over his digitalized golden-accented features. "Babe, what the fuck are you doing?" He would add on no more than 5 seconds later, noticing had you had moved from your seat and basically were straddling him right now. Though you didn't hear him, well you did but you shut it out as soon as he opened his mouth again; "You know, this is making me fucking hard right now and if you just wanted your sweet little insides-" "Adam." You hushed him as his arms wrapped around your waist and brought you closer. There was no missing the way his eyes widened in suprise at your sterner tone. Though his grin returned, another crude comment about to slip from his lips before he hushed again; Doing so as your hands had meet and cupped his cheeks in such an oddly tender way. And Adam had a hunch what you wanted to do, or well what you wanted to see, and he felt those same nerves churn in his stomach again anytime this topic was brought up. Yet, no matter how much he noticed the want in your eyes, you didn't ask him. All you simply did was lean towards him and place your forehead against his, closing your eyes. And all Adam could do was stare at you, stare at your beauty in the light of the setting sun, and feel those nerves slowly string loose. And he felt safe; for the first time in a long, long, time he felt safe. "Babe.." And his voice cracked, causing your eyes to shoot open with worry. You drew away from Adam, your hands darting down to his shoulders as you wondered if you had somehow offended or harmed him. Yet all he did was smile softly at you as his wings fluffed out, basking in the light for a moment, before encapsulating the both of you. He was hesitant, his eyes drawing away from you as he took a moment to gather himself before he pulled off the mask for the first time. And you swore, in that moment, you somehow both practically died again and fell for him. "Oh shit.." You would mumble, catching Adam's attention rather quickly. You saw the worry contort on his face, "You've been hiding this handsome face from me, Adam what the fuck?! I would have much rather look at this than your fucking mask when you were blowing my brains out you b-" "Woah babe," Adam's hand rushed up and covered your mouth. You saw his scheming smirk playing onto his lips, "I can fuck you now if you want to, but I thought we were having a moment! Look at you, ruining it this time instead of me!~"

ᯓ Oh the fucking tease.

ᯓ Adam isn't perfect, far from it, but you aren't either. You honestly probably help each other over come traumas of the past and heal together. After all, you're both just a burning pile of hot mess, so why not be a burning pile together?

Home | Masterlist

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

(Hope this was good! :D I haven't written since I had gotten sick and writer's fog/block, so this might be a little more shaky than my regular work. I would appreciate any constructive critiques you may have!)

[coryosbaby]

i need more felix shit from u 😣😣

—Jealous Girl !

Fandom: ‘Saltburn’

Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)

Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.

Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix

If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.

He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.

And you fucking hate it.

It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.

But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.

Not enough like a lover.

It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.

You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.

The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.

‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’

It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.

And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.

Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.

He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.

“(Y/N!)”

Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.

Felix and her.

Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.

Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.

You can’t look any longer.

You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.

It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.

But he isn’t Felix.

Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.

You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.

It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.

Just how you want Felix to be.

You decide not to return to the party.

—

Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—

Shit, is this even your hallway?

You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.

Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.

You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.

It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.

“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”

And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.

“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”

Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.

The color drains from your face.

Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.

He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.

Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.

Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.

“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.

You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.

So much for parties.

—

When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.

Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.

It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.

You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.

You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.

God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?

Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.

You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.

Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.

You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.

—

It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.

You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.

“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”

Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.

“And you’re not?”

He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Are you going to behave?”

A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.

“No.”

You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.

“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.

He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.

“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I’ll behave.”

He hisses it, and you’re pleased.

“Good boy.”

And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.

—

The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.

You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.

You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.

It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.

“We need to talk.”

You keep walking, him trailing behind you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”

His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.

“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.

He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”

He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.

He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.

“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”

“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“

You clench your teeth.

“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”

You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.

God, this is so wrong.

“I think you know.”

Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.

“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”

“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”

You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.

“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“

Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.

You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.

Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.

“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.

“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”

The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?

The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.

“What?”

You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.

“You heard me, Felix.”

His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.

“So that’s what you want?”

It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.

“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”

You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.

“God, you’re sick.”

He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.

“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“

Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”

“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.

“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”

You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.

“You think that I don’t want you like this?”

It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.

“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“

He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.

“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.

“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.

“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.

“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”

That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.

You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.

“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”

You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”

Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.

After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.

It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.

“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”

“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”

He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.

“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”

He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.

“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.

“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”

You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.

Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”

He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.

He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.

“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.

“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”

“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”

You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.

Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.

He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”

Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.

“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“

“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.

“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

[trivia-yandere]

fixation

a look into where it all began with jungkook and how much he loves having his lips on you… @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom

warning: step-sibling relationship, coercion, oral sex, slight yandere behavior, manipulation, nipple sucking, dry humping/grinding, fingering,

word count: 4.639

series masterlist

You’ve known Jeon Jungkook since you were a child - 10 years of age.  Your father had brought his mother - a beautiful woman, you’d admit, and her son over for dinner one night while you stayed the weekend with him. “Y/N, this is Jungkook.” you recall your father speaking, his hands upon Jungkook’s shoulders. You were seated at the dining table when the two of them arrived. “He’s going to be your brother.”

Jungkook acted the part - even if the two of you were the same age - as the annoying brother. You could also blame your 10 year old self, as well, for how you acted. You were an only child - a girl, at that - and finally, your father had a son. He and Jungkook watched sports together and went to games often. They would go fishing and when you came on the weekend, you’d hear Jungkook brag about it constantly.

But even if your father now had a son, Jungkook’s mother had a daughter. She enjoyed doing your hair the best she could and attempting to go places with you that she could only dream a mother and daughter duo would go - but that never angered Jungkook as much as it angered you that he was with your father. 

“It's just a little sibling rivalry.” your father said to Jungkook’s mother - now his wife - when you and Jungkook were attending middle school. Jungkook was new to your school and yet, he excelled. He had more friends than you and charted the highest scores - the two of you being tied academically. 

Every worry Jungkook’s mother had was brushed off by your father. “They act just like siblings.” he’d say with a laugh whenever you and Jungkook bickered over everything - and nothing. You dreaded going to your fathers on the weekends because that meant that you’d have to see and deal with Jungkook entirely - and he was nothing but a pain in the ass.

High School was the same, the only difference was the change in appearances. Jungkook grew overnight it seems and his high voice deepened. He worked out more due to him playing sports and that also meant his body changed, as well. 

“That’s your brother?!” a friend said with wide eyes when Jungkook had given you a sideways hug (a rule he had broken just to piss you off) and said: “Dad wants us to ride home together.”

And from that moment, you were Jungkook’s sister - not Y/N, but Jeon fucking Jungkook’s sister and you suspected he did it purposely. 

And Jungkook had - something he’d never admit to you. Just as his body developed in High School, so has yours and by senior year you were the talk of the boys locker room (as were most senior girls). “Y/N’s ass is amazing.” one boy had said as he walked in, his eyes focused down the hall where Jungkook assumed you were standing. “She has the perfect hips.”

“Her lips are good, too.” said another boy. “I just know she knows how to suck-”

“That’s my sister.” Jungkook deadpanned, his eyes narrow at the boys who immediately silence their crude talk about you.

A side of Jungkook told himself that he respected you as his (step) sister and didn’t like the filthy thoughts coming from others. But then there was the side of him that he wanted to bury away that agreed with them.

Jungkook had noticed that same day how your hips were nice and your ass was amazing. As you and he walked out of school together that Friday, he noticed as you sat in his car (a gift from your father since Jungkook had gotten his license before you) that your lips were good. You were coating them with gloss, eyes focused on the mirror to not mess anything up. 

Once these thoughts were there, they weren’t going away; as disgusting as it was.

You were his (step) sister and Jungkook had respect for you - even if the two of you fought constantly. You appeared to dislike him as a whole as you grew older and of course, he’d tease you and say it was because he was better than you at everything - but still, you were his sister.

The thoughts he held for you were impure and they weren’t going to go away until he fixed them.

It started subtle at first; light touches. He’d brush by you on the weekends when you’d come. Now teenagers at 18 of age, you two were often left alone. Your father would often go out with Jungkook’s mother and neither of you minded - Jungkook would bring his friends over and sometimes, you’d do the same. This weekend was different, however. There was a change in Jungkook’s behavior.

Jungkook would hold your hips often when passing by. He’d place a hand on your lower back when he comes up from behind you. His teasing never ceased, but they became more…sensual? 

Your mind tells you that it’s in your head. Jungkook was (unfortunately) your brother - step brother - but a brother nonetheless. He has now introduced you as his sister at school and that now means you had girls you’d never talk to attempting to speak with you in order to get to the person that was Jeon Jungkook.

The first time you’ve done something with Jeon Jungkook you had cried and vomited when you came back to your senses. “Stop being scared.” Jungkook said, passing you the glass with a shot's worth of alcohol in it. “Dad would never know.”

You grabbed the glass only because you didn’t want to appear like a loser. It was the weekend once more and you stayed at your father’s home and it was the same weekend your father and step-mother were celebrating their anniversary away. They felt comfortable leaving you and Jungkook alone more now since graduation was right around the corner. 

 A few friends and no parties was your father’s rule and that’s exactly what you’ve stuck by. Jungkook had a few friends each over while you decided to remain alone - Taehyung was someone you were nervous around because he was older and college age. He was far more experienced in drinking than you’d ever be and you didn’t want to appear like a fool.

“Your sister’s so cute.” Jimin had said to you - the same age as Taehyung and attending the same college. He laughed when your face scrunched in disgust at the harsh taste of the alcohol. “So innocent.” he murmured. 

It didn’t take long for the effects of the alcohol to flow through you entirely and you were now looser. You laughed along to whatever Taehyung said, a hot feeling running through you. The man sees the glossy look in your eyes as you look at him with such innocent-like eyes and he does nothing but pat your head gently - you were someone he had to remain at a distance because you were his younger friend's sister.

“You like Tae.” Jungkook said to you once his friends had left and you and he were left alone. “He’ll never like you back, you know? Bro code.”

Your head is spinning slightly and all you can hear is the annoying voice of Jungkook ruining your vibe. You grabbed the bottle from his hands and took a messy swig of it. “Fuck you.” you slur.

Jungkook scoffs, his eyes racking your figure. You had taken off the hoodie you wore an hour ago and now stayed in a tanktop and shorts. 

“No one likes me because of you.”

“That’s not true. Everyone likes you.” Jungkook had scoffed - he’s come across enough locker room talk about you.

“And no one wants to do anything with me because of you!” you hissed. You were drunk, Jungkook notes, and now your feelings were falling right into his lap. 

“You should be thanking me. They just want to use you for your body. They can smell your virginity from a mile away.”

Your eyes widen and your body heats with embarrassment. Without thinking, you threw the bottle at Jungkook. It smashes against his chin and he releases a loud groan at you doing so.

“I-I’m sorry-” you didn't actually intend for the bottle to connect. 

Jungkook presses his lips against yours, hands roughly grabbing your hips to keep you down. You’re shocked at the action and for a moment, you’re stuck on what to do or how to react. 

You’ve kissed a boy before, sure, but not Jungkook - his lips are soft and not as chapped as the last boy you’ve kissed. 

Jungkook pushes himself away as if realizing his mistake, his eyes are just as wide as yours and before he can apologize for his actions, you vomit completely on him, hot tears pouring down from your eyes. Now you’re truly embarrassed; humiliated. You were crying because the thought of kissing Jungkook sends shockwaves of both disgust and a taboo pleasure; and because you also vomited on him.

You ran to your room, stumbling a bit because the room was spinning entirely too much. You ignored Jungkook’s calls for you entirely and slammed your door shut.

You felt stupid, disgusted and humiliated all at once. 

It was the following morning where you were forced to face Jungkook once more, now sober, and this time the boy refused to be ignored. You were fresh out of the shower, speed walking down to your bedroom where you were face to face with Jungkook, him sitting directly on your bed. 

“Good morning.” Jungkook says cooly, his eyes on your face as if awaiting for your reaction. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, clenching the towel on your body tighter. 

“Are you scared of me, Y/N?”

You’re taken aback by the question. “No.” you answer truthfully - there wasn't a reason to. Jungkook wasn’t a threat to you. 

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“More like a roach.” you spit, and Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to talk about last night.”

You swallow, the room now growing hot. “What about last night?” you say, stepping into your room. “I got drunk…I don’t really remember what happened.” 

Jungkook watches you intently as you enter your closet and crack the door gently. It was big enough for you to hide in it for a moment to grab a robe and return. “Did I do something to embarrass myself?” you laugh humorlessly. 

You’re shaking with nerves and Jungkook knows you’re lying; pretending to not know what has happened. 

“You don’t remember?” Jungkook furrows a brow, turning to you fully. You sit on your bed, back pressed against the headboard.

You shake your head. 

“Hm.” Jungkook stands. “That’s too bad.” 

You swallow a dry lump in your throat, a part of you wanting to question what Jungkook meant by “too bad”. 

“You told me it was my fault that no one touches you.” Jungkook says after a moment of reading your face. “I’m sorry for that.”

Your body is hot; you remembered saying that. You remembered it all, as drunk as you were. You’re surprised you didn’t wake up with a hangover.

“It’s not your fault.” you murmur, glancing away. 

“I know.” Jungkook snickers. “Still, I know how boys are, Y/N. I am one.” he says. “They’ll take advantage of you. They’ll use you just to get in your pants.”

The conversation was going left, you note. You and Jungkook never spoke about this - sex or boys or anything related. He once teased you for having a crush back in middle school and that caused you to push him hard in a puddle of mud. He was so embarrassed about “being pushed by a girl” that he told your father that he tripped instead. 

“You should experience…” Jungkook trails off, as if trying to find the correct words to say. “...being touched by someone you love-”

“Please stop the speech.” you’re cringing, never in a million years thinking you’d hear this from Jungkook of all people. 

“I’m being serious Y/N.” Jungkook comes around to sit directly in front of you, eyes watching you closely. “It’s better with someone you love.”

“Did you love anyone you,” you raise your hands to do air quotes. “touched.”

Jungkook snickers. “I’m a boy. We’re wired differently.” he brushed your question off. “You’re a girl. You’re not. You’ll grow attached to the person who takes your virginity and they’ll let you down. And as your brother,” Jungkook’s eyes zone in on you so deep that it catches you by surprise. “I’ll have to kill them.”

You roll your eyes - but goosebumps litter the skin of your arms. “You’re so unserious.” you respond. “Since when do you play the step-brother role?”

“Since now. I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook smiles, his teeth - that reminded you of a bunny - on full display. “That’s why I want to be the one to…touch you.”

Now, in this instant, you’re positive that you looked like you’ve seen a ghost. Your body is stiff and your eyes widen at Jungkook’s words. He doesn’t speak for a moment to allow your mind to think about the words he’s spoken. 

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

Jungkook doesn’t appear as distraught as you - he was the one to suggest it. 

“W-What are you saying?” you hiss at him, body hot. You’re sure this was another cruel joke Jungkook was going to push at you. He was going to burst out laughing at any minute and it was just a ruse to fluster you even more.

“I’m saying,” Jungkook tilts his head. “I want to be the one to pleasure you first.” he reiterates nonchalantly. “I can’t think of anyone that would love you more than me. You’re my sister-”

“Don’t call me that!” you hiss at Jungkook. 

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Why not? Is it not true?” he asks. “You’re my step-sister. If you want to lose your virginity then I’ll be the perfect person to do so. I actually care for your feelings, don’t I?” he shrugs his shoulders. 

You shake your head, mind trying to adjust to Jungkook’s words. “You’re crazy.” you scoff, but you glance away for a moment to think about what he’s said. 

“You’d rather have sex with someone you don’t love than me?” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest. 

“You’re my broth…step-brother.” you respond. “It’s kinda weird thinking about you in that way.”

“Then don’t.” Jungkook shrugs. “Just think of me as Jungkook. We’re both seniors in High School about to graduate. Do you really want to go to college as a virgin?”

Going to college as a virgin shouldn’t bother you - you weren’t there to be fucked into oblivion countless times. However, your childish mind tells you that going to college without any experience was going to be your downfall. You think about Jungkook’s older friends - how Jimin called you innocent. How Taehyung lightly patted your head to dismiss you.

Jungkook watches your face fall and he understands that slowly, you were considering his proposal.

“We don’t have to jump into sex completely. Since you’re new to this I want to focus on your pleasure.”

“Like what?” you ask innocently. 

Jungkook offers a soft smile. “You trust me, right? I love you and you love me.”

Slowly, you nod. You’re sure you did love Jungkook - knowing his since you were a child and growing up alongside him.

“Okay.” Jungkook nods his head, inching closer to your stiff frame. He places a hand onto your face. “It’s just me, remember. You don’t have to be scared.”

You nod your head hesitantly. You didn’t have to be scared, yet you were. The thought of doing anything sexual with Jungkook causes fear to run through your veins - getting caught in the act was yet another fear. Your father wouldn’t be returning until Monday afternoon, but that didn’t cause your nerves to cease.

Jungkook leans closer to press a kiss against your lips much like he did the night prior, only this time more gentle. His lips were what you remembered them to be - soft and…a hint of strawberry? Jungkook often wore chapstick so you weren’t as confused as you would’ve been. 

You don’t move and allow Jungkook to completely take charge. “I’m going to continue to kiss you.” he murmurs breathily against your lips and you can only nod. But Jungkook doesn’t kiss your mouth, he instead kisses down your jawline to your chin and reaches your neck. “Lay down.” he instructs.

Your robe hikes up your thigh as you do as Jungkook tells you and it’s that moment that you remember that you were naked under the silk material - how you forgot was beyond you. 

A hand touches your outer thigh and you flinch, nerves kicking back in. 

“It’s just me.” Jungkook repeats against your neck. “Open your legs.”

It takes you a moment to listen to Jungkook. You’re trembling when you finally do open your legs and Jungkook takes it upon himself to wrap them around his waist. 

Jungkook’s closer - the closest he’s ever been to you. You were naked right beneath him, the silk robe only reaching higher and higher up your thigh that you have no coverage whatsoever. 

Jungkook’s sweats are thick, but he’s directly against your core and he could feel the pulsing from between your legs, similar to a heart beat. 

Your skin is soft, Jungkook notes while both hands run beneath the robe. He inches up slowly, enjoying the way your breathing becomes heavy.

“Jung-” you don’t finish your speech and it’s interrupted by both of Jungkook’s hands engulfing your ass entirely. 

Jungkook shudders at the feel of you. His sweats were becoming tight but he knows he cannot act on his urges - not when you were trusting him with this. 

Jungkook’s kisses proceed to go past your neck, hands rising  upwards to untie your robe. It falls open and now Jungkook has full access to your naked body.

“You have such a slutty body, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs, his voice deeper than usual. You want to ask what that meant and if it was bad; but Jungkook doesn’t allow you to. His hands engulf your breast fully, his thumbs rubbing along your erect nipples. 

“Does that feel good?” Jungkook asks, his eyes darting from your breast to your face. 

You slowly nod your head, embarrassed at how good it did feel. 

“Good.” Jungkook mumbles. Your breast felt as amazing as your ass and fit perfectly in the palms of his hand. His own breathing intensified, his cock throbbing to be released from the prison that was his underwear and sweatpants. “You’re aroused. I can feel your through my sweats.”

“Sorry-”

“Don’t apologize.” Jungkook snickers. “You’re supposed to be. Here,”

Jungkook wanted to feel you as much as he possibly could. He removes himself from you briefly, his warmth gone entirely that you slightly shiver. He then lowers his sweats enough so that he’s only in his underwear, his erection appearing painfully hard. 

“You can grind against me. It’ll feel good.” Jungkook returns to you, left hand dipping to grip your ass and press you firmly against his clothed erection. The material of his underwear briefs are far more thin than his sweats and he’s thankful that he gets to feel some part of you.

While Jungkook’s left hand grips your ass, his left goes to rub along your breast, his thumb and index pinching your nipple for a reaction.

You yelp when you feel a new sensation - Jungkook’s tongue. He’s ensuring every part of you has a form of pleasure, his tongue swirling on your other nipple entirely.

Jungkook’s hips thrust into you, his eyes fluttering close. His pleasure could never match what you were feeling now, but even doing the deed - something so forbidden for step-siblings - was causing a wave of adrenaline and pleasure to flow through him.

The pleasure you were feeling was just as foreign, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt. You could feel the sticky arousal between your legs that’s staining Jungkook’s underwear. You couldn’t care now, not when you were matching Jungkook’s thrust with your own grinding.

This isn’t good, you tell yourself. Jungkook and you weren’t supposed to be doing this.

But it felt good - Jungkook’s tongue suckling on your breast, his hand gripping your ass so tight while he’s grinding against you. 

“I told you it’ll feel better when you do it with someone you love.” Jungkook says against your breast, his tongue flickering out his lips to flicker against your nipple. 

The amount of times Jungkook and you continued to engage in sexual acts should be unhealthy. It should have stopped after the first time - but it didn’t. You’re embarrassed to say that you came just by grinding against him, an act that Jungkook found so hot that he wanted to do it again and again and again.

The entire weekend was you and Jungkook. Slowly, you became comfortable with being with him. By the third day, you had since sat in his lap completely naked just in hopes of getting off - and Jungkook allowed it. He loved watching the way you succumb with pleasure,  so wet and ready to cum that you didn’t care what he was doing. He had to mute his microphone on his game that he was playing with Taehyung, ignoring the screams his friend was shouting over the headset about their team losing because of him - but Jungkook didn’t care.

One thing Jungkook enjoyed was tasting you, as weird as it sounded. He’s done this before with other girls - but you were different. He enjoyed sucking and kissing on your kiss and watching your raw reaction to it. He’d place his hands upon your hips as you grind against his cock,  his tongue rubbing along your soft skin. Your breasts were littered with hickies now and you didn’t care in the slightest.

But Jungkook is salivating at the thought of getting to taste you. He can feel how wet your are, your pussy releasing sweet arousal all over his cock that it’s a waste that he hasn’t tasted it. 

The idea of you spread before him as he ravishes your pussy, your moans high and full of lust.

Jungkook is going to do so - now. He doesn’t care if you’re on the phone with your friends; you’ve interrupted him when he was on his game. He had to hear Taehyung berate him for an hour straight.

You’re already naked, Jungkook notes, and that’s good. While you and he started this only two days ago, you wanted him at every given moment and being naked was the quickest way for you to have him. 

Jungkook enters your room without knocking and you furrow a brow at him. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t need to. You know what he wants (in a way) and you’ll always be ready to give it to him. 

What you aren’t expecting was Jungkook to pull your legs apart, and without warning, dive right into it. His tongue lays flat against your clit, his hands going beneath your thighs to assure you don’t close them.

You yelp loudly at the sudden action, a low groan releasing from your lips.

“I-I’m okay.” you tell your friend over the phone. “K-Keep telling me what happened.”

You mute your phone and place it aside. “W-What-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook tells you. He doesn’t want to think about anything but tasting you, having you cum all over his lips. 

Your friend's speech dies down in the background. Jungkook doesn’t allow any time for you to adjust, his tongue laps between your folds hungrily. Your moans are as sweet as your pussy and he focuses on it and your pleasure entirely. He slurps and sucks against your clit as if it’s his last meal.

“Jungkook, I-I-”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up to look at you and once more, you groan. 

This is bad, you think. No, worse. 

You told yourself that eventually, you and Jungkook would need to stop this. That you couldn’t keep allowing him to make you cum; but then he makes it harder. Grinding against him was one thing - still bad seeing as he was your step-brother - but this? This was worst.

And the worst felt so good.

“K-Kookie,  please-”

You haven’t called Jungkook that since middle school - a nickname he hated as he grew older. But the name sounds so sweet coming from your lips that he just wants to ravish your pussy even more. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, then swipes his tongue against your clit slowly. He keeps his eyes on you as he does this, your reaction enticing him. “Want you to cum on my face.”

Your thighs quiver at Jungkook's words, body radiating with heat. Slowly you nod your head, slightly anticipating the new found pleasure Jungkook was giving you.

“It’ll feel good…” Jungkook says suddenly. “...might feel a little different.”

You’re unsure what he’s speaking of until you feel pressure. Your walls clench around his fingers, the feeling completely unexpected and unfamiliar. 

“Relax, Y/N. It’ll feel good soon.”

Jungkook continues to lick on your clit, slowly entering his fingers deeper inside of you. You’re tight - the tightest he’s ever felt. But you were also a virgin and this was something he’s never had before. It excites him greatly, the thought of you giving your body to him; him being your first for everything sends shock waves through him.

You hum low and your thigh twitches. Jungkook's fingers are long and they’re now hitting a nerve deep inside of you. 

Your back arches as Jungkook picks up the pace in his thrusting. His eyes never leave you as he does, enjoying the way your face contorts with pleasure. You’re beautiful, he thinks, as he always thought you were. Now you’re beautiful to him in more ways than one and your body has developed gracefully over the years.

Your eyes snap shut, a long moan releasing deep from your throat. You’re positive that this was going to make you cum quick - the quickest you’ve ever had. 

“You’re so wet, Y/N.” Jungkook says, hovering above you. He doesn’t stop his thrusting fingers and his eyes are fixed on how good the sight of you is. “Aren’t you happy you agreed to this?”

“Yes!” you moan, nodding your head. There’s that familiar bubbling in your stomach creeping up on you.

“So pretty…” Jungkook groans. Your juices were leaking onto his palm entirely. He can’t wait until he could have you the way he wants to - to fully pleasure you the best way he knows how. 

This isn’t something Jungkook ever wants to stop doing - the rush that goes through him at the fact that this is something you and he were not supposed to be doing. The forbidden action makes him want you even more - want you at times he truly shouldn’t and he ponders how he would react when you two were no longer alone. 

Your thighs are shaking erratically and Jungkook knows you’re cumming. This must be bliss for you, he thinks, cumming so much in such a short amount of time. You’re just lucky that it was him - someone who truly loved you - that was doing this for you. Another person wouldn’t care if you came or not.

Jungkook presses a kiss against your lips as you ride out your orgasm. He sends them across your cheek to your neck as you slowly begin to calm down from your high. “I think your friend hung up.” Jungkook says, eyes glancing at your discarded phone. 

You don’t respond, exhaustion hitting you drastically. 

Jungkook pecks your lips once more. “Next time, I want you to sit on my face.” he says to you, removing his fingers entirely.

This was bad, you think. But you didn’t want it to end.

next (tape) | series masterlist | final (sibling rivalry)

[straykeedz]

Can you do a Bangchan x reader smut/fluff? Also, keep up the great work!

𝒾'𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉 🥺 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 @linosssss ♡

𝐭𝐰: 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐲 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) ; 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐯 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!) ; 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞 ;

𝐰𝐜: 3,7𝐤

-> 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.

🏡

The house is full of boxes. 

Not just the house. Your house. The house you and Chan have just moved into. Literally just - considering you carried the last carton box inside your new apartment half an hour ago with the help of Chan’ friends. Your house - your dream has finally become true, and from now on you and Chan will be living together. Crazy.

Your eyes take in the small, yet welcoming living room, and a big smile spreads on your face. You can’t wait for the furniture to be here - which should be tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan. However right now, as you’re sitting on the hard, cold floor with your back leaning against the wall with Chan by your side and an empty carton of pizza on his legs, you can’t bring yourself to complain about not having a couch to lie down on. Or a table. Or a bed frame. You have everything you need by your side anyway - him. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ of, love?” Chan’ voice interrupts your thoughts. 

You turn to look at him, and find him already smiling at you - cute dimples and everything. How is it even possible, to be so in love with a person? 

“Just how much I love you,” you shrug, turning your face to look at him. “And how happy I am that we’re here, in our house,” you can’t help but smile widely at him. “It feels weird to say, our house,” you giggle.

“Good weird, I hope,” Chan teases, leaning in to brush your nose with his. He knows you’re as excited and happy as he is, you’ve both been dreaming it for a long time and now that it’s finally true you almost can’t believe it, it’s a happiness neither of you ever felt before. 

With you being busy with college and Chan always being snowed under work, there was never a good time to move in together - not to mention that neither of you made enough money to afford living alone. So you would live with your roommates and split rent, and he’d do the same, and you’d only see each other during the weekends - needless to say, the intimacy was pretty much nonexistent. But now everything’s different, and from now on you’ll have a whole place by yourself and you’ll be free to do whatever you want, so yeah, it’s definitely a “good” weird. 

“Of course it’s a good weird!”, you peck his lips, still a bit salty from the pizza he ate. “Gosh, I’m so happy…” you repeat for the millionth time today. 

“I am, too, love,” he bites his lip. “Like, we finally have our own place, it’s crazy!”, he places a kiss on your naked shoulder. 

It’s spring, your anniversary is approaching. This year will be your fourth. 

Four years sound like a big deal. Part of you is scared of what adult life holds for you: responsibilities, bills to pay, changes to face, ageing - another part of you, though, can’t wait to face it all with Chan by your side, the man you want to be with for the rest of your life. It sounds crazy, to think you’ve found the love of your life at such a young age, but you also know it’s one hundred percent the truth. He’s incredible, everything you ever wished for in a partner and so much more: smart, kind, in touch with his emotion in a healthy way, mature, and last but not least - he’s fucking great in bed. Like - fucking great. He’s a dream.

Now that you’re thinking about it, having a whole place by yourselves also means that you’ll finally be able to have sex whenever you want without worrying about your or his roommates catching you or interrupting you while you’re at it - like that time his dear friend Jisung bursted inside Chan’ bedroom while he was giving it to you from behind real good. And from now on you won’t have to worry about keeping quiet anymore, nor to lock your bedroom door. You could have sex in the kitchen in broad daylight if you wanted to. 

“Mh-hm, we have our own place, which means…”, you take the pizza box from his lap and place it on the floor. Then, you straddle him, and his arms immediately find their way around your waist,  pulling you even closer so that you’re now sitting on his crotch. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”, he whispers on your lips, drawing imaginary shapes over your clothes with his thumbs. Under your body, you can feel his cock beginning to stir inside his sweats. 

“That depends…” you place the palms of your hands on his chest, then latch your mouth on the skin of his neck. He sucks in a breath, and you feel his Adam apple bobble. By now, his cock is fully hard in his underwear, pressing right on your clothed cunt, creating the perfect friction against your clit, and he grips your hips, keeping you in place. “If you’re thinking of your naked body on top of mine… then yes,” you breathe out, slowly grinding on the bulge in his sweats as you continue to suck on his neck. 

“Oh, I’m totally thinking of you, naked, under me…” Chan breathes heavily, one of his hands moving from your hips to grope one of your boobs. He squeezes his eyes shut, when you let your hand roam down his body - down, down, down, until it reaches the tent in his sweats. He sucks in a breath when you palm him over the fabric, and he squeezes your ass. “You- shit,” he curses under his breath when you grind on his erection, “you want that?”

You keep leaving kiss on his neck, running your tongue all over his soft skin, leaving open mouthed kisses as your hand is pressed against his chest. “You’re seriously asking if I want to have sex with you after I’ve been grinding on your dick for the past five minutes?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him and he chuckles, pulling you closer, and it’s his turn now to latch his mouth to your neck, and you gasp.

“Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page,” he breathes against your skin, then pulls you even closer, and you both moan at the friction his action causes. 

“Oh, we so are,” you kick your head slightly back when he sucks on that sensitive spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. His other hand, in the mean time, finds its way on one of your breasts. He chuckles when you let out a squeak. 

“Our first night in our home…” Chan mumbles while still leaving kisses on your neck, and you arch your back. “We should really do something about it, shouldn’t we?” 

“Mh-hm,” you hum in agreement, “You know what else you should do something about?” you wrap your fingers around his wrist. 

“What?” he places a kiss on your clavicle, right below the crook of you neck as he breathes in your familiar scent. 

You drag his hand all over your body, then allow his fingers to slip under the waistband of your sweats and your underwear, brushing your mound. He smiles and bites his lip as his fingers move to brush your entrance, but sucks in a breath once he feels how wet you are - panties completely soaked. “This.”

“Fucking hell,” he swears under his breath. “You’re so wet. How are you so wet? Fuck,” his eyes flutter shut as his fingers, damp with your arousal, circle your clit. You moan in response and let go of his wrist - he knows what to do. “You drive me fucking crazy, fuck. Sitting on my cock, acting all cute and stuff while you’re soaking your panties,” he mumbles, more to himself actually. 

Chan is good with his fingers. 

The first time he fingered you, you ended up cumming all over his digits only a couple of minutes later - and he hadn’t even touched your clit. He’s the one who introduced you to the wonders of the orgasm from penetration, making you cum and literally see stars just from rubbing your g-spot for seconds - which your ex never ever found in the first place, then around his dick. 

“Don’t make fun of me!” you pout, but are immediately cut off by two of Chan’ digits entering you, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingers filling you up. “Oh.”

“What’s that, hm? Cat got your tongue?” Chan teases you as he gives a slow pump of his fingers inside of you, hissing at the way your arousal coats them completely. He likes to act all cocky and stuff, but the both of you know that, the second he’s inside you, he’ll lose his mind. 

“Ass-“ you’re cut off by his fingers lifting your tank top, revealing your chest. Asshole,” you chuckle. “You know the effect your fingers have on me.”

“Just my fingers?”, he chuckles, before his lips close around one of your nipples. “What about my cock?”

He presses the pad of his thumb on your clit. You whimper, shaking your head. “All of you. All of you drives me crazy - the way you kiss me, the way you touch me, the way your eyes stare into mine when you make love to me- fuck.”

You hiss the last word when Chan bites your exposed shoulder and grunts. He keeps moving his fingers inside of you, at a much quicker pace, determined to make you cum, and it’s working, because you’re already so close. The pad of his thumb is brushing your clit with every slight movement of his fingers inside of you, and he smirks when he hears you let out a shaky breath - he knows your body well, maybe even better than you do. 

“Chan, I-“ you pant against his skin, one hand desperately gripping his tank top as your legs start to shake. 

“I know, love. You can let go, I’m right here,” he whispers in your ear, “I’m gonna take care of you.” 

Not just now, he’s always gonna take care of you. 

You release around his fingers with a muffled sob, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as a couple of swear words leave your mouth. Your orgasm washes all over you and Chan helps you ride it out, stopping the movements of his fingers inside of you only when he knows you can’t take it anymore - meanwhile, he presses soft kisses on your bare shoulder as you come down your high. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks you after he’s made sure your heartbeat has finally slowed down to a much more regular pace. You hum a faint “yes”, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, wet with your sweet release. 

He puts them near his mouth and you know what he’s about to do. He wraps his plump lips around his own fingers and swirls his tongue all over his digits, determined to lick them clean. He hums as soon as his tastebuds recognize your taste. “Always taste so sweet, love. Here,” he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and taps your lips with his pads. 

His digit taste of your release and Chan’s saliva mixed up. You hum too, and he watches you closely with full-blown pupils and parted lips how you suck on his fingers, which were previously in his mouth and, before that, deep inside your pussy. Chan loves it when you’re filthy, but tonight he’s in a whole other mood - it’s your first day in your new home after all, he wants it to be special.

It’s gonna be nothing but sweet lovemaking tonight.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” Chan asks you, sucking a bright pink mark on the sensitive skin of your clavicle.

To call it a bedroom would be a euphemism, considering there’s just your mattress inside the room, together with three of four boxes. Just your mattress. Placed on the ground, in the center of the empty room. The furniture is being delivered tomorrow, so tonight you’ll be sleeping like this, although your sixth sense is telling you that perhaps you won’t be sleeping at all tonight. The mattress looks funny with the sheets messily wedged in under it, but neither you nor Chan seem to care about the sheets right now, not with how eager the both of you are. 

Lying on a mattress that’s lying on the floor isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’ll work for tonight. Chan’s hands are immediately all over you, his lips on yours within seconds as soon as you both lie down on the bed, lips on your neck as his body is pressed on top of yours, your legs wrapped around his as his hard-on brushes your clothed cunt. 

“Chan…” you whine, the friction between your legs becoming unbearable - you need to feel him without any layer between your bodies. “Take these off,” you huff, tugging at his sweats. 

He kneels between your legs, and you quickly sit on the mattress to take off your tank top. Chan gasps at the sight of your naked boobs, even though he’s seen them many, many times. His tank top comes off, then his sweats and boxers are next. The second your gaze falls on his hard cock, all you want to do is wrap your lips around its tip, then take the rest of his length in your mouth and milk him dry - his balls look so full, and you want nothing more than to taste him. That may be a lie, though, because you also want him to cum inside of you… you just can’t chose with him. 

“Take off yours now, love? Show me that pretty pussy?”

You slide your own sweats down the curve of your ass too, together with your damp underwear, and Chan bites his lips at the sight of the wet patch on your panties, even though it shouldn’t surprise him, since he was the one who made you cum before. 

“How do you want me?” You whisper to him, and he swears he felt a shiver run down his spine - you’re just so hot, and he loves you so much. 

“Just like this, fuck, you’re so hot,“ Chan grunts as his eyes take in your naked figure sprawled in front of him, legs open wide to welcome his body between them. “Want to look at your pretty face when I make love to you, want to see your eyes roll in the back of your head when I stick my cock in you,” he grunts. 

It’s true, you do it every time - it’s hard not to, when the cock’s this good. 

“What are you waiting for, then? Put it in,” you smirk, biting your lip. 

Chan pumps his cock with his fist for a couple of seconds, smearing pre-cum all over his tip to make sure it doesn’t sting when he enters you, although you’re wet enough to take him. His veiny hand looks insanely good wrapped around himself, pumping his length with a familiarity and a confidence only he can have with his body. You don’t miss the way his balls tighten, looking heavy and full, and you’re ready to take all he has to give you. You want him to empty his load inside of you - mouth or pussy, you don’t really care. His cock looks harder than before, tip pink and angry, the vein that runs along the underside thick and pulsating. 

You gasp when he gets closer and aligns his cockhead at your entrance, brushing your swollen clit in the process. “You ready?” He asks you, and after you nod, he pushes inside. 

Just like he predicted, you roll your eyes in the back of your skill at the feeling of his cock finally stretching you out. He sinks inside of you at an incredibly slow pace that makes you shiver and gasp. “Fuck,” you moan. He intertwines his fingers with yours as he continues pushing inside. It feels big, hot and hard inside of you. “’s big,” you whine out of pleasure. 

Chan’s cock throbs inside of you as he pushes another inch inside. “Yeah?” Then chuckles when you nod. “You’re taking it so well, tho, love. Just a couple inches left, you’re doing so good,” he whimpers. 

When he finally bottoms out, you feel so full it almost hurts - every single one of the inches of his beautiful cock sheathed inside of you. Chan lets his body fall on top of yours, pressing his bare torso on your chest and placing his strong hands at each side of your head while he balances his weight on his elbows. “You alright?” He asks, kissing you on the corner of your lips. 

“Feel so full,” you gasp, and he smirks, pecking your lips. 

“Does it feel good?” He asks you, brushing your soft hair with his fingers. “Because you feel amazing around me, love,” he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. 

“So good, baby. So, so good,” you whimper, “You can move now.”

You don’t know how he does that, but Chan always manages to find the perfect angle when it comes to thrusting inside of you. He starts by pulling almost all the way out, arching his back a little and then sinking back inside of you. It’s his turn to roll his eyes in the back of his head now, when he feels your tight walls welcoming him, pulsating around his thick length. It’s a slow thrust - the first one. A thrust that allows him to test the waters, a thrust that makes the both of you shiver. 

You arch your back and pelvis, allowing him to sink even deeper inside of you. 

“My God, love, you feel so good around me,” Chan grunts, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, then repeats his previous movements with his hips once again. “So warm, so tight…”

His hips meet yours once more, and a shaky breath leaves your lips - the way he’s moving inside of you combined with the hot, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving on the skin of your neck are making you feel dizzy already. You wrap your arms around Chan’s torso, scratching his naked back with your fingernails - you hear him whimper and you bite your lips at his reaction, because you know just what to do to drive him crazy. 

“Wrap your legs around me, love,” Chan moans and you oblige, entangling your legs with his, pulling him closer than he already is until it feels like you’re melting at each other’s touch. 

His thrusts are slow, not rushed, reaching that deep spot inside of you that makes your toes curl and scratch his back a bit harder. His kisses burn on your skin, his swollen lips feel hot when he presses them on yours to muffle the sounds that escape his own lips - it’s the force of habit. For years the both of you had had to keep quiet in bed in order not to get caught by Chan’s or your roommates - now, though, you can be as loud and whiny as you want. That’s why you pull away from the kiss, then cup his face with your hands. He doesn’t stop moving inside of you. 

“I want to hear those pretty sounds you make,” you whisper on his lips. 

Chan is whiny. The softest whimpers fall from his lips as he moves inside of you, rocking his hips back and forth to meet your thrusts. It’s almost addicting, the way he sounds when he’s fucking you. He also grunts and groans, but it’s the soft cries he lets out every time he bottoms out inside of you that are your favorites, especially when he looks at you with those eyes. His chocolate brown eyes are fully blown, cheeks flustered and brows slightly furrowed as the pace of his thrusts increases. He’s getting close, and you are too. 

“Touch yourself, love,” Chan whispers on your lips, “‘M not gonna last much longer. Wanna cum together.”

You delicately push two digits in Chan’s mouth, and he sucks and licks them to get them wet enough - when you take them out, there’s a string of saliva that connects them to his lips, and it’s the hottest thing ever. You whine when your own fingers brush your clit, wet with Chan’s spit. Rubbing fast circles on your sensitive bud, you manage to get yourself off right before he finds his own release. 

“Look at me,” Chan whimpers, “Look at me when you cum, fuck.” 

You do exactly that, and when he feels you clenching around him, he finds his own release much quicker than he thought he would. Chan looks beautiful when he cums. Eyes rolled in the back of his skull, swollen lips parted as he releases the sweetest sounds, Adam’s apple bobbing as he shoots his load inside of you. 

“Fuck, love, there’s so much cum. ‘M cumming so much, fuck,” he curses under his breath as he keeps on releasing and releasing, filling you up to the brim until it starts to spill out of you, wetting the sheets. 

You place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he crashes his lips onto yours as he continues to ride out his orgasm as you play with his soft curls. Eventually, with a sigh, his body collapses on top of yours and he hides his face in your cleavage, chest rising and falling quickly. 

“Chan, baby,” you call his name after a while, “Can you hand me a towel?”

He nods, but as he kneels between your legs he realizes something. “Shit, they’re still inside the boxes, love.”

You smile at him. “It’s fine. It just means we’ll have our first shower in our new home.”

Chan smiles at you too. When you sit on the mattress, the action causes his seed to eventually drip from your hole, and when you look down, you find out the sheets are completely drenched in Chan’s cum. 

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, guilty, “maybe we should do our first laundry, too.”

🏡

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 - “𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧” 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

[violetsiren90]

Make Me

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut; platonic(?) fluff; BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom (and such a good one); MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play if you squint; mentions of wet dreams and sexual fantasies; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling in a domination context; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace but also the absolute best; Hobi in the studio 👀; wrestling (sexual context); spanking (sexual context); p*ssy-stepping; p*ssy slapping; sexual frustration; some initial shame and embarrassment (reader needs to work some things out); reader tries to run away from herself a bit; temporary ghosting; working through new desires and feelings; dirty dancing; ALL the communication; establishment of sexual roles/partnership; talk about birth control and protection; Hobi curses a LOT during domination scenes; leash/collar play; oral sex (male receiving); throat fucking; Hobi slaps Reader's tongue with his c*ck; cum swallowing; aftercare; restraint play (sex swing, heehee 😈); manual clitoral stimulation; teasing; unprotected vaginal sex (reader is on birth control & previously consents); female orgasm from vaginal penetration; very brief implication of a possible brush with subspace.

Word Count: ~16,000 (Double its originally intended length, oops 🙈)

Author's note: HOLY HECK IT'S FINALLY HERE. When I say I had the time of my life writing this...like, wow. I was already under Hobi's spell, but now I am OFFICIALLY down in the worst way. This fic and it's premise were completely out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't be happier that I ventured into this world, because the research alone has given me so much respect for the BDSM community, and specifically the dom/sub relationship. I hope I did as much justice to that very special dynamic as possible between these two characters (with whom I have deeply fallen in love). If you read this, I hope so very much that you enjoy it!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Acknowledgements: The biggest of thanks to @orchidyoonkook who not only beta-read this fic multiple times, and is practically the voice of this Jimin, but also gave me so much wonderful insight into the BDSM communicty from that big sexy brain of hers (which contains an incredible amount of knowledge about so many things, let me tell you!). But most of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to get this out of my imagination and onto the page, even when I was doubting myself the most. Yoons, I love you! Couldn't have done it without you. 💕

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

     You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

     "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

     The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

     "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

     Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

     You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

     "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

     He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

     "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

     At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. 

You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

     Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down.

It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

     "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

     "I told him…

“What?”

“I said..."

     "What?"

     "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

     You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. 

You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. 

Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? 

That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. 

Shit.

     "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

     He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

     "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

     You don't answer him. You can't.

Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his gray sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

     "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

     He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bear.

     "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

     He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

     "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

     "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

     You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

     "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

     "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

     But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

     "When you're a filthy, pathetic little slut."

     A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together – whether to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure. When he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes flutter frantically open. 

     "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?"

Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long – something that yearns to feed.

     You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

     "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. 

His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want – your friend. 

Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

     "Y-yes! Yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

     So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body.

You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

     "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his saccharine words.

     You blink, your mind running up against the sudden pet name – one that he has never uttered in a tone like this before – as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

     "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

     "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever – okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

     You nod.

     "Say it for me," he whispers, and you shiver again. Fuck.

     "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

     "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

     You scramble to find your voice.

     "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

     He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

     "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

     He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

     "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

  He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

     "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

     "No, Hobi," you whisper. 

And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

     "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

     You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and absolutely exhilarating.

When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want.

You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

     "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

     "Make me."

     His eyes go wide and wild.

     "So that's how it's gonna be?"

     The words are heavy and dark, but you think his mouth twitches up at the corner when you arch a recalcitrant brow in response.

     He hums and licks his lips, and you're on the verge of saying something about getting on with it when his hand darts out and fists a chunk of your hair, yanking it back with a force that makes your head spin. He's glaring down at you with eyes so hard and menacing that your rebuttal dies on your tongue. The hand at your nape squeezes and the pressure that seers your scalp is exquisite, spilling a moan from your lips as your arousal becomes more than you are capable of repressing.

     "Don't you challenge me, brat," he rumbles from low in his chest as his hand twists against your head and lowers your back to press against the black leather.

     You whine in protest, and your palms fly up to shove at him, but his reflexes are like lightning as he snatches your wrists away to pin them above you. Your head spins, eyes losing focus as your whole body flushes with warmth in the wake of his domineering aggression. 

     You wriggle in his hold, relishing in how his grip tightens and the cold steel in his eyes glints as you resist him.

     A knee slides between your legs as he leans over you menacingly, close enough for the padlock charm around his neck to lightly tap your raised chin. Good girl, it seems to whisper in Hoseok's voice, stay put.

     Yeah, fuck that.

     You snatch the necklace up between your teeth and yank it to the side where it bites sharply into the corner of your mouth.

     The sudden motion catches him off guard and he falters, crashing down on top of you with a noise of surprise and losing control of your hands.

     You scramble against him, rolling both of you to the floor with a thud.

     Your heart is hammering in your chest.

     You hear him grunt, his strong hands grappling with your thrashing form, and you catch just a glimpse of his shining eyes and white clenched teeth as he flips you over onto your stomach, hands in a vice grip at the small of your back and your cheek pressing into the cold, hard laminate.

     You start to move again but he pushes his weight into the slender fingers splayed over your spine with a low rumble in the back of his throat and you still with a groan.

     You're pressed so deliciously firmly to the floor. You can feel arousal soaking your panties as your nerves alight everywhere he has wrested control of you. You can hear him pant, proof of his efforts, and the image of his provoked expression from seconds previous flashes through your mind.

He seemed so cool and collected before. So unbothered. To think that his blood is up and because of you? You let out a trembling breath.

     "Fuck," he hisses lowly, then bends to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

They're soft as they drag over your skin there, feather light. Your whole body shakes, and you feel his mouth pause.

     "I don't know who the hell you think you are," he whispers cruelly, "But you were right about one thing...you're not a good girl. You're a disobedient little harlot who needs to be taught the rules of this house." 

      You whimper pathetically as he presses into you even more intensely, restricting the expansion of your lungs.

     "Now," he says nosing at your exposed neck as he begins to pull away, "how about we teach you a lesson or two, hm?"

     You feel his weight leave your back, and see his figure rock back on his heels out of the corner of your eye. You are just on the verge of retaliating again when you let out a yelp at the sudden shock of your hips being yanked upward by the back belt loop of your denim shorts. Hoseok lets go of your hands and they fly forward to brace yourself as your ass raises into the air and your knees move toward your chest.

     And all at once you know what's coming and you feel your pussy clench in the mere anticipation of -

     Smack!

     You let out a wanton wail as the sharp crack of his hand against your right glute jolts through your body like a lightning strike and ends with a slam at your swollen clit.

     Again - harder! Your mind screams. So you press out a whinging moan of complaint.

     SMACK!

     It has the desired effect.

     CRACK!

     Your jaw is slack, but no sound escapes as he punishes you. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. As if he's attempting to brand your ass with the shape of his hand. But holy hell is it making you drip. Every slap jolts your body and brings the tiniest friction to where you're neediest. Where you've never been needier in your life.

     Please punish my pussy....

     You try to mumble the words but all you can do is drool onto the floor as he deals out pleasure and pain from above.

     And then he stops. You feel hands deftly and swiftly rolling you to lie on your back.

You blink up through bleary eyes, drawing a hand across your mouth to wipe the spit away. Your shoulders are sore.

     He's leaning over you, a hand still on your hip, eyes scanning your face.

     "What? Did you say something? You need to speak up."

     His tone is still biting but his eyes seem to hold a genuine question. Concern.

     Warmth floods your chest as it registers that he wants to be able to hear you if you need him to. If you want to stop. But the light has never been so goddamned green.

     "Want..." you murmur, "...more, Hoseok."

     He curses, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he leans forward to take your jaw in his hand again. He rakes his gaze over your soft, swollen features, unfocused eyes, and heaving chest.

     "Look at you so fucked out and all I did was smack that gorgeous ass." 

     He licks his lips, shaking his head in seeming disbelief as he releases your chin with a little shove. He leans back, dragging his hands over your bare thighs.

    "More, hm?" he hums. 

     You nod eagerly.

     He purses his lips and considers you through narrowed eyes, and you sense that if you want him to give you what you so desperately desire, you're going to have to show him you can take it - and take orders. You lay still, hands twitching at your sides as you look up at him through wide eyes. 

     He continues to run his fingertips up and down your legs as he breathes out a long relenting sigh.

     "Alright," he relents, "You took your punishment well, so you should be rewarded, I suppose."

     You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart rate rising again at the prospect.

     He tilts forward, looming over you again as he asks the question you've been dying to answer since you woke up breathless all those weeks ago.

     "What does my little brat want me to do to her? Let's see if she can use her words."

     You blink up at him, unsure if you have permission to speak...or how to put your request into words that won't make you want to immediately melt through the floorboards.

     "Cat got your tongue?" Hoseok sneers, pretty, heart-shaped lips curling up at one side.

     His hat discarded in your tussle, wavy brown tresses hang down over his brow and his eyes sparkle darkly through them. His features are so beautiful - their loveliness thrown into sharp relief by the flinty pitilessness of their expression.

     You're tempted to continue simply soaking him in, if not for the pounding ache in your core demanding that you find your voice.

     "I...I want..." your lips tremble as you will yourself to tell him what you need.

     Perhaps he senses that you require a little encouragement, because his eyes harden and he digs the edges of his nails into the flesh of your knees, causing you to yelp and moan and then...

     "I want you to step on my pussy! Please..." You press out your request with the last of the breath in your lungs.         

     Hoseok's eyes flutter shut at the last word of your plea.

     "Say that again," he commands in a husky whisper, and even without further specification, somehow, you know.     

     "Please..." You groan, letting your legs drop open demurely.

     His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the action with his hands, which have now slipped just inside your knees to your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose, before exhaling with a shuddering breath. When his lids languidly raise again the piercing onyx of what they have unveiled is pinning you to the floor with more deadly force than even his hands ever could. Your pulse pounds in your cunt, your head still swimming from your previous position as he pushes himself up to stand. 

     As you blink up at Hoseok towering over you, standing between your splayed thighs with his midnight gaze boring into the damp denim covering your heat, something inside you long ajar quietly but firmly clicks into place. 

     "Tell me, brat" he seethes, eyes roving your trembling form stretched out beneath him, "Who makes the rules in this house?"

     "Hoseok-ssi," you whimper, so needy the ache is beginning to hurt.

     Every cell of your body is awake with a desperate anticipation that only he can satisfy...or deny.

     You have never felt more alive.

     And then something happens and your brain shuts off entirely. 

Everything vanishes: the studio, the traffic outside the western window, the city of Seoul and South Korea and the whole goddamned planet rolling around in the Milky Way. Nothing exists except the tip of Hoseok's Air Jordan ghosting over the swell of your crotch. 

     Your mouth waters as his foot slowly slides forward, then goes completely dry as you feel it settle with the sole aligned directly with your slit. His eyes flick up to your face, but you can't hold his gaze for more than a millisecond as he begins to apply pressure to your mound.

     Your eyes roll back in your skull, head lolling as your neck goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream as the man above you presses down with a low hum over your sex. The seam of your shorts is biting deliciously into the tender flesh of your clit, sending shockwaves through your core like a live wire, and when he rolls his foot in a circular motion you think you see god. 

You do scream then, but it's nothing more than a strangled sound in your throat as your fantasies materialize and he leans his weight into his stance, punishing the soft fat of your cunt with the sole of his shoe.

     You're going to cum. He's barely touched you and you're going to cum. He seems to see it in the twisted ecstasy of your features as his lids hood his eyes and filth begins to spill from his lips.

     "Do you like that, brat?" he taunts, "That's what you get when you're a good little girl for Hoseok -  you get your pretty wet cun-"  

     Click jangle clack - boom boom boom! 

     Hobi springs away from you, hopping back on one foot with wide eyes as a succession of rapid knocks follow the stilted motions of the locked door handle. You scramble up from the floor, heart pounding and breath coming fast as you toss yourself into the corner of the couch. 

     Boom, boom, boom!

     "Hyung, are you naked or something?" comes a familiar if muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

     You fumble for your phone and Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before pulling open the door.

     The man belonging to the impatient knocks and muffled accusations stumbles headlong into the studio, the locked entrance against which he had pressed his ear and most of his weight having been pulled out from under him.

"Jimi...nie...?" Hobi greets his bandmate and his eyes track the other's toppling form with surprise and a hint of agitation. 

     Yoongi ambles in casually behind him, sipping a dewy americano through a straw, a beanie sitting atop his ashy locks gnomishly.

     Jimin nimbly pushes himself to a stand from where he had crashed against Hobi's desk, not a strand of his coiffed platinum blond hair askew as he spins around face to the dance captain. But before he can get out a greeting or an excuse for his manner of entrance he freezes as he spots you in the corner.

His eyes flick to Hobi's hat on the floor, then to the pink flush on the apples of his friend's cheeks. When Jimin's eyes slide back over to where you are curled into your nook, eyeing him warily over the tiny shield of your phone, his plush lips slowly spread into a sickeningly devious smile.

     Hobi scoops his hat up off the floor and tugs in back on before taking a seat, carefully, you notice - thighs pressed together and leaning forward - in his rolling chair. The implication of his posture has you sweating into your shirt.

You need to get it the fuck together.

     "If I would have known you were here I'd have brought you a kimbap," Jimin says, wicked grin still plastered on his face as he holds up a plastic convenience store bag.

     You blink. 

     "Oh, uh, that's okay..." you bluster, waving your hand. "I'm not hungry anyway." 

     It's true. You just lost your appetite for the foreseeable future, stomach a raging sea of nerves as Jimin places the bag on the desk.

     Yoongi shuffles over to sit at the other end of the couch, raising his free hand and drawing his mouth into a straight line in greeting. You manage your own tight-lipped grin and flash him a peace sign, hoping you did it quickly enough that the tremor in your hand went unnoticed.

     "To what do I owe this visit from my bros?" Hobi asks from where he's turned toward his computer screen to save the neglected file. 

His voice is cheerful, but you can hear the strain - how it's pitched just half a tone too high - and Jimin's eyes are still on you.

     "I dragged Yoongi hyung out for some fresh air. I took him to lunch and grabbed you a snack on the way back."

     "Yah, you took me to lunch? Then why did I pay?" Yoongi grumbles from beside you, his bare features pinched into a grumpy pout that makes him look particularly feline.

     "Because you love me," Jimin coos at him and the older musician's mouth quirks up into a smile he can't seem to repress. 

     "What are you working on, Hoba? Which track?" Yoongi murmurs around the straw between his lips, blinking patiently as Hobi seems to shake himself, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before readjusting it on his head and swiveling back toward his computer screen.

     He hits play on the track and Yoongi leaves the couch to join the other two.

     This is all so normal, so typical of the guys - the affectionate repartee and chat about ongoing projects. And on an average day, you'd have joined right in. 

But today is not an average day. 

No.

Five minutes ago, you were spread-eagle on the floor six inches from where Jimin stands, with Hoseok's shoe on your bits.

     You have to get out of here.

     "I'm, uh, I'm gonna head out, boys," you muster, making a beeline for the door as soon as the inertia of your decision gives you the courage to peel yourself from the corner of the couch.

     "You're leaving?" Jimin's voice quips in a saccharine whine, with the slightest edge that makes you avoid his eyes as you slip out with a parting wave.

You do catch Hoseok's expression, whose head snaps up at your parting movements. His brows furrow and his lips part, looking as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

     And then you're gone.

    Your smart watch trills as your heart rate enters cardio territory. Your chest is heaving, breath coming heavy as the pliant cushion of your couch gives way to the crown of your head pressing back into it, eyes pinched shut and hand shoved down your pants. 

The bullet vibrator you have pressed to your clit is doing everything it should, and you feel it coming - your orgasm. 6:12pm on a Tuesday and it's already your third self-love session of the day. 

You tense your thighs, urging the building pressure in your core to boil over, and quickly. You groan and grit your teeth as your administering hand starts to shake. You writhe and whimper for a moment. And then it's over.

     You stare up at the ceiling of your apartment, breathlessly huffing out a despondent sigh as the empty ache in your chest returns. It has become your loathsomely devoted companion in every waking moment over the last ten days, filling you with an unshakable restlessness and sickly discontent.

     Nothing can slake it. Not reality TV. Not Cabernet Sauvignon. Not overtime hours. Not ASMR wood-soup videos. Not yoga. Not Ben and Jerry's. Not midnight runs on your NordicTrack. Not fucking yourself to climax on every single goddamned toy you own. 

     The little monster you roused the weekend before last in Hope World hasn't returned to sleep. No. She is wide awake. And she seems to grow more ravenous with each passing day. 

At first you tried to ignore her, but she kept you up into the long, bleak hours of the night. And so, in a fuzzy, staticky haze some time after midnight a number of days ago you typed some words into a search engine that would probably have your assigned FBI agent doing a spit-take.

     The thing is, you'd never seen "50 Shades of Grey", you'd never been interested. It wasn't as if you were a prude - hardly! You have always enjoyed sex, both intimate and recreational. In fact, it has always been one of your favored methods of blowing off steam, and you knew quite well how to please yourself and how to guide partners in doing the same.

     You have never had problems in taking what you wanted in life, in taking charge and ensuring that things play out your way – it's what makes you so good at your job, and valued by your peers who know that they can rely on you to take the reins and rise to the occasion.

     So when you suddenly stumbled unprepared into the world of BDSM, your visceral reaction to the concept of submission left you wondering...why?

Why, why, why? 

Why does this do it for you? Why did your very linear, stable existence have to be completely disrupted by this discovery? And most urgently of all, why, for the love of everything sacred, did all the porn in the whole wide world fail to accomplish even a fraction of the effect of Jung Hoseok's size 9 sneaker? It's all too overwhelming to process.

     You let out a frustrated whine as you pull your sticky, cramped hand, still clutching the little purple bullet, from the confines of your pants. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you can see the notification is from Jimin. You've been ignoring his calls and pleading texts to meet up, or just pick up. You can't face him. Not after ghosting Hobi.

     You feel a pang twist in your stomach as you haul yourself toward the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the guilt you feel for ignoring Hoseok outright. He texted you almost immediately after you left the studio, asking if you were alright. You let him know that you were, with just one word: yeah.

     You had typed and retyped that response. "Yeah, thanks" seemed too weird. Like, thanks for what? Almost making you cum with the tip of his shoe? No. "Yeah, sorry" felt pathetic. What were you apologizing for? It seemed to imply...regret? Or fault. Neither of which would have come from a genuine place. And beyond a simple affirmation, you certainly didn't have words. So, "yeah" it was. He tried to call you later that evening, but you didn't pick up. You were already way up in your head by then. It had been radio silence since.

     You toss a coconut steamer onto the wet shower tiles and sigh, catching a glimpse of your face in the bathroom mirror as you slide the glass door shut.

     "Coward," you mutter as you close your eyes and slip under the cleansing stream.

     You're wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and sipping a cup of sleepy-time tea, trying to distract yourself from the messy tangle of emotions waging war across your various chakras with season two of Single's Inferno, when a knock on the door startles you out of your simmering reverie. You heave yourself off the carpeted floor of your living room and scoot toward the door like a fleecy Jabba the Hutt to peek through the peephole.

     Your vision is obscured as another eye looks back at you from the other side of the concave glass. You jump back, dropping your blanket shroud in a pile around your feet and let out a yelp of alarm. You slam a hand over the peep hole as giggles erupt on the other side.

     "Yah! I know you're in there - so let me in!"

     Your entire body sags against the door in relief as you recognize the voice of the would-be intruder. You swing the door open to grant him exasperated entrance.

     "Park Jimin, you just took ten years off my life! Creep," you bluster, gathering the blanket up around your body as you retreat back into your apartment. 

You plop down again in front of the TV, knowing that Jimin came to either talk you into going out or to just talk, and either way, you are truly not in the mood. Your friend snickers behind you, sauntering into your kitchen. He returns with a beer, bringing the frosty green bottle to his lips before sinking into an armchair and regarding you with an expression that waivers between amusement, pity, and disgust.

     "You look awful," he remarks, taking another swig as his gaze roves your unkempt appearance.

     Your features twist into a frown, eyes never leaving the television.

     "You don't get to barge into my apartment, steal my booze, then insult me, Park," you snip, burrowing further down into the fluffy mass encasing your body.

     Jimin raises a brow, a small smile still playing on his lips as he follows your eyes to the television where YouTuber Dex and professional model Lim Minsu flirtatiously splash about in a ridiculously opulent indoor swimming pool.

     "Fuck, Dex is hot," Jimin mutters.

     "For some reason he reminds me of Jungkook," you smirk, glancing over at him for the first time since he arrived.

     He grimaces theatrically.

     "I don't see it."

     The contestant on the screen flashes his Paradise companion a blinding smile and raises a tattooed arm to cut through the water, content to show off his stroke precision as his date watches on. The resolve on Jimin's face falters .

     "Yeah, well...Dex is hotter."

     You scoff.

     "Yeah, no. Kook-ah is definitely hotter."

     "For the love of god, just don't tell him that, okay?" Jimin pleads, "That kid is insufferable enough these days."

     "You love him."

     He hides a smile behind another sip of Hite.

     "Why did you ghost Hobi hyung?"

     Jimin blinks innocent eyes at you, as if he hasn't just dumped the last week and a half of silent agony over your head like a bucket of ice water. But the chill is momentary, because the next second your body feels like an oven. You stammer.

     "I-I...ghost him? I didn't ghost anyone...I'm busy...I..." you trail off weakly as your friend's unimpressed and knowing gaze bores into your soul.

     You sigh and scrub your hands over your face.

     "Because I'm a big chicken, okay?" You murmur into your palms.

     You don't know why, but you feel like crying. When you pull your hands away from your face, Jimin must see it because suddenly he's on the couch wrapping you in the kind of hug that reminds you why he's your ride-or-die, and in the safety of his embrace the tears begin to fall. Days of being alone with yourself and your conflicted feelings pour from your ducts and onto the front of Jimin's bright yellow flannel. He coos words of reassurance, admonishing your tears, as he strokes your hair.

     "Talk to me, you silly goose," he hums with an endeared chuckle. 

     You sniff and hiccup as you pull away, wiping your puffy eyes.

     "I don't even know what to say, Minnie...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

     Jimin smiles and grabs a few tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing them against your nose.

     "Well, first of all, nothing is wrong with you. But second of all, tell me what is bothering you."

     You heave a dramatic sigh.

     "If I tell you, you have to swear - and I mean swear - that you will not make fun of me or tell anyone else. And I mean not Taehyung, not Yoongi, not anyone, you hear me?" 

     He smirks, but nods in assent. You narrow your eyes at him.

     "Say it. Out loud." You demand warily.

     Jimin rolls his eyes and throws up his hands.

     "Yah! Okay! I won't tell anyone," he quips mockingly.

     You sigh again and draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. If this gets too hard to talk about with eye-contact at least you'll have a place to hide your bashful face.

      "I..." you start softly, not sure where to begin except the beginning, "Re-remember that thing I told you when we got plastered a little while back...about...Hobi?"

     Jimin's lips quirk at the corners as he nods.

     "Well...the thing is...wait!" You cut yourself off, suddenly gripped by a notion that has you prematurely flustered and indignant. "What did he tell you?"

     Jimin shakes his head, a small smile still playing on his full lips.

     "Nothing," he responds, looking you dead in the eye in a way that has you almost believing he's telling the truth. 

     "No, really," you press.

     Jimin leans back against the arm of the couch from where he faces you, running a hand through his hair and drawing his legs up to criss-cross in front of him.

     "Jagi, this is Hobi hyung we're talking about. You think he would do that? He has too much respect for you. He would never. Not to anyone. Not even me."

     Your chest floods with relief, affection, and regret. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't. He was too mature of a person for that. Too considerate. Too lovely. And you hadn't even had the gumption to speak to him for the last ten days beyond a mono-syllabic SMS. Jimin watches your expression do emotional acrobatics.

     "So..." he offers encouragingly, "something...happened....between you guys, right? That day Yoongi hyung and I showed up? We...uh...interrupted something, didn't we?" He can't help a devilish smile, eyes twinkling as he carefully phrases his query.

     You bury your face into your knees and squeak out an affirmation. Jimin lets out a bright laugh and you immediately raise your burning face in a scowl.

     "Hey! You said you wouldn't-" 

     He waves his hands in apology as he attempts to gain his composure.

     "Mianhae, mianhae! I'm not laughing at you!" He insists, leaning forward to grab your swatting hands by the wrists.

     "Sounds kind of like you are!" You huff, yanking your arms from his grasp.

     "So..." Jimin hums, tilting his head to track your gaze as you try again to hide your face, "If he's down, and you're down...what's the problem? Why did you run and hide? Did your feelings change?"

     You slowly raise your eyes to his, searching them as you decide just how much you're willing to tell him right now. You chew on your bottom lip as you realize you need to get it out. All of it. You drop your legs to mirror Jimin's posture, lowering your defenses with your millionth-and-first sigh of the evening.

     "Okay...well..." you muse, fiddling with the blanket still draped over your lap. "You know how I told you that stuff that I...dreamt...about Hobi?"

     Jimin nods.

     "Well...something did kind of happen...and well..." you trail off as Jimin raises his brows expectantly.

     "Oh, fuck it!" you bluster, exhausted by your own attempts at delicacy. "He dominated me and I liked it. I really really liked it, okay? And it freaked. me. the fuck. out. Like...I've neeeeever felt that way before about fooling around. It wasn't just fun, or, like, pleasurable...it was...almost..." you search for the words as Jimin stares at you raptly. "...Freeing? Like, a relief. Like, a 'where has this shit been all my life' moment."

     Jimin hums and nods, interlacing his fingers and leaning his chin against his knuckles.

     "Like...I don't know...I'm a very independent person. And capable. And, yeah, things have been crazy stressful at work, and I have a lot on my plate...but I handle it, you know? In fact, I don't just handle it, I kind of...enjoy the pressure of leadership and responsibility? It drives me. I've always been like that, in every area of my life..." 

     Jimin smiles and lets out a sound of recognition.

     "So the one who wears the crown is wondering why it feels so good to be...subjected?" He waggles his brows. You roll your eyes.

     "Grow up, dude."

     "Am I right, though? I'm right."

     You find yourself chewing your bottom lip again.

     "Essentially. I like power. I like control. What is this sudden obsession with losing it? It's...scary. And confusing."

     Jimin smiles. 

     "You know, it's actually not that uncommon, from what I understand," he states, reaching for his abandoned beer on the coffee table.

     You quirk an eyebrow.

    "I mean, everyone is different, and this is a journey you're going to have to take for yourself to get the answers, but from what I know about the BDSM community, it's not unusual for people who are in positions of power to crave a bit of a...reprieve."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah," he nods, reclining back again against the arm of the couch, "The bedroom is a good place to let your walls down. Maybe the only place, for some people. And with a trusted partner it can even be healing to play a different role than you do in other parts of your life."

     It's your turn to smirk.

     "You talk as if you know," you prod playfully, shoving your toes into his shin. He smiles that wicked smile of his and you laugh.

     "What I'm trying to say is, maybe it's not just about the...dynamics. Maybe it's also that it's Hobi hyung. He knows you. You know him, too. You trust each other. Maybe you could get to know each other in a new way. Be something for each other that you both need." He takes the last sip of his beer and twirls the bottle in his hands, gazing at you with a gentle thoughtfulness.

     You nod slowly, digesting his newly offered perspective.

     "So," you muse, raising your eyes to him again, "You think he needs it too?" 

     Jimin shrugs. 

     "Only he could tell you that for sure. But I do know this, he's awfully good at being bossy, and doesn't get a lot of opportunity to run the show - outside of dance practice, that is."

     Chuckling nervously at the thought, you try your best to conceal the spark that has crackled to life from the burning coals inside you at the mention of his natural command of authority. 

     "Hey," Jimin posits with a grin, "Maybe if he's spanking you he'll go a little easier on us when we screw up the choreo..."

     "EXCUSE ME THE FU-WHAT?!" You shriek, snatching up a throw pillow to beat him mercilessly as he falls in raucous laughter to the floor.

     Turning to glance over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, you smooth your hands over the back of the svelte black bodycon number you've donned for the evening. You're a vision in monochrome, having paired your LBD with sleek stilettos and dark smokey eyes with heavy lashes.

     Your phone buzzes, indicating that your ride share is close by. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you reach for the finishing touch to your outfit: a velvety black choker with a sliver o-ring studded in colorless topaz. It's just fashionable enough to still look like a necklace, but it gives you a bit of a thrill to know that it's not. To know what's tucked inside your purse to accompany it. To wonder if, going unnoticed by most, it will catch a certain pair of dark eyes.

     The drive across town to reach the Jihope residence never felt so long. You try your best to calm your nerves over the last few blocks of distance - it’s just a party, after all, and kind of a silly one at that. 

During Jimin's last visit, he mentioned that he and Hobi would be throwing a Black Day party for all of their single friends the following weekend, and after dodging his attempts at socialization so religiously of late, you felt you owed it to him to attend.     

     Black Day had never been something your group of friends had ever observed before, but it was incredibly chic to do so this year, for whatever reason. And of course, all the organizing duo of the soiree needed was the slightest excuse for Jimin to party and Hobi to host.

     Upon arriving at the building, you can already hear the music pumping from the top floor, and the chatter of guests spilling out onto the terrace. You present your ID to the security guard at the front gate, and are escorted to a private elevator that whisks you up to the penthouse. Being quite successful and comfortable yourself, you still find yourself surprised when reminded of the sheer net worth of your humble, down-to-earth Bangtan pals. Hobi is worth the most, and while he is an excellent investor and a generous philanthropist, he also likes to show out, and in style.

     You take a deep breath as you buzz the bell.

     The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a black t-shirt tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, his fluffy brown hair parted in the middle and his ears glinting with rows of silver hoops. His round eyes scrunch into little moons and he flashes an adorable toothy grin, endearingly lopsided where it stretches deeper against the little orbital piercing at the right side of his bottom lip.

“Noona!" he growls, pulling you into a bear hug. "Where have you been? The last two times we went to noraebang there was no one to sing Through the Night with me!"   

     "Ah...hah...", you nervously chuckle, pulling away from his embrace as you search your brain for an excuse other than business.

     "I'll sing with you, Googie!"  

     You turn to see your salvation from further explanation in the form of a giggling young woman bouncing up to clutch Jungkook's arm and steady herself as she sways on her platform heels. She smells like soju and fruity perfume.

     You smirk and thank her, patting her hand where it clutches your friend's tattooed forearm before she's dragging him away down the hall.

     "Make sure she stays hydrated!" You call after him with a shake of your head, making your way through the throng of guests to the bar area. 

     The furnishings of the residence are a study in classy postmodern minimalism, punctuated with abstract urban art – though you notice that some of the Kaws pieces are missing, likely stored away for safekeeping from rowdy party-goers. 

     The sleek chrome and granite full-service bar is stocked with liquor and beer, and a commissioned mixologist is crafting darkly colored cocktails. A buffet-style spread offers the traditional jjajangmyeon and an assortment of other delicious eats.

     The spacious dining area is littered with small tables draped in black linens, each bearing centerpieces of hellebore, leather leaf, black carnations, and eucalyptus. The living room has been converted to a dance floor, complete with a glittering disco ball. House music booms through the built-in speaker system as guests in groups and pairs move to the beat.

     You glance over a drink menu of themed cocktails as a voice sounds from over your shoulder. 

     "I recommend the Down With Love."

     Turning, you flash the speaker a grin.

     "Alright, but is it giving Judy or Barbara?"

     Taehyung raises a disparaging brow.

     "It's a gimlet. Judy, obviously."

     You chuckle, putting in your order for the suggested beverage.

     "You look good," he remarks, gesturing at you with the unlit cigarette tucked between his first two fingers, his other hand slipped into his pocket as he leans against the wall.

     He doesn't look bad himself, you think, in his black satin top and flared Merlot trousers.

     "Thanks," you smile as the bartender hands over an inky concoction garnished with a grapefruit slice twisted into the shape of a heart and run through with a toothpick.

     You eye it skeptically.

     "How do they make it black?"

     "Activated charcoal. C'mon."

     Tae links your arm through his and weaves through the bustle to a table of familiar faces. Yoongi raises a whiskey tumbler in greeting and you clink your glass with his, sliding into a chair next to Taehyung and reaching over to give Namjoon's arm an affectionate squeeze. It seems that all the members have turned up, save Seokjin, who's been a taken man three years strong.

     You fall into easy conversation with the boys, and just when your difference of opinion with Namjoon over Lee Bul's latest installation piece is developing into a full-blown debate, Jimin slides up to the table and spills onto Taehyung's lap.

     "None of you are dancing!" He whines breathlessly, poking Tae's cheek as the other man smiles shyly.

     "Jungkook is," Yoongi rebuts, taking another bite of jjajangmyeon.

     He's not wrong, though to your amusement, the maknae appears to be getting danced on more than anything else.

    "Where's Hobi hyung?" Tae queries, prodding gently at Jimin's full cheek in return.

     Jimin's eyes dart to you, a smirk spreading slowly across his lips as his gaze rakes up from your heels to the choker around your neck.

     "Good question," he hums, rising to take your hand and pull you up from your seat. "Let's go find him."

     Jimin heads for the French doors at the far end of space that lead onto the terrace. They're propped open, and cool evening air floods the apartment, keeping the atmosphere from suffocating under the warmth of body heat and the scent of rich food.

     "Jimin!" You hiss, as you approach the rooftop patio, "What are you doing? This is the opposite of subtle!"

    He laughs merrily.

     "You're so cute when you're flustered!"

     You don't have any more time to grumble as you emerge under the darkening sky, just beginning to speckle with stars barely visible against the glow of string lights wrapped around the cozy outdoor enclosure. There's a small electric fire pit surrounded by plush patio furniture, and live greenery all around.

     The energy is much more relaxed than within, but even so, you feel your pulse quicken as Jimin guides you toward a small group at the corner of the terrace. You recognize a few of the men and women gathered as industry producers, but none of that really matters because all your brain can register is him.

     And holy shit does he look good.

     He's arresting sophistication and effortless elegance. A silk charcoal dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, ripples along the lines of his torso - save where the top three buttons have been neglected to expose the smooth planes of his toned chest. His lean, athletic legs seem even longer than usual in fitted black slacks, his pretty wrists and fingers sparkling with jewelry where his thumbs are slipped into his pockets. His hair has been slicked back from his face, and his eyes are just barely obscured by a pair of lightly tinted wire-rimmed aviators. That brilliant, warm heart-shaped smile cuts through all the sharp darkness of his garb, and your breath catches in your chest when Jimin calls out to him.

     "Hyung!"

     As Hoseok's eyes meet yours the grin stretched across his face falters, but he quickly regains composure.

     "Eyyy," he greets you, striding forward and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. Of course he smells as incredible as he looks.

     "Hi, Hobi," you murmur a bit shyly, returning his embrace.

     "Hyung," Jimin pouts cutely, "Save us! She was putting our guests to sleep talking to Namjoon-ah about art theory."

     "Hey," Hobi chides in a warning tone, cocking his head to the side to glance down at you. "Don't enable the poor guy – he needs to get laid."

     "Well nobody is going to approach him if she's hanging around looking like that." Jimin gestures casually, a mischievous twinkle glinting for a moment his eye.

     Hobi's arm slips off your shoulders to grasp your hand as he steps back. He's never been good at keeping his feelings from his face, and the look trained on his features as he appraises you has you thinking you made the right decision when you put on that dress.

     "How about we keep you out of trouble and on the dance floor, hm?" Hobi says with a sly smile, raising your hand and tilting forward in a posture of invitation.

     You roll your eyes playfully, unable to bite back a smile of your own as you motion for Hobi to lead the way, careful to avoid Jimin's eyes as you let the rapper guide you back into the thrumming pulse of the festivities.

      He gently pulls you onto the dance floor and tugs you into him, keeping a hold on your right hand as he slips the other just below the curve of your waist. You settle into an easy step to the lively beat. Hobi's eyes search your face as you tilt it up to him, running a hand up his chest to adjust the collar of his shirt with a sigh. You fiddle with the soft fabric between your fingers.   

     "I'm sorry, Hobi," you murmur, just loudly enough for him to hear.

     When he just smiles a bit sadly you feel your heart squeeze and you drop your head to his chest. You will yourself not to cry as he slows his movements, slipping a knuckle beneath your chin to raise your gaze to his own.     

     "Hajima," he protests, "Let's talk later. Right now, how about we just have some fun? I missed you."

     His expression is sweet and earnest and you feel like your chest might not have room for anything more than your complete and utter affection for this man. 

     "I missed you too," you admit with a little grin, pressing yourself against him just a bit more firmly and gazing up at him through widened eyes. He blinks for a moment, and then suddenly, there it is again, blooming across his lips - that blinding gorgeous smile, and that heady, infectious laugh.

     In one quick motion, he spins you around to face away from him as the music drops to a deep, throbbing EDM number, his fingertips grazing your hips and his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

     "You did, huh?" he purrs. "Alright, then...show me how much." 

     You suck in a breath because you don't ever think you'll be ready for how quickly he can turn that dark, deep voice in his chest into something that makes you feel like you're astral-projecting. Your first instinct is to push him away, make him take it from you...but this moment isn't for that. After your exit last time around, you’re determined to make him so incredibly certain that you want him. That you need him. 

     You lean back into him and, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the goddess of stilettos, press your ass firmly into his groin. You feel the air leave his lips in a hiss against your neck, and his hands slide to squeeze your hips and tug your body even deeper into his. You grind back against him as your body undulates with the hypnotic rhythm of the beat, but it's not long before he's taken over guiding the motion of your hips to match the rolls of his own. 

     Your eyelids flutter. You've never been this close to him. Sure, in the studio, things had gotten hot and heavy - but you had only been in his hands. He had only touched you to move you, still you, punish you. Now you are flush against his body, and everywhere you touch as he rocks you in tortuous waves against him tastes like the first sumptuous bite of a forbidden fruit. 

You can feel him beginning to swell against the plush of your ass, but even that isn't what has a familiar ache throbbing at the apex of your thighs – it's the effortlessness with which he wrests control of your body, your mind...your very being down to its most primal core.

     Hoseok's hand skids up your side and slips over your collarbones.

     "I like this necklace," he mumbles into your hair.

     You turn in his arms, slipping your fingers around the back of his neck as you raise your lips to his ear.

     "I'm disappointed in you, Hoseok," you tut, "It's not a necklace, you know." 

     He doesn't respond, but focuses on bringing his leg to slot between yours, hiking your dress up enough to tease your mound with brushes over the front of his thigh. You swallow a moan.

He's toying with you, but you won't give in. Not so easily. Not yet.

     "I guess you could call it a choker..." you rasp, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as your face presses into the side of his jaw, "That is more descriptive of its actual purpose, I suppose."

     For one millisecond in the fabric of time and space you feel his pace falter as the words spill from your lips - then he runs his hand up your back, slipping two fingers under the tight strip of velvet surrounding your throat.

     For the first time since you started dancing, you look at him. Crystalline beads of sweat have broken out on his brow, and his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes hooded and dark as tugs his fingers back to command a view of your gaze.

     "Are you telling me," he grits out lowly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip so bruisingly you gasp, "...that you showed up to my party wearing a fucking collar?" 

     You don't answer him - instead you let a wicked smile slip over your lips, refusing defiantly to drop his piercing stare. He has stopped moving you against him, stopped moving entirely. His hands are firm but still where they hold you as his eyes bore down.

     "Are you out here trying to finish what we started?"

     You tilt your head back, narrowing your eyes seductively.

     "What do you think?"

     You watch a thousand and one thoughts race through Hoseok's mind as his eyes drop to your neck again and he swallows thickly.

     "Oh, fuck it," he hisses, turning and catching your hand to pull you impatiently through the crowd. 

     You barely have time to wonder what he's thinking or where you're headed when, at the opening to the hall, he spins to grasp your waist and tuck you into a small alcove. He does it so quickly and with such force that you nearly topple the potted plant on the stand beside you.

     He pushes himself against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and his firm body pressing you to the wall. He holds your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of your body. You let out a tiny whimper.

     His peppermint breath fans over your cheeks.

     "I was going to wait," he whispers loud enough for you to hear him clearly over the music from the room behind you. "I was going to ask you...to stay. After..." he traces his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone as he squeezes your wrists tightly, his nails nipping into your skin. "But you come here with the audacity to tease me like that? Out there, in front of everyone like a desperate little slut?" 

     His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

     "I'm not a patient man," he mutters darkly, and you feel your pussy throb.

     You struggle slightly against his grasp, and he growls lowly. Turning into him, you press your mouth against his throat, letting your teeth graze his skin as you respond.

     "Then don't be."

     It's all the permission he needs. He snatches you away from the wall, dragging you down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest as you gaze at the dark mahogany door growing closer and closer with every stumbled step you take to match his hurried pace.

     He turns to glance over his shoulder, and you follow the action as he grips the handle, turns it, and...

     "What the..." Hoseok mutters, rattling the handle forcefully before raising his fist to pound against the door. "YAH! UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" He booms. 

     You hear muted voices and sounds of scurried movement from within. He bangs again and again until the door swishes open to reveal a flushed and flustered Jungkook, still fumbling with the button of his jeans.

     "Hyung! S-sorry, hyung, I was just...we were..."

     "OUT." Hoseok demands icily, pushing the door inward on its hinges to reveal the peppy, strawberry-scented young woman from before hurrying forward to tuck herself behind Jungkook as she draws a hand across her smeared lipstick. 

You bite back a grin as you watch them scuttle down the hall before Hoseok shuts and locks the door behind you.

     "That kid...seriously," he grumbles. "He knows my room is off limits."

     You chuckle, despite his lack of amusement, and he takes your hand again, drawing you toward a small couch at the far side of the large room. You take in your surroundings as you cross the space - similarly furnished to the rest of the apartment. The furniture is sleek and modern, Kaws sculptures and collectible figurines occupy tables and shelves. There are a few live plants, including one hanging from a large hook in the ceiling near a massive, raised canopy bed.

     He draws you to sit beside him, a crease still pinched between his brows, likely from having to evict the irksome intruders. You laugh softly and run a thumb over his forehead.

     "They're gone!" you chuckle, "Don't let it bother you so much. You'll get wrinkles." You tease, and his face softens.

     He catches your hand in both of his as it lowers. He sighs.

     "I needed a bit of water thrown in my face anyway," he smirks, and you glance down bashfully. "Before anything really happens, I think we should have…a conversation." 

     You nod in agreement.

     "Can I start?" you interject and he nods in return.

     You huff out a long breath.

     "I want to apologize for how I reacted...last time."

     He smiles wryly.

     "It was all very new and sudden to me, and...I don't know...I freaked out."

     Hobi squeezes your hand.

     "You have no reason to be sorry about that. I should have never initiated like that somewhere that wasn't really private. I just got caught up..." he shakes his head.

     "No! Me too! I'm glad it happened. I..." you trail off, feeling your face heat. "Oh, fuck, I don't know how to say this..."

     He claims he's not a patient man, but he waits, watching with tender eyes as you choose your words.

     "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...like..." you take a deep breath as you gather the courage for vulnerable transparency.

     You remember what Jimin said. It's Hobi. You are safe with Hobi.

     "It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Like a release...more than sexual, you know? Like, freedom. Like, I felt so alive."

     He smiles, nodding his head in understanding.

     "I..." you continue, still nervous but with mounting confidence as he makes you feel heard, "I would like to...explore this part of myself, this new world," you gesture, "And...well, I would love for you to be the one to guide me."

     You raise your gaze to his. His eyes are shimmering. He slowly raises a hand and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

     "It would be my honor," he murmurs earnestly.

     A smile blooms across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You raise your hand, curling your fingers into his where they rest against your jaw. He drops your hands, still holding on, to his knee.

     "Can I ask how much you know about the community?" he queries, tracing his thumb softly over your knuckles.

     "A lot more now than I did a couple of weeks ago!" you respond with a laugh. "I know that I'm a sub, but one that likes to...fight back a little bit?"

     Hobi smirks, pocketing his tongue in his cheek. His eyes glint.

     "A brat," he answers. 

     "...Yeah."

  ��  "Want me to work for it."

     Your mouth quirks up in a grin.

     "The harder the challenge the bigger the payoff," he hums, glancing thoughtfully down at your joined hands.

     "I think," he says after a pause, "Since you're new to all this, we should start slow. I already know some things you enjoy, and vice versa. But part of this kind of thing is about testing your limits. You're going to come across things you don't like, too. I need you to be able to tell me. Without a second thought. Seriously."

     He looks at you intently.

     You smile.

     "I trust you enough to know that you’d stop if that’s what I wanted. I may enjoy being dominated but I do still know what I want. And with you...I..." You tug at his hand, "I know I could say what I...need.”

     He huffs out a little breath, his brows drawing together as he regards you in reverence.

     "You know you can be that way with me too, right? Needy?" You ask softly. "I want...to take care of you, that way. Maybe we can...take care of each other." 

     You're not looking at him. You can't. It's all incredibly intimate and strange. When he doesn't respond, you begin to wonder if you said something you shouldn't have. And then your doubts vanish as quickly as they had appeared when you feel his arm slip around your shoulders as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin.

     Your heart sings.

     After a long, quiet moment, Hobi pulls back to look at you. 

     "Should we set some rules for ourselves?" he asks.

     You purse your lips and nod. Admittedly, you had come with a few in mind.

     "I think...we shouldn't kiss. Well, not on the mouth. It's...I don't know. I think it might make things confusing."

     Hobi looks thoughtful, nodding slowly.

     "Which brings me to my other thought," you chew your lip. "I think this should just be about sex. We're friends, and I want to keep that aspect of our relationship strong and uncompromised."

     He smiles. 

     "Makes sense to me. But..." he says with a raise of his brows, "If we do start seeing other people, I think we should tell each other. Especially if they're going to be people we're fooling around with."

     You give an enthusiastic hum of assent.

“I don’t have a partner at the moment,” you shake your head, glancing up at him.

“Me neither.”

He clears his throat and shifts his stance.

“When we’re…together,” he gestures in the space between you. “What about protection?”

You blink thoughtfully.

“I’m on birth control.”

He nods.

“Okay…would you want me to wear a condom?”

You feel heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you wanted you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his own head.

“Ay, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

     "Oh! And we already have a safeword!” you remind him with a grin.

     "We do," he acknowledges, his eyes dropping to the glinting metallic ring adorning your throat.

     Your smile falters and your heartbeat quickens…and when he looks back up at you it's like whiplash as he sets you reeling again with a dark, hungry gaze.

     "If that thing isn't a necklace," he rasps, reaching his fingers up to touch the cold silver, "How about we put it to its proper use, hm?" 

     You shiver, pressing your thighs together as your heartbeat drops to your clit.

     "Yeah..." you whisper, your breath already starting to come quicker as you reach for your bag and fumble with trembling fingers with the clasp. 

     Hoseok's brow knits as he watches you open the purse, reaching in to produce a length of light chain about three feet long with a velvet strap on one and a claw clasp on the other. You double it up and dangle it from your hand, your heart thrumming in your chest as you raise your eyes to his.

     "You can put it on me," you purr, "...But you'll have to take it from me first."

     Click.

     That ineffable thing, that invisible force he wields that arrests you has slipped back into place. You can feel it, pouring off him in devastating waves...and you're already starting to drown.

     It didn't take him long to wrestle the leash from your grasp. Now you're on your knees before him, hands at your sides as he leans forward to affix the chain to the o-ring at your neck. You're breathing hard from your struggle. He stands to his full height, wrapping the links around his hand until the line is taught. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

    "What am I going to do with you now, hm?" he murmurs, tugging at the chain briefly so that you lurch slightly forward. You whine complaintively.

     "Quiet," he hisses in warning. 

     You bite your lip. You need to obey now. Your panties are soaked and you can feel the turgid swell of your clit with every slight motion of your body. If you are good for him, then maybe you will be rewarded. Being a good girl should earn something. Right now, you will take anything.

     Hoseok glowers down at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trail over your features, coming to rest on your pouted lips. He wets his own.

     "You like to run that mouth of yours...how about we see what else it can do?"

     Holy fucking shit. You feel saliva begin to pool under your tongue, your eyes flicking down to the bulge at the front of his slacks. You start to raise your hands toward his belt but he yanks sharply upward on the chain, the metal ring biting into the underside of your jaw, ripping a mewl of discomfort and impatience from your lips.

     He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as his lips curve into a cruel smile.

     "So eager that she can't even wait for permission?"

     You whimper again, biting your lip as he laughs darkly above you.

     "My little whore wants something, doesn't she?"

     You give a silent nod, letting your tongue slip out to wet your lips and watch his eyes darken as his pupils swallow his deep brown irises.

     "Mmm..." He hums in consideration, bringing his free hand to cradle your chin. "I've told you before, sweet thing, if you want something, you have to ask for it."

     Your eyes blink languidly as you look up at him. Your head is swimming as you sway on your knees, the dizzy helplessness of being spun between degradation and endearment hanging over you like a heavy trance. His fingers tighten around your jaw.

     "Come on..." he coaxes in a chilly whisper, "Use that pretty mouth to ask Hoseok."

     You swallow thickly.

    "Wan..." you start softly, but his grip on your jaw sharpens.

     "Speak up, I can't hear you," he commands reproachfully.

     Heat swells up from your neck and sweat begins to tickle your hairline. You know what you want, you've been thinking about little else since he was pressed against you on the dance floor...but the thought of giving your filthy, aching desires shape has every inch of your body trembling.

    "Wan...want..." you struggle over his fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks. 

     He tuts, and the look on his stony features suddenly warns you that if you don't overcome your nerves...

     "Wan' your cock!" you choke out desperately.

     Hoseok's lids dip slowly and his lips part, as if your words have been injected into his veins, and you think you could fucking cum at the sight. His eyes flutter open again and he gazes down. You fight for patience and composure with each maddening second of silence that passes. You can feel your pussy clench and your hands follow suit. Hoseok catches the motion. A sickening grin spreads over his lips.

     "Want this cock, hm?" he hums, releasing your chin from his grasp to palm over the clothed swell inches from your lips.

     You whimper pathetically, letting your eyes slip shut. Fuck you want him. You want your mouth around him. You want to choke on him. You want the thick, sticky milk of his release on your tongue.

     "So tell me, brat," he hisses, wrapping another loop of chain around his palm so that he holds you on a mere few inches of leash. "How do you want my cock?"

     Any shame has been dispelled from your being in the presence of your burning desire, and you raise heavy, lustful eyes to his dark ones.

     "Wanna suck it off."

     You can see his chest beginning to rise and fall with more effort as he pulls you by the leash, in tortuously slow deliberation, until your lips are ghosting over the zipper of his slacks. He glares down at you, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sneer as he holds you in place.

     "BEG."

     A violent tremor of arousal jolts through your abdomen and you gasp.

    "P-please..." you stammer dumbly against the soft, dark cotton.

     "Again."

     "Please..."

     "Please, what?" 

     "Please..." you breath shakily, "Will you fuck my mouth?"

     You feel him twitch under the vibration of your supplicating words. 

     "Alright," he relents in a rasp, "But keep those hands at your sides, understand?”

You nod.

“Unless,” he tugs at the chain again,”You need to stop. Then you grab my leg and squeeze.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do, baby? If you need me to stop?”

“Squeeze your leg.”

“That’s right,” he hums and the repeated instruction.

     You chew on your lip as he pulls off his belt and slips open the button, giving a tug at your collar. As you look up at his hooded eyes, you know exactly what to do.

     You nose at the seam, trying for one moment to ignore the throbbing bulge against your cheek as you find the zipper with your teeth and drag it slowly downward, your eyes never breaking his burning gaze. 

     "Good girl," he hisses, pushing his pants down his hips to reveal a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, a sizable strain pulling at the flexible fabric where he's hard beneath them.

He hooks two thumbs into the elastic and tugs down, his fully erect cock springing free to bob against the side of your face. A sticky streak of precum smears across your cheek as you seek his head with your lips, barely having time to register the smooth tip, or the pretty, pulsating veins as you rush to swallow him whole.

    Hoseok lets out a long, deep groan as you suckle greedily around him. Allowing your spit to slick his shaft you pull back, keeping just the crown between your lips as you worry your tongue along his dripping slit.

     He's rock hard and heavy on your tongue as you lean in to take him farther down your throat, bunching your hands into your dress at the aching urge to cup and stroke the velvet skin of his scrotum.

     "Fuck," he grits out from between clenched teeth, "That's right..."

     You bob lower and lower on his shaft, seeking to take as much of him as you are able. When you feel his tip brush the back of your throat, you moan around him. His free hand flies into your hair, and suddenly he's yanking you off of him. You cough and splutter at the sudden motion and he tugs the chain so that you raise watery eyes to him. He releases your hair to absently stroke himself as he lightly pants over you.

     "Asked me to fuck that throat. Think you can take it?"

     You nod as you attempt to wipe drool pooling on your chin into your shoulder.

     "Words," he pushes, snapping the chain around his wrist.

     "Yeah," you mock, matching his tone, a spark of defiance reigniting inside you.

     Hoseok lets out a hollow laugh.

     "So confident. We'll see about that."

     He slips two fingers of his free hand into the strap of your collar and tugs you back toward his cock. You open wide, extending your tongue to catch the head and pull him between your lips.

You move to swallow him again, but he halts you.

     "Keep still," he mutters coldly, and the fingers at your collar hold you tightly in place as he slowly slides his hips forward in a thrust that has him inching toward your soft palate.

Your eyes water, but you have never been more determined to fight your gag reflex as he pulls back and pushes in again, deeper, his cock tapping again at the back of your throat.

     "Goddamn, you really can take it," he groans in a shaky voice. "Such a good little slut for Hoseok. Such a pretty, filthy little mouth."

     Your nostrils flare as you draw air through your nose, and you swallow, the muscle of your throat contracting tightly around him. At this he seems to break, suddenly pulling back his hips to snap them forward as he sets a rough, self-indulgent pace.

     Your eyes water, spilling over from the brutal stretch and sting, but you dig your fingers into your thighs, determined to take him as long as you possibly can.

     You start to feel light-headed, and just when you think you're going to have to tap out for air, Hoseok's pulling you off of him and wrenching your face upwards to run his wild eyes over it.

    You gasp for breath a moment, and then you're opening your mouth to him again, blinking up through bleary eyes in a silent, hungry plea. He shakes his head slowly as he gazes down at you, chest heaving.

     "Shit, look at you..."

     You're a site. Tears and mascara streak your cheeks, saliva and precum slick your chin and neck, your parted lips swollen. Hoseok's fingers twist where they're still hooked into the collar. 

     "You still want it, don't you? My god..." he smears the tip of his cock along your bottom lip.

Your eager tongue wriggles forward to brush over him again. He swallows, and with a growl he slaps his cock down harshly over it. You let out a little sob as your soaking, aching cunt clenches around nothing. 

     "Alright," he mutters in a husky whisper, "Gonna fucking ruin that tight little throat. Gonna fill it the fuck up. Blow my load all over that nasty little tongue. And you want that, don't you? Wanna be Hoseok's pretty little cumslut, hm?" 

     You nod, and then remember the rules.

     "Yes," you croak, and open wide for him again.

     He grits his teeth and tugs at the collar to pull you slowly over him again with a shudder. You've proven more than capable and it's not long before he's chasing release at a punishing pace. It's sloppy and desperate - the hollow, wet sounds as he fucks your face a pornographic symphony. 

Suddenly you think you can feel his cock twitch and jerk as it hammers into your mouth, and when he grows so incredibly hard, you know he's about to reach his peak.

     You lock eyes with him through your tears, watching his features strain to maintain their composure. Without warning he grabs the back of your head and slams into you, arching over as he cries out.

     And he cums.

     Thick ropes spurt down your throat as he quivers and throbs.

     The moment he's spent his last drop of release he fists into your hair and roughly pulls you back, letting his softening cock fall free. You gasp for breath, coughing as you choke down the last remnants of his seed. Lips trembling, your eyes search his face for what you so desperately need...and you find it.

     His lids are heavy over his eyes, mere glistening slips of midnight visible as they gleam down at you; his beautiful lips are parted as he pants, the honey planes of chest glistening with sweat where his shirt fails to obscure it.

     He's breathless and sated and glorious, and you bask under the intensity of his gaze. He releases his hold on your collar and lets the leash clatter to the ground, bringing his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the streaks of tears.

     "So, fucking good for me," he mutters shakily, his brow drawn, "Such a pretty, perfect little brat." 

     Your eyes slip shut under his words of praise. You could move mountains if he asked you to, you were certain. In this moment, in this space, anything for this man. Everything.   

     You feel his hands leave your face as he moves to help you stand, before tugging his briefs back into place. 

The heat of the moment past, you become acutely aware of the stinging soreness in your knees as you struggle to your feet – and the sticky ache of persistent hunger throbbing between your thighs. You teeter on your heels as blood rushes to your lower legs.

Smiling, he reaches out and pulls you to him gently by the waist, swiping a thumb over your chin.

     "You were a good girl, baby. So, so good," He coos in a husky whisper. "You remember what good girls get, hm?" He's still calling the shots and demanding answers, but his eyes are soft as they regard you.

     "A reward?" you answer hopefully.

     He hums in assent.

     "That's right, baby. That's right," He brushes at the smeared makeup under your eye. "But let's get that messy little face cleaned up first." 

     After unfastening your collar he sits you down on the bed, bringing makeup wipes to gently dab away the proof of your efforts, and offers you a bottle of cool water. He comes to sit beside you, eyes tracking you attentively as you drink.

     "Want Hoseok to take care of that needy little pussy?" he asks, with a smirk.

     "Fuck yes," you breath as you lower the bottle from your mouth.

     He arches a brow, and you purse your lips in an attempt not to grin.

     "Please," you add in correction.

     "Mmm," he acknowledges thoughtfully, turning to gaze over his shoulder at the spider plant hanging from the ceiling a few feet past the other side of the bed.

     "Does my little girl want to try something new?" he asks, his eyes still on the suspended planter.

     You feel your pulse quicken and stomach twist in anticipation.

     "Yes, Hoseok, I trust you," you respond without reserve.

     He flicks his eyes to your face, brows drawing together. He wets his lips and huffs out a breathy laugh.

     "You have no goddamned idea what you do to me when you say shit like that."

     You look away, smiling brightly as you preen under the heat and affection of his gaze.

     He reaches for your hand and guides you to rise to your feet.

     "Alright, ditch the dress," he orders, gesturing with a flick of his chin as he leans back on his hands and spreads his thighs in a posture of recline.

     You step back to give yourself space, already weak in the knees at the prospect of stripping for him. You steel your composure, a spark of boldness lighting in your belly. Taking a few steps away and turning from him, you look back over your shoulder to watch his face as you reach behind to slowly drag the zipper down your back. You make a slow, sensual show of peeling the garment from your body to reveal a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong. Stepping out of the dress and tossing it away, in nothing but your lingerie and stilettos, you stride back to stand patiently before him.

     He leans forward and runs his hands up the sides of your thighs until they reach your hips where they slide back to squeeze the meat of your ass.

You bring your hands gingerly to his shoulders. 

Tugging your body toward him, he draws himself to the edge of the mattress, pulling you between his thighs as he uses his sharp, white teeth to nip along the soft flesh of your belly. He sucks harshly at some places, leaving flushed little souvenirs of claim in his wake. You don't hold back the proof of your pleasure - repaying his ministrations with gasps and low moans as his hands and mouth explore you.

     Hoseok raises his face from your skin, his pupils wide as his gaze settles at your breasts. 

"Bra off," he commands, squeezing your ass again as you reach back to unfasten the clasp and pull the straps from your arms.

     He hisses and grits his teeth, raising greedy hands to knead at your supple flesh, before pulling them away to twist and slap at your nipples. 

You groan and throw your head back, relishing in the shocks of sensation – gushing, as if you could ruin your soaked panties any further. As you press your trembling thighs together he glances down at the last remaining vestige of your modesty, lips spreading into a wicked grin.

     "You know I can fucking smell it - how wet you are? My god, want you to wear it like a perfume, fuck..." He runs his right hand to rub against the dampness that has the lace clinging to your slit.

     The moan you let out is so needy it's practically a sob. Hoseok laughs low in his chest.

     Suddenly he’s standing and spinning you around, leading you to the end of the bed. He places your hands on the footboard and instructs you to bend over, sliding your hips back until your ass is on full display. He runs his hands over the bare flesh of your cheeks.

    "Now," he growls, "Can't fuck this ass until it's properly marked, can we?"

     You swallow and let out a whine. The blood is already rushing to your head in a familiar surge and in the split second of silence before impact, you know what's coming - the anticipation somehow even more intoxicating when you remember how it feels when he...

     Smack!

     You whimper, your fingers gripping the bed frame as he delivers blow after searing blow. When he has satisfied himself with the flushed tone streaking the globes of your ass, he gives it a final squeeze, commanding you to wait where you are.

     You hear him as he moves to the side of the bed to pull an object from beneath it. He seems to be grappling with something - the clink of metal and soft rustle of leather interrupting the sudden heavy hush. He returns to your side, taking your hands from the bed and bringing you to stand. As he leads you to the far side of the bed, you see it: hanging from the large hook in the ceiling that once bore the spider plant there is a large leather contraption. You've never seen one in real life, but you know what it is.

     "You have a sex swing?" you murmur in awe, momentarily forgetting yourself as you reach out to brush your fingers over the soft leather. There are buckle straps at different places and a metal bar running across the top. He lightly grips your waist, turning you to face him again. He dips his head forward and you inhale the cool mint of his breath.

     "Gonna put you in it," he murmurs, "You remember our word, right?"

     "Yes," you breathe.

“Say it.”

“Foxglove.”

He smirks.

     "Good girl. Panties off," he instructs.

     You couldn't be more eager to pull the sopping fabric down your legs and toss it aside, but when you reach to remove your shoes, he catches your wrist.

     "I didn't say you could take those off, did I?" he reprimands, and your pulse begins to hammer in your throat.

     He’s gonna fucking strap you to this thing in your goddamned heels.

     You comply with him as he helps you into the seat, fastening your wrists together to a strap that has them raised above your head. After securing your hands, he raises your legs, carefully stretching them so that your feet are on the outside of the wide set cables, hooking your heels to catch on the bar across the top to hold your legs, spread wide, in place. With each restriction he checks in, making sure you’re completely comfortable with his choices. 

When he finishes he comes to stand before you, heaving out a sigh through his nose as he trails a hand down the back of your thigh.

     "Look at you," he groans as his eyes rake over your body.

     You can feel your pussy leaking. Your heart pounds. The muscles in your legs strain a bit from the stretch and the bindings nip into your wrists and feet. You are completely exposed to him...and it is utter perfection. Like you were made to be at his mercy. You blink up at him through the fuzzy haze that keeps intensifying as you relinquish yourself deeper and deeper into his control.

     His eyes slip shut for a moment and he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before bringing his lips to graze against the back of your calf.

     "Hoseok..." you whisper, trembling. 

     His eyes open and lock with yours. You hold each other's gaze in silence. 

Nothing needs to be said - you both know. You both understand.

     He unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, and after discarding his briefs he is as naked as you are. With one hand he grips your leg, slipping two fingers of the other to slide through the swollen, sticky folds of your cunt. You cry out, your pelvis shuddering - so ripe to be touched that the contact sends a shock like an electric pulse through your being. 

     "What a pretty fucking pussy...so desperate for me," he mutters.

     You watch his beautiful fingers as they slip through your glistening lips and over your throbbing clit before he pulls his hand up. He lets it hover in the air for a moment before bringing it down with a harsh smack against your mound. 

A scream strangles in your throat as he repeats the motion again. Your whole body shakes with arousal. 

He clenches his jaw as he trails his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping in shallowly to gather your bountiful slick. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting you as he watches you tremble beneath him. He withdraws them with a pop.

     "You know how much you like that? Getting this little cunt slapped?" His eyes trail down. "You're dripping down your fucking ass."

     Shuddering violently, you whimper, tugging impatiently at your restraints.

     "Yah," he warns, and you still. "Guess you're ready for me, huh? Just like that day..." He smirks condescendingly. "You're always ready, aren't you?" He hisses. "Need me so fucking badly...all of the time."

     You sob as your walls contract again and again. He takes his cock into his hand and slides it through your folds, teasing the tip over your clit.

     It's euphoric, but it's not enough. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you fight your own desperate need until the copper taste of blood seeps across your tongue. Somehow, it doesn't even hurt – you can't feel anything past the need for him to fill you. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you gasp.

     “Look at me," he rasps.

     Your eyes snap open. Your legs are shaking, vibrating the entire apparatus as he finally, slowly, sinks into your wet heat. The stretch of him is exquisite, and your eyes roll back in your head as he groans, steadily pulling back to push into you again.

“Shiiiiiitttt…” he hisses through his teeth, “Fucking made for me. Does my little brat like that? Hoseok’s cock stuffing that tight little cunt?”

“M-more…p-please…” you mewl, nearly unable to even form the words as his ridges drag deliciously along your taught walls.

     You're so incredibly worked up that already you can feel a climax building in your belly, and he's only just started to fuck you. Unable to touch him any other way, you squeeze around him tightly.

     He lets out a grunt, picking up his pace as he uses the mobility of the swing to pound you onto his cock. 

You cry out, your head rattling against the leather as stroke after stroke sends you hurtling toward your high. Your mouth hangs open, and your vision begins to blur at the edges, the position of your arms making it harder to breathe. It’s going put you over the edge. He catches your glazed stare.

     "Don't you fucking cum until I say," he grits out breathlessly, and you let out a wail, head falling back. 

     You can feel yourself barely holding on as he slams into you, teetering on the edge as you hear his voice.

     "Whose little whore are you?"

     You try to speak but the words won't rattle out of your chest.

     "Whose?" he booms.

     "Yours!" you press out in a sob.

     "Who do you kneel for?"

     "You!" 

     "Who owns this pussy?"

     "Y-you!"

     "And who the fuck am I?"

     "HOSEOK!"

     "Cum, slut." he growls.

...And you free-fall through time and space.

     The summer evening air is warm against your skin as you step out under the rose gold twilight. Behind you the chic dining venue is still abustle, and you wave coworkers a fond farewell as they head off to continue the evening with karaoke. It's been a big day for you, and there's someone you've been waiting to talk to.

     You press the green call button and wait as the line rings.

     "Yeoboseyo?" 

     The warm voice on the other end has a smile blooming on your lips.

     "Hey, Hobi-ssi!" you hum.

     "Hey hey!" he chrips, "What's up?"

     "Oh, nothing," you respond casually, "Just got done with a company dinner. Someone got a promotion, so we all went out."

     There's a pause on the other end.

     "Oh," answers slowly, "That one you put in for?"

     "Mhm."

     You hear him scoff in amusement

     "Well, at least you seem to be taking it well."

     "I'd say I'm taking it extremely well, which is only natural, considering I got the job."

     "Yes, well...wait, YOU WHAT?!"

     You pull the phone momentarily away from your ear as his joyful, raucous laughter blasts through the speaker.

     "You're gonna make me go deaf!" You chide. Your smile is brighter than the setting sun.

     "I'm so proud of you."

     "Thanks, Hobi."

     "You should celebrate!"

     "I did go out with my work friends...but..."

    "You should come over," he interjects.

  The register of his voice has changed. You recognize the new one.

     "Yeah?" you swallow, as your heart rate quickens. "Well...what if I do want to go to karaoke?"

     You wait for his response, watching your ride share pull up to the curb.

     "Yah - you gonna be a good girl…”

     You hold your breath.

     “...Or do I have to make you?"

-FIN-

[biibini]

Perhaps maybe Mizu as a bottom? Whimpering and begging for more. Reader talking her through it and being loving.

nsfw bottom!mizu x top!reader (request)

tags: dom!reader, bottom mizu, eating out, cunilingus, smut, 18+. begging, whimpering, praise, dirty talk, modern au

a/n: requests & posts r gonna be slowed down for now bc of school hahaha hahaha (i have three 3-hr classes back to back in one day im going to cry),,, anyways i'll shut up ab school and start writing with one hand down my pant-

18+ content below!

u and mizu are making out one night in bed one late night

nothing crazy but its getting really heated

usually, u would let her stay on top and continue to mess u up with her fingers

but tonight would be something different

u move as u continue to make out, placing urself on top this time

"Oh, does my pretty girl want to be in control?" Mizu teased, placing her hands atop your hips. Her eyes traced your body starting from your thighs. You feel her hands softly grab your waist, anticipating your next move.

You nodded in response, getting close to her face. You stare deeply into those ocean blue orbs of hers. God, you could get lost in them anytime.

"Please, let me be on top tonight." You proposed.

Mizu couldn't resist your pretty eyes staring at her, almost begging to try something new. She tilted her head in curiousity.

"Okay, baby." Her hands adjusted to your thighs, giving them a small squeeze. "So what are your plans tonight Y/N?"

"Mmm, nothing in particular." Your face inching closer to her face, your lips almost brushing with hers. "I just want to love my beautiful girlfriend."

You close the gap between you two while your right hand gently palms her boxers. Your fingers drag along the thin gray fabric, only to find a small damp spot by her entrance. Still busy deepening the kiss with your beloved, you circle the edges of the wet spot. A moan slips out of Mizu.

When it comes to Mizu and noises, she typically doesn't speak out too much. You would mainly hear her in praises and words. However, your main goal was to change that tonight.

You continued to bring attention the the spot, circling it deeper. Mizu could feel the pads of your fingers dragging the surroundings of her entrance. It didn't help that the boxer fabric dragged along her clit.

God, that fucking underwear. It was the only thing between her and true pleasure from you. If only you could rip it off right now, she thought.

Instead, she threw her head back as you continued, positioning yourself under her. You hear her take a deep breath.

Looking up, you spot Mizu watching your next actions. Her face was practically red yet her eyes glowed blue in anticipation of your next move.

If it wasn't for your mission, you would have torn the boxers off of her and gone to town. However, you decided otherwise. You wanted to hear those sweet moans of her tonight.

No. 'Wanted' wasn't the right word.

Needed.

You paused right in front of her boxers. You come back up, your face still close to her body. Your hand balances you as the other makes its way up her oversized shirt, finding her breasts and giving the left one a soft squeeze.

"Fuck, Y/N..." she moaned.

Not enough, I know she can say more.

Your index finger barely brushes against her right nipple. A small gasp escapes out of Mizu.

Bingo.

As your hand cups her boob, you feel it grows hard against the fabric only a few seconds after. You chuckle, rubbing her nipple in between your thumb and index finger. Another moan slips out, louder in volume.

You check on her visual reaction, only to find her frustrated. Yet her erratic breathing and flushed face proved otherwise. You come closer to her, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Does it feel good, my love?" you question. There was endearment behind that question, but Mizu could also hear the light teasing tone.

“God, Y/N, it feels so- ah-" she attempts to answer while your right hand now lightly tugging on her right nipple, still rubbing it between tugs. You feel her right hand pet the back of your head, running through your scalp.

"It feels so good, baby."

Her praises were all you needed to keep going.

You deepen the kiss and pull up her shirt impatiently to get a better view. At this point, fuck the fabric. You needed to hear her moan more. You start your journey back down, peppering her neck with kisses.

"Oh does it now?" You question, your voice vibrating against her neck.

"Fuck...", she quietly whines. "Yes, it does- ah-"

You had made your way down to her boobs, now planting kisses on her soft mounds. You lightly start to suck on the soft sides of her breasts, leaving a subtle mark for her to find later tomorrow morning.

"My love is so good." you tease, kissing it once again as your fingers pull on her right nipple again.

No coherent words came out of Mizu. Instead, only moans spilled out of your girlfriend. In response to the pleasure, you feel Mizu's hand against your scalp start to fist up, grabbing a chunk of your hair.

You groan from the light tug. Fuck, this was really hot. Mizu, the typical top, was a fumbling wet mess under your touch.

On the other hand, Mizu's mind was on its way to being fried from pleasure. Her pretty girl was treating her so well, pushing every button.

Well, almost every button. Except the ones covered by her boxers.

You dragged yourself down in between her legs again. The small damp spot from before had grown in size from earlier. A small grin formed as you ran your finger down the middle of the spot. Passing her clit, you feel her twitch under you. You heard a groan in response to the touch.

"Aw Mizu," you say teasingly as your hands gently held her thighs apart, allowing you more room to get closer. "Did you need some attention here?", you say as you ran the same finger down the same spot.

Another moan escapes.

You continued to palm her throbbing clit through the fabric. If the roles were reversed, you would have been begging Mizu for her fingers, the strap, or just anything in you. Circumstances have changed tonight so you wondered how Mizu would react to similar scenarios.

"Shit...", she cursed. "Baby."

Mizu pulled herself up by her elbows, looking down to see the view of u in between her legs. You continue to palm the spot with a bit more pressure. You could tell the fabric being the only barrier between ur fingers and her wet folds was pissing Mizu off.

"Fuck hell, Y/N..." she says.

You hum in response, planting a kiss on her spot. Mizu takes a deep breath in, her mind trying to clear up. Instead, it's filled with lust, almost impatient for your touch.

"Please, baby." she answers.

"Please, what?" You palmed her boxers to find her clit, practically sticking out and throbbing against the thin gray fabric. You circled around it, watching and hearing every moan come out of Mizu.

You watch her throw her head back, biting her lip. Her eyes were already half-lidded, drunk with receiving pleasure from her pretty girl.

"Please eat me out, pretty girl."

You kiss her inner thigh, smiling in delight. You pulled down her boxers to find her wet mess puffy and needy, wanting and waiting to be touched by you.

She takes a peek at your reaction, hoping to watch the scene. She could finally unravel her and feel the pleasure that you had been teasing her with.

Face to face with her entrance, you could feel the heat off of it radiate. You give it a slow lick, finally tasting your mission's reward. Mizu groans, now louder for you to hear.

You feel more liquid gush out, lubricating your tongue with her honey.

"Mmm, s'good for me.", you compliment as your tongue enters slowly. You feel her walls tighten with the sudden entrance.

"Oh god, fuck." Mizu curses, her eyes closed shut. Her mind fully lets herself go, vulnerable under ur touch and waiting for your work to pleasure her even more. You continue to enter your tongue inside her, hoping to hear the volume of her moans increase.

[willieverseetheland]

jingle bells.

spencer reid x fem!reader summary: spencer gets a little too tipsy at the office christmas party.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, language, spencer being a dork

fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers

I know christmas has been over, I just felt inspired.

wc: 1.4k

You've always loved Christmas. It wasn't the holiday itself; it was how it brought people together. Everything just feels so cozy and bright. So when Penelope asked you to help her decorate for the party, you were more than happy to do so.

Although your job can be very depressing at times, the office environment is truly amazing. Everyone is so kind. You couldn't ask for better coworkers. However, there's one fellow profiler you've grown rather close with these past few months.

Spencer Reid was one of the first people you became friends with at the BAU, other than Penelope of course. He's such a good friend, and always seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say. He notices the little things, like when you were always complaining about your feet being cold, so he bought you fuzzy socks. Or when he overheard you talking to Emily about how badly you wanted this decorative plate set for your new apartment, and he got it for you for your birthday. He's truly the best friend a girl could ever ask for. But recently you've been wondering if it's only platonic love that you feel. Could it be more than friendship? You find yourself putting extra effort into your appearance, but you just chalk it up to wanting to better yourself. You have also noticed how when you shop, you choose clothes you think he might like.

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he feels the same way. Does he lie in bed at night thinking of your voice and laughter the way you think of him? Does he get flustered when your knees brush together during debriefs? Does he get that fluttery feeling in his stomach when you lock eyes from across the room?

Now that you're thinking about it, you really fucking like him. You feel like a teenager with a schoolgirl crush. God, how could you let this happen? You know that co-worker relationships rarely work out. But you're an adult, you can be mature about it, right?

You snap out of your daydream and realize its already 6:00. The party starts in an hour, and you only have a quarter of what you need to do done.

"Hey Penelope, think we could get some Christmas music going? I work faster with music playing!"

"It's like you read my mind y/n!"

The sound of bells fills the room and suddenly you find yourself feeling very festive. You hear Penelope humming along.

You work quickly to get the last of the lights and tinsel strung up. You wish it could look like this year-round. You check your watch. 6:53. Everyone should be arriving soon.

You hear the elevator ding and see Derek walk out with a plate full of what is most definitely store-bought cookies.

"Wow, you ladies really outdid yourselves."

"Hello Derek and thank you" you smile.

People begin to arrive one-by-one. Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. Everyone says their hellos and get settled. Some make their way to the booze faster than others.

It's 7:25 and Spencer isn't here yet. You feel a pit begin to form in your stomach. You were really hoping to see him tonight. You decide to grab yourself a drink and socialize, take your mind off of him. He'll show up eventually, right?

"Y/N! Hey! Where's your other half?" Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrows. You can tell she snuck a few shots in the elevator.

"I assume you mean Spencer. Not sure actually." So much taking your mind off of him. And what did she mean by other half? It's not that obvious right?

You scan the room, hoping to see Spencer, but you don't. However, you do catch Rossi getting rather comfortable with new forensic photographer.

You finish your drink and wander off to get another. Looking at your watch you see that it's 7:47. You're starting to feel a little hopeless. But right as you turn to rejoin the party, you see him. Those big brown eyes and fluffy hair.

"Hey Y/N, sorry I'm late. I had to go pick up some last-minute gifts."

Weight falls off of your shoulders at the sound of his voice. You feel overwhelming relief now that he's here. You had spent the last hour, or at least what felt like an hour, with your jaw clenched and a heavy feeling in your stomach. You hate feeling this way. You know you need to talk to him, but you don't want to screw up a good thing.

"It's alright Spence, I'm just glad you're here now." You give him a warm smile and place your hand on his shoulder.

He gives you his classic dorky smile in return, and you feel those all too familiar butterflies swell in your stomach.

As the night goes on, the wine flows and sounds of laughter fills the room. You stay by Spencer's side practically the whole night. Now you understand what Emily meant. You notice he's had quite a bit to drink. Definitely not more than Rossi, but more than usual. You feel like he's being more playful and affectionate as well. But you assume it's just the alcohol. You desperately hope he's flirting, but you don't want to look too far into it.

Your thoughts quickly dissolve into the air as the room goes silent and Rossi's rather loud voice announces it's time to exchange gifts. You give out your gifts and accept the ones given to you. You receive a cinnamon roll scented candle from Emily, a pair of heart shaped earrings from Penelope, a fuzzy blanket from JJ, and various trinkets and gadgets from others. Spencer hands you a slender box wrapped in shiny blue snowflaked wrapping paper.

"I wonder what this could be." You raise your eyebrow playfully and give a small laugh.

You carefully tear off the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside is a necklace with small heart shaped locket.

"Go ahead, open the locket." he has a drunken grin, and his eyes are eager.

You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Spencer from your birthday. You feel a warmth spread over your face and you can't help but smile.

"Oh my god Spencer, this is- thank you so much, really." You pull him into a tight embrace. Relishing in the feeling of his arms around you for just a moment. You pull away, smile faltering slightly.

"Would you walk with me? Outside? It's really warm in here." His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are a rosy pink. His drinks have definitely caught up with him now. No wonder he feels warm.

"Of course, are you feeling okay?" you ask with sincerity.

"Yeah, there's just a lot of noise. Just need some fresh air s'all."

You two slip out into the crisp, December night. The sky's clear so you can see the stars. Your breath creates mini clouds in the night air.

You look over at Spencer and wonder what's going on inside that brilliant brain of his. You've always been so fascinated by the way he thinks.

"You look so beautiful right now. I-I mean you always do, but in this moment you..." his voice trails off like he has more to say, but doesn't know if he should say it.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You let out a quiet laugh.

You can hear carolers singing jingle bells in the distance.

You glance up at him and see that he's looking at you. His eyes reflect the full moon. There's a sadness in his eyes but also an admiring, soft expression.

"y/n."

"Yeah, Spencer?" You place your hand on his forearm. His mouth opens and closes slightly like he doesn't know if he should say what he's about to say.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, y/n." his voice is soft and trembling ever so slightly. His eyes jump across your face, searching for a reaction.

You feel like your brain might short circuit. You're overwhelmed with emotion. You feel a sting as your eyes prick up with tears.

"Spencer, I don't know what to say." You see his smile fade and fear that may have been poor choice of words.

You decide maybe words won't do how you feel justice.

You step closer to him, placing your right hand on his cheek and the left just below his jaw. You breathe in deeply and pull his face to yours. You place a soft kiss on his lips. He then grabs the sides of your face deepening the kiss. You feel heat creeping up your neck, and the whole world feels as though it's melting away.

You pull away, catching your breath. He looks starstruck, like he can't believe what just happened. And honestly, you can't either. You almost want to ask him to pinch you.

"I love you too, Dr. Spencer Reid."

[katelynnwrites]

Still Worship This Love (Even If It’s A False God) | Laura Freigang

warnings: some serious smut so read at your own discretion

word count: 4004

summary: your girlfriend gets her turn to take an intimate set of photos

a/n: requested, the long awaited part two to Got Lovestruck (Went Straight To My Head), it can also be read as a standalone :)

Your girlfriend’s possessive.

You’ve known that from the very beginning of your relationship.

The extent of which you’re only just starting to find out.

‘My girlfriend.’ She introduces every chance she gets.

She holds your hand everywhere you both go and if her hand is not in yours, it’s in your back pocket. The blonde makes it known to your mutual friends, teammates and fans that you are hers.

The hickies she marks you up with makes it known to everyone else.

None of that is new.

What is new is the way Laura’s got you in her national team jersey and nothing else.

Freigang is the name prominently displayed on the back. Her number is printed there too.

‘Look at the camera.’ She instructs.

You do as she asks and she presses the shutter button down.

The Polaroid camera spits the film out and the striker hums in satisfaction. She sets it aside, fixing her gray blue eyes on you again.

‘Spread your knees for me.’

You’re helpless to resist her, parting your legs and giving her exactly what she wants.

The striker snaps another photo, the click of the camera making a rush of arousal shoot through your body.

‘Lau.’ You moan and she smirks.

‘You’re so wet. Is it because of me?’

Your cheeks flush red and the blonde laughs, settling her camera down for a moment.

She tilts your chin upwards, pressing her lips onto yours for a moment.

‘Don’t tease Laura. It’s not very nice.’ You pant when she pulls away.

The blonde looks even cockier than before, if at all possible.

You think you fall even harder for her when she says, ‘I love you like this. So beautiful and just for me.’

She gives you one more heated kiss before returning to her Polaroid camera and snapping a close up of your soaking cunt.

‘Laura.’ You moan.

Under her watchful gaze, you squirm on the bed.

Back in her usual position as the one in charge, she is content to make you wait.

Until you physically can’t anymore, begging, ‘Lau please.’

Your girlfriend quirks her eyebrow upwards, ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Touch me please. Please Laura please.’

You fight the urge to play with your own clit, having been explicitly told by your girlfriend not to. She had wanted to take photos of how wet you are first.

Laura snaps another photo, relishing in how desperate you look.

‘But why? You’re practically dripping already and I haven’t even touched you yet.’

‘Please.’ You whimper and it is the way your voice fractionally breaks that has the German woman giving in.

Carefully putting her camera aside, she swings her leg over your body and grinds down.

You groan immediately, at the feel of her hips pressing against yours.

The blonde grins and palms your breast through the material of her jersey, causing you to whimper.

Your nipples are sensitive and they rub up against the fabric. Laura seems to sense how pleasurable it feels for you because she repeats the action, getting you to whimper her name before deciding to switch things up.

Her fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and pulling them slightly so that you gasp sharply.

‘Laura.’ You moan.

Your girlfriend leans up to kiss you, murmuring, ‘You drive me crazy you know? The way you say my name. The noises you make when I fuck you.’

As she speaks, the blonde slips two of her fingers into you.

‘Laura!’ You cry out.

The blonde sounds entirely satisfied as she coos, ‘Just like that.’

She thrusts her fingers a few times, her thumb finding your clit as she sets up a good rhythm.

Your knees tremble and she keeps kissing you.

When she brushes up against that special spot inside you, you have to break the kiss in favour of gasping.

The forward is very capable of stealing the air right out of your lungs and she delights in proving that over and over again.

Laura pushes another finger into you, letting you feel the stretch. Her thumb presses down on your swollen clit and she swallows your ensuing moan by capturing your lips with hers.

‘I want to try something. Can I try something new with you?’ She asks against your lips.

Your girlfriend sits back, giving you time to think.

It’s not unusual for the Eintracht Frankfurt player to bring kinks or toys into your relationship. She always makes sure you are comfortable beforehand and so far, you have been okay with everything she has wanted to try. You have loved it even, especially when it gives Laura pleasure.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath and when you do, you softly ask, ‘What do you have in mind?’

The blonde hesitantly bites her lip before going into the bathroom and returning with a small bag.

She hands it to you and you glance at her with some confusion, ‘Schatz?’

‘Look inside.’

So you do, a small surprised exhale leaving you.

To check if they really are what you think they are, you tip the contents of the bag out onto your palm.

Coloured glass butt plugs. In a variety of sizes and all with two initials embossed on them. The letters L and F, Laura’s initials.

‘Want to fill you up. To make you so full for me.’

You shiver at your girlfriend’s words. There is no denying how appealing that idea is to you.

It’s clear as day in how you practically beg, ‘Yes. Please Lau fill me up. Make me yours.’

The blonde moans, ‘Fuck you’re so good to me. So good for me.’

She can’t resist picking up her Polaroid camera and taking a photo of you, catching precisely how needy you look.

‘We’ll start small okay?

Laura selects the littlest of the plugs, a little pink one.

As she coats it liberally in lube, she gently says, ‘Remember to use your safe word if it becomes too much. The second it becomes too much, you let me know and we’ll stop.’

You nod quickly, completely focused on the delicate motions of your girlfriend’s fingers.

It’s almost mesmerising and the heat between your legs pool.

The German woman finishes what she’s doing and then easily slips back into her role of being in charge.

‘Get on your stomach for me.’

You obey immediately, the muscles in your ass tensing involuntarily.

Laura hands you a pillow to prop your head up against.

Despite her dominance, your girlfriend can’t help showing how deeply she cares.

She presses a kiss onto your back and then carefully runs her index finger up from your clit and through your crack.

The striker feels your gathered wetness coat her skin and it’s a lot but not enough for what she wants to do to you.

So she squeeze a generous portion out of lube onto her palm, letting the substance warm for a few seconds before she spreads it between your ass cheeks.

You can’t help the gasp that escapes, already so sensitive to the blonde’s touch.

She massages it in and you whine.

You need her in you and you need it now.

‘Schatz.’ You plead.

Laura grins and takes pity on you, pressing the plug against your ass.

You still immediately, the penetration overwhelming your senses for a minute.

Clenching around the glass plug experimentally, you find that you don’t mind the intrusion. In fact, as you squeeze around it again and again, you realise that you rather like it.

Your girlfriend gives you a minute to adapt, occupying herself by pushing her jersey upwards and scattering kisses onto your now exposed back.

‘I’m good Lau.’ You breathe, giving her the go ahead to do whatever she has planned next.

Experimentally, the Eintracht Frankfurt player presses down on the plug.

You groan out loud, tightening around the toy.

The plug has a flared base and Laura tugs on it lightly, fucking you with it.

Your fingers grip onto the pillow and your thighs quiver at the pleasure.

‘You look so perfect like this.’ Laura praises, her own cunt beginning to flood with arousal.

There’s the familiar click of her camera and you moan again as you hear it.

‘Can you take a bigger one? Can you let me stretch your gorgeous ass out more?’

‘Yes!’ You eagerly answer.

With some difficulty, you relax enough for your girlfriend to pull the toy out. It comes free with a wet noise that has you blushing a bright red.

Laura resists the urge to chuckle, instead opting for, ‘Don’t move.’

She looks over her plugs and her hand hovers over them before she picks out a blue one. This one is two sizes bigger and you give a quiet whimper as you see the one she’s chosen.

‘I said stay still. Or I won’t let you come.’

Right away, you turn back around.

Trembling with anticipation, you bite your lip as you wait for her to spread lube over the glass butt plug.

Laura takes her time, noting that the suspense seems to be making you more aroused.

She snaps a quick photo before putting her camera and the developing film aside.

With both hands free, she spreads your ass cheeks apart, placing the blunt head of the toy against your hole.

It’s much thicker than the one before but with the copious amounts of lube and steady pressure, it begins to slip inside you.

Your tight ring of muscle has to stretch to accomodate the plug and the burn has you groaning Laura’s name.

‘Full. So full.’ You pant when it’s halfway in.

The blonde pauses. The plug is certainly bigger than the previous one but she had thought you could take it, given how easily you had taken the earlier one.

Realising why your girlfriend is stalling, you assure her, ‘Don’t stop Lau. Feels nice too, I promise.’

Your pussy is aching when Laura resumes applying a firm pressure to the plug.

She’s slow about it but eventually, it slips in.

You cry out as it does and the striker heaps praise onto you.

‘You look so beautiful. In my jersey and made so full by me. I love my initials in you.’

The last part has you moaning, ‘Am yours. Always will be.’

Laura moans herself, ‘You don’t know what you’re doing to me.’

Her fingers play with the plug in you, each nudge eliciting a whimper or whine from your lips.

It builds up and the blonde smiles knowingly. She relishes in it, knowing that you are coming close to your climax.

She is proven right shortly, when you choke out, ‘Please may I come?’

The movement of the plug in you has you on the edge and you intentionally clench around it.

Instead of deigning to reply to you, Laura presses her palm harshly against the base of the plug.

It forces it deeper into you and you sob, entirely taken by surprise.

There is no describing the sort of sensory input that rushes through your body. Your clit pulses and the muscles in your ass flutter around the toy involuntarily.

Tears form in your eyes and your fingers grip onto the pillow desperately.

‘Laura. Laura. Laura.’ You mumble hazily, lost in the influx of sexual gratification.

Vaguely, you register the clicking of a camera.

It continues for a few minutes until your girlfriend’s attention returns to you and she gives the butt plug a brief wiggle, eliciting a wrecked moan from you.

Your moaning grows in volume when the German woman moves her fingers to your clit, drawing firm circles on it.

‘Stunning. You’re so stunning.’

Laura slips her two of her fingers into you and your ensuing cry is so loud that your girlfriend is glad that the neighbours are away.

She stops playing with your butt plug just to briefly pinch her own clit. It’s beyond swollen and Laura thinks she could come just from hearing you moan her name.

The striker scissors her fingers in you, the double stretch causing you to arch your back.

Laura groans at the feel of you around her fingers. She can feel your walls trembling around them and from experience knows that you’re close to coming a second time.

She pushes both the butt plug and her fingers in deeper, timing her thrusts perfectly so that they form an almost punishing rhythm for you.

You’re unconsciously rocking your hips back and forth, trying to meet your girlfriend’s thrusts to gain the most pleasure out of her actions.

The blonde can’t help adding a third finger, your cunt practically dripping for her.

‘Lau!’ You choke out.

‘Fuck you look so beautiful.’ The striker breathes.

She’s sure you are a work of art. The light sheen of sweat on your body has got her jersey sticking to your skin, both your pussy and ass a mess because of your copious arousal and Laura’s generous use of lube.

Your girlfriend knows heaven’s a thing. She goes there when she touches you.

The specific noises you make, the facial expressions you have when you orgasm…she is confident that only she can draw them from you.

She is in love with worshipping you. Your hips, your lips, everything about you.

The Eintracht Frankfurt player is drawn out of her reverie by the strained moan of her name, accompanied by your uncontrolled clenching around her fingers and toy.

‘Going to come. Please schatz.’ You beg.

Laura smirks. You’re right where she wants you.

‘No.’

You still in a desperate effort to obey her.

But you can’t stop her from teasingly stroking your puffy bud with her thumb. It’s almost too much, pushing you to the brink of your control.

‘Laura please.’ You beg, knowing better than coming without her permission.

Especially when she is in such a dominant mood.

‘No. You won’t come until I am finished with my photos.’

She slips her fingers out of you, eliciting a pitiful whimper.

The German woman is abundantly aware of the way your cunt pulses around nothing, having been stretched open by her.

‘Be good.’ She warns as she picks up her camera once again.

You focus on your breathing, on the pillow beneath your chin. On anything but Laura’s fingers skimming over your skin.

There’s the tell tale click of her Polaroid camera, followed by a whirring sound as it spits out the film.

Your girlfriend takes a particularly close one, wanting to focus on her initials embossed on the plug inside you.

To her, it is a worthy investment and it crosses her mind that she might have to make more similar ones.

The thought of using a new dildo or vibrator on you, with her name on it is an enticing one.

‘Get on your hands and knees.’ She instructs suddenly.

Gingerly, you do as she asks. Not because you’re unwilling too but rather because you’re hyper focused on the movement of the plug within you.

You are so sensitive and as you move, it sends little jolts of pleasure up your spine.

The base of the toy fits snugly against the rim of your hole and Laura can’t help twisting it sharply, just so she can capture the look on your face as she does so.

With a simple press of the shutter button, it’s done and the forward gets to savour your ruined expression as it develops.

‘Please Lau. Please.’ You beg shamelessly.

Your girlfriend hums, ‘Help get me off first.’

Her blue gray eyes meet yours and you nod rapidly.

‘Sit up. I want to come on your thigh.’

You let out a moan, changing positions so that you’re seated on the edge of the bed.

‘Fuck.’ You gasp, as the plug drives into you.

Your chest heaves as you struggle to push the sensations away. Laura said not to come so you can’t.

The cocky look on your girlfriend’s face lets you know that she had planned for it.

She kisses you, her hands cradling your face before she sits herself down on your thigh.

You both moan, the blonde immediately beginning to rub her clit up and down.

‘You’re so good to me.’ She mumbles, when you brace your hands against her hips and tense your muscles so that she has a firmer surface to stimulate herself against.

Laura’s swollen clit is exquisitely compressed by your thigh and she holds onto your shoulders, panting, ‘Feel so good against me too.’

Her motions grow more frantic and you leave little love bites on her chest, nipping and kissing her delicate skin.

Your fingers dig into her hips as you hold her steady and the striker cries out when you suck one of her nipples into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around it till it stiffens. Then you repeat the process on her other nipple.

Your girlfriend groans as you do so, her arousal coating your thigh.

There is so much of it and Laura’s breathing begins to grow shaky. Her grip on your shoulders tighten and she lets out a soft grunt as she works to reach her climax.

‘Are you close?’

‘Almost!’ She pants.

You smile, pushing the blonde’s sweaty hair aside to gain access to her neck.

There, you place lingering kisses and whisper about how much you love her, how much you love her riding your thigh until she sucks in a harsh breath.

Your striker trembles through her orgasm and drops her head down on your shoulder.

She’s clearly tired so you help her out, nudging your thigh upwards so that her swollen clit gets extra friction.

It works, the forward moaning your name as she keeps rolling her hips onto your thigh.

Laura lets out a quiet whimper as the last of her high crashes down on her and you lean in to kiss her.

She initiates a second kiss by grabbing the collar of her jersey and pulling you even closer.

When the German woman breaks the kiss, her pretty eyes meet yours for a second before smiles and gets up.

‘Schatz?’

With the distraction of the Eintracht Frankfurt player's soaking pussy off your thigh, you’re now very much conscious of your own arousal.

Laura’s smile turns almost arrogant.

‘On your hands and knees for me.’

The plug within you shifts as you move and you fight the urge to play with it yourself.

‘Lau.’ You exhale shakily once you are in the position she asked of you.

‘My good girl.’ She praises, taking in the way your pink bud is still swollen.

Her gaze never leaves you as she states, ‘You know, I think my last name suits you very well.’

The former Penn State player allows herself another long moment to truly admire you in her jersey before she slips her finger between your folds.

You react beautifully and it’s to both your surprise when your build up comes much faster than usual.

Laura chalks it up to the long time you have spent suppressing your orgasm while you don’t even think about it, far too occupied with how your girlfriend’s attention has drifted to the butt plug.

She runs her fingers over her initials and then firmly tugs on it.

‘Laura!’ You moan and she continues manipulating it with one hand, the other slipping into your other hole.

She has two fingers knuckle deep inside you and she pushes them into you, over and over again.

‘You’re doing so well for me. Letting me stretch you open, letting me use you.’

The thoroughly sinful noise that escapes you at her words, has the forward savouring it and the rush of wetness that promptly coats her fingers.

She thinks you’ve come for a second but the way you begin to beg proves otherwise.

‘So close Lau. I gotta come, please can I come?’

Then she realises that you must really like being told how both your holes are being fucked by her.

She can’t help slipping a third finger into you as a reward.

‘Laura…’ You choke out.

You barely manage to stay on your hands and knees, your arms nearly giving out beneath you.

‘I need to come Lau. Please I-I can’t hold it.’

It’s so much, the constant waves of pleasure that your girlfriend delights in giving you.

As if to prove your point, the blonde curls her fingers inside you and you make a distressed whimper, your walls squeezing around her fingers uncontrollably.

Laura presses down hard on your butt plug and your clit.

‘Come then.’

You sob, unable to keep yourself on your knees this time.

Crying messily, you collapse onto the bed.

The striker keeps pumping her fingers in and out of you, intrinsically drawing out your climax for as long as she can until you reach behind and tap on her wrist frantically.

‘Too sensitive.’ You pant.

Laura gently withdraws her fingers immediately, placing delicate little kisses all over your back.

While your breathing settles, your girlfriend gets her camera out and uses the last of her film to capture the fucked out bliss on your face.

‘Absolutely beautiful.’ She murmurs as she looks through the viewfinder.

Then she keeps the Polaroid camera away properly and turns her full attention to you.

‘Are you okay baby?’

You’re still panting but you turn onto your side, smiling tiredly up at Laura.

‘Completely perfect.’

The blonde presses an affectionate kiss onto your forehead.

‘Roll over and tuck your knees up.’ She gently instructs.

It’s not easy because your body is sore but you manage.

Your girlfriend lightly taps on your ass, ‘Bear down for me.’

Groaning quietly, you try to get your muscles to cooperate.

Laura sees you struggling and grasps the plug carefully, pulling on it.

You gasp at the oversensitivity and strain harder, forcing the butt plug to finally slip out of you.

‘Good job.’ She praises, taking it and setting all the used toys aside to be cleaned.

Truly exhausted now, you flop down and starfish yourself out on the bed.

The striker grins, leaning over you and kissing you.

‘Ich liebe dich.’ She murmurs against your lips.

‘I love you too.’ You promise.

Full of adoration, your girlfriend brushes sweaty strands of hair out of your face.

‘Do you want me to run you a bath? Or just clean you up with a warm washcloth?’

‘Washcloth please schatz. I think I’d fall asleep in the bath.’ You laugh.

Laura giggles, sneaking in another kiss.

‘Washcloth it is then.’

******

The German woman knows she can be silly and possessive. Even after the night you've shared, she can’t help the immense self-satisfaction that swells within her as she watches you.

You’re wearing her hoodie, eating breakfast that she made, in her bed, with hickeys she has generously marked you up with.

‘Lau.’ You amusedly tease, eyeing her knowingly.

‘I can’t help it.’ She shrugs with pink tinted cheeks.

Chuckling, you get her to settle down next to you.

‘Eat schatz.’

‘No. No. I made it for you.’ She protests.

The smile on your face grows bigger, the kind of smile that you reserve just for Laura.

‘We can share. Come on, you know I can’t finish all these eggs and fruit.’

With a fond roll of her eyes, your girlfriend gives in.

She lets out a contented sigh as she chews on the mouthful of eggs that you feed her.

Thoughtfully, she says, ‘I’m a brilliant cook.’

‘A brilliant photographer too.’ You add, suddenly growing shy at the thought of the photos the blonde had taken of you.

They’re kept safely by her now, just like your set of hers are by you.

Completely sure of what’s on your mind, your girlfriend uses a finger to delicately tilt your face towards her.

‘Only when I have the most beautiful of subjects.’ She whispers.

There’s no hiding how intense your blush is after that and Laura giggles brightly, planting small kisses all over your face. Just to convey how incredibly much she loves you.

German Translations:

schatz - sweetheart

ich liebe dich - i love you

[asahicore]

how to get back at your ex - lhs (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis. When you catch your boyfriend of four years cheating on you on the day of your anniversary, your first reflex is to get black-out drunk by yourself at a bar near your place. There, you run into your colleague and close friend Heeseung, and together, you come up with a plan to get back at Sunghoon for what he did. But as you carry out your pranks with Heeseung, you realize that maybe, what they say about love is true - sometimes, it is right there in front of you, patiently waiting for you to recognize to it.

genre. f2l, coworkers au, mainly fluff and smut but also some angst, heeseung is crazy about reader and sunghoon is the asshole cheating ex

word count. 19.9k

a/n. you’re probably thinking why the hell is there a cat pic between the 2 heeseungs… just read further and it’ll make sense 😇 hello everyone and welcome back to another repost from my old blog bc i currently have no time to write something new.. maybe next week will be the first fic of the 100 kisses event! but no promises 🥰 anyways i really enjoyed going over this again so i hope y’all like it and as always pls lmk what u think ok bye love ya

Park Sunghoon, that fucking bastard. You were going to kill him. If your hangover didn’t kill you first, that is.

You wake up with a pounding head and an unquenchable thirst, groaning at the awful sensations you knew you wouldn’t be able to get rid of for the whole day. But worse than the dry mouth and the ringing in your ears, you had a broken heart, and to your disappointment, the alcohol hadn’t managed to glue it back together. If anything, it had only deepened the cracks and made you drown in self-pity. You felt terrible physically but you also felt sorry for yourself: what had made you think drinking four bottles of soju to yourself and probably double as many cans of beer would help you get over your asshole of a now ex-boyfriend Park Sunghoon?

You manage to sit up on your bed, eyes half-open from the bright sunlight that your thin curtains failed to keep from entering the room. You realize you’re completely naked, which doesn’t surprise you as you have a habit of completely undressing and collapsing in bed after a night out, never bothered enough to put on some pajamas or take your makeup off. Your room looks the same as always, but there’s a scent in your bed which you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s familiar, yet it feels odd, smelling it here. You turn your head towards your bedside table and notice a watch that clearly isn’t yours lying there. You pick it up and examine it more closely: you’ve definitely seen it before, but on who?

You manage to sit up on your bed, eyes half-open from the bright sunlight that your thin curtains failed to keep from entering the room. You realize you’re completely naked, which doesn’t surprise you as you have a habit of completely undressing and collapsing in bed after a night out, never bothered enough to put on some pajamas or take your makeup off. Your room looks the same as always, but there’s a scent in your bed which you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s familiar, yet it feels odd, smelling it here. You turn your head towards your bedside table and notice a watch that clearly isn’t yours lying there. You pick it up and examine it more closely: you’ve definitely seen it before, but on who?

The small clockarms of the watch let you know it’s 7:46 a.m. - you have no time to give any more thought to who might be the owner of this watch. You scramble out of bed, not wanting to be any more late for work than you already are. As you wash your face and brush your teeth, you curse yourself for drinking yourself into oblivion on a Tuesday, of all nights. Now you were going to have to face the whole office with one of the worst hangovers you’d ever had in your seven years of legal drinking.

As you enter the office and walk to your desk, you feel your colleagues’ stares and pitiful looks. You check the time on your phone: you weren’t late, had somehow gotten lucky enough to arrive at 8:30 on the dot, so why were they looking at you like that? Was it the sunglasses? You’d worn them in hopes of hiding your tired, puffy eyes, but they were probably just making you more noticeable.

You sit down at your desk and hold your head in your hands for a few seconds, catching your breath from having run all the way from the bus stop to your office building, and mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead. When you raise your head, two of your colleagues are standing next to you, looking at you with sympathy in their eyes. Your eyebrows perk at the sight of them, and you’re wary of what they might be about to say.

One of them, Miyeon, sighs, and starts speaking first. “Y/N…” she sighs again. “We just wanted to let you know that we’re here for you. We’ve heard about… you know,” she says. You slowly nod and turn your head away from them. The realization that everyone knows about your breakup with Sunghoon hits you, and no matter how nice your coworkers are, right now, you just want to get as far away from them and their unwelcome pity as possible.

“What he did,” the other one, Yuqi, picks up, “is really terrible. You know how rumors travel fast here, and, well, we’ve all decided we wouldn’t talk to him unless it was work-related,” she says, and you try not to scoff. As if work wasn’t the only thing they talked to him about anyway. Still, you know it’s coming from a good place, so you muster a smile and thank them, saying you appreciate it. You hope they’re done and will leave, but they hover around your desk, so you turn your gaze back to them with a questioning look.

Miyeon puts her hand on your shoulder. “You know… this happened to me too, a few years back. I know how shit it feels, to have someone you love and you thought loved you cheat on you. If you ever need anything, I’m here,” she says, and you give her a small but genuine smile this time.

“Yeah, anything,” Yuqi chimes. “Whether you wanna talk about it, or get drunk,” and you try not to visibly cringe at the idea of alcohol, “or punch him, just call Miyeon or me. Or both of us. We’re menaces together,” she says, and the three of you laugh.

“Thanks, guys. I’m glad you’re here.”

As you watch them head back to their respective desks, you feel somebody else staring at you. When you meet eyes with Heeseung, his face perks up and he gives you a shy wave. You’ve known Heeseung for ages, having joined the company as interns and getting promoted to full-time employees at around the same time. You’ve seen that face and that smile almost everyday for the past four years now, yet today it feels different. He’s never waved shyly at you, as if he was excited yet embarrassed to see you. You don’t mean to frown at him, but you’re so confused about the sudden change in how you see him that you can’t help it. His hand drops and he awkwardly turns his gaze back to his computer. You keep staring at him, trying to recall something that might explain this shift in his behavior. It was fine yesterday at the office… Could it have happened after work?

You try to go through the events of the previous day one-by-one in your head. Wanting to prepare something special for your four-year anniversary with Sunghoon, you’d gotten off work a bit early, a skip in your step. But when you came face-to-face with him kissing another woman in one of the stairwells, you halted straight in your tracks. You’d just stared at each other for thirty seconds, one surprised they’d been caught, the other trying to figure out whether their eyes were deceiving them or not. Sure, your relationship with Sunghoon wasn’t always perfect, but you hadn’t thought it was so bad he’d need to go stuff his tongue down somebody’s else throat - and that at your shared workplace, too. It’s like he wasn’t even trying to hide it, like he wanted you to find out. The embarrassment and humiliation were almost worst than the pain and betrayal.

“Y/N…” he started, making you snap out of it and realize that yes, this was your boyfriend of four years you had just seen kissing another woman. You took a step back as he moved towards you, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Y/N,” he repeats, “I’m- Listen, this isn’t- Let me just explain-” he scrambled for an excuse, but nothing came out. There was no justification for this.

“Save it, Sunghoon,” you spat. “Whatever you have to say for yourself, I don’t wanna hear it.” You continued past him down the stairwell, ignoring his pleas for you to stay and hear him out.

“Y/N, please, just give me a minute to-”

“No, Sunghoon!” you almost screamed out, turning around to face him. “You can go fuck yourself.” You hadn’t let yourself cry in front of him, not wanting to appear more pitiful than you already felt. As soon as you got in your car, you burst into tears, gripping the steering wheel as you sobbed like a baby.

You shake your head at the fresh and painful memory, not wanting to dwell on it any further. You’ll probably feel like shit for the upcoming weeks or months, so you’ll have plenty of time to rehash the painful memory later on.

After that, everything is a bit of a blur. You remember managing to get yourself home without crashing your car despite your tear-induced fuzzy vision, then throwing your bag and coat somewhere on the floor and immediately opening a bottle of wine, gulping most of it down in a pathetically short amount of time. And that’s about it.

The overwhelming emotions you were feeling along with the fact that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch that day made the alcohol go straight to your head, and you were drunk very quickly. Foggy bits of your night flash in your mind: picking up your stuff and heading out, sitting at the counter at the nearby bar, chatting animatedly with someone else. The memories are hazy and nothing is coming back to you precisely, no matter how hard you try to focus.

You realize you had been frowning at Heeseung the whole time you were recalling the evening’s events. He looks up at you and returns your frown, seemingly upset at the look you were giving him. You suddenly see his face in your mind, except the Heeseung you picture then is different from the one you see everyday. He’s still in his work clothes, but the tie has been discarded and the top buttons have been opened. He’s smiling lopsidedly at you, as if he too has a few drinks in his system.

That’s when it hits you: you were with Heeseung yesterday night. Your frown turns into a suspicious gaze, which he imitates, tilting his head to the side as he peers at you. You text him to meet you in the break room in five, hoping he could fill in the blanks. You desperately needed a coffee anyway.

In the break room, you gulp down a bottle of water while you wait for the coffee to be ready. Heeseung struts in a minute later, a smirk you’ve never seen before on his face. He’s heading straight towards you, and your eyes widen when he doesn’t stop at an appropriate distance from you, just keeps walking until he’s towering over you. He’s definitely acting weird today.

“Miss me already?” he says as he leans in close to you, making the small of your back hit the counter behind you. The sudden proximity with your friend makes your eyes go even wider. He’d never been so close before and you could smell his cologne on him, an oddly familiar scent.

“W-what?” you stutter out. Registering your confused face, Heeseung takes a quick step back and starts fiddling with his thumbs, avoiding your gaze. His demeanor is a total 180 from the one just a second ago, and the change gives you whiplash.

“Sorry, I just- I thought since last night, you know, you would maybe want me to, I don’t know- I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me…” he trips over his words, still not looking at you. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out, trying to make sense of the situation. You look down at his nervous hands and notice he’s not wearing the watch he usually has on everyday.

The watch, his scent, his strange awkward yet flirty behavior, the fact that you’d remembered seeing him last night… Everything is starting to piece together. You gesture between the two of you. “Last night… did we…?” you ask tentatively, hoping he’d get the message.

He looks up at you. “Do you not- do you not remember?” he says, disappointment in his voice.

You cover your mouth with both of your hands as you gasp in shock. How could you have hooked up with your friend and colleague of five years and not even remember it?

Heeseung’s head drops and he lets out a dejected scoff. “Guess you don’t.”

You take a step towards him as you raise your hands, trying to defend yourself. “No, no, I do, a little bit. It’s just all… very fuzzy,” you say, hoping it’ll make things a bit better. You clear your throat. “Could you, um, tell me what happened exactly last night? Might help me fill in the gaps.” You smile at him but he doesn’t return it; he just sighs.

“Sure,” he says, and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “You know Jake and Jay?” he asks, and you nod. You’d met Heeseung’s friends at a few parties he’d hosted. “Well, we were out drinking last night ‘cause Jay got promoted. When we got to this bar, I saw you drinking by yourself at the counter so I invited you to come and sit with us, and you said yes. You looked really upset, but you got so excited as soon as you saw us.”

A scene suddenly flashes in your mind. You were losing yourself in your thoughts as you sat alone at the bar, two empty bottles of soju in front of you. Your head that had been resting in your palm was about to slip and hit the counter when you felt a hand clasp your shoulder.

“Y/N!” a familiar voice shouted excitedly, and you turned your head to find Heeseung grinning at you. The sight of him brought an immediate smile to your face, and you got up to engulf him in a hug.

“Hey!” he called out again, and you said ‘hey’ back, your voice muffled from having your face buried in his neck. Had he always smelled this good?

You took a step back and greeted Jay and Jake, who waved back at you, smiling. “What are you doing here all alone?” Heeseung asked, and the alcohol stopped you from coming up with a lie.

“Sunghoon cheated on me,” you answered, pouting. Now that you weren’t sitting and didn’t have Heeseung to lean on, you were swaying a bit. The three boys looked between each other with shocked expressions on their faces, not expecting this to be the reason you were solo-drinking.

Jay and Jake looked at you with sad smiles, saying they were sorry you had to go through that. Heeseung, on the other hand, looked angry. A deep frown made his eyebrows crease as he shook his head. “What an asshole! He has no idea what he just lost,” he exclaimed. Then, putting his arm around you and leading you to another table, he added, “Let’s go, Y/N! Come and drink with us.”

You look at Heeseung standing in front of you in the break room and nod slowly. “Okay, I remember that. Then what?”

“Then we just talked and drank. Jay and Jake left around midnight, but we stayed until the bar closed. I don’t remember myself that well what we talked about, but we definitely talked about Sunghoon, that jerk.”

You cringe at the mention of your ex. “God,” you sigh, “I hope I didn’t cry or wallow or something embarrassing like that.”

“Nothing like that,” Heeseung says, a smile teasing his lips. “If anything, you were cursing his name. You told me about all the shit he did that annoyed you, like how he would always forget to buy the milk or how he got overly mad at you for putting the pots back in the wrong cupboard. You were absolutely enraged. And so was I, to be honest. Look,” he says, pulling out his phone, “we made a list of ways to get back at him.”

He hands you his phone, the Notes app open. You read it out loud.

“How to get back at Y/N’s ex, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Disclaimer: none of this can back-fire against Y/N, so they must be small things that will mess up his everyday life but can’t be traced back to her, i.e. no keying his car or TPing his place, as satisfying as those things would be.”

You let out a chuckle. “We really thought this through, didn’t we?”

Heeseung laughs as well. “Yeah, I’m not sure how we did that considering how drunk we were.”

You start reading the list, all of its boxes left unticked. “Go into his office and mess up his paperwork. Buy a bunch of keys on Amazon, write his phone number on them and lose them all over town. Change the labels on his shower products and hide his TV remote when Y/N hands him back his stuff. Make him regret what he did.”

You look up at Heeseung. “These are pretty good ideas, actually. He always needs everything to be super organized, so he would definitely freak out at some of these. And the keys one would just make anyone go insane,” you say with a chuckle.

Heeseung smiles at you. “I know we were drunk when we made this list, but I promised you I would help you get revenge on him. So, if you still want to do it, I’m down. I can’t lie, I really want to see him suffer the consequences for what he did.” You stare at Heeseung for a bit, grateful that he’s willing to help but perplexed as to why he would do it. What would he get from getting back at Sunghoon?

He watches as you stare at him, the left corner of his mouth lifting into a small smirk. The action is simple, but it makes your stomach flip. You blame it on the hangover.

“Let’s do it,” you say, trying to make the tension in the air dissipate. “Let’s make his life hell. For a short while at least. Just until I feel better.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, raising his eyebrows in an amused manner.

“Yeah.” You guys high-five, laughing at the childishness of your plan.

His eyes don’t leave yours for a second and you don't think Heeseung’s ever held eye contact with you for such a long time - the way it makes you feel is too unfamiliar and you have to look away. After a small pause, you timidly ask, “By the way, did we- last night, did we actually, you know…”

“We didn’t,” he says, making you look up at him. “We almost did, but we were both so drunk that we kinda just… fell asleep mid-way.” You slowly nod your head, memories slowly coming back to you for what feels like the hundredth time today. “We made out. Naked. But we didn’t actually have sex,” he finishes, finally averting his gaze from yours.

You remember kissing Heeseung in front of the bar and then running with him to your building, laughing like teenagers, and heatedly making out in the elevator all the way to your apartment, then to your bedroom. You remember bursting into fits of laughter every now and then, the both of you so drunk that you couldn’t take what you were doing seriously. Everything made you laugh: the lipstick stain on his lips because of you, your mismatched underwear, how either of you could barely walk straight and fell on top of each other on your bed. You remember falling asleep, your face buried in the crook of his neck, both of his arms protectively wrapped around your waist.

“How come you weren’t there when I woke up?” you suddenly ask, remembering your empty bed that morning.

“I woke up really early, but you were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you up. I would’ve left a note but I couldn’t find a pen anywhere, so I just… left. Sorry about that,” he apologizes, his hand coming up to the nape of his neck.

“That’s alright,” you say, but you couldn’t help wondering what it would’ve felt like to wake up next to Heeseung. Probably better than what you woke up to this morning, you think.

You’re about to say something when you hear the door open, and Heeseung’s piercing gaze towards the person who just entered tells who it is before you’d even seen him. You turn around to find Sunghoon staring right at you, his eyes already pleading with you.

“Y/N,” he starts, but you cut him off immediately.

“I’ve already told you I don’t want to hear it, Sunghoon. You can save your breath.”

“Can you at least let me apologize, please?” he asks. You look at him, and you’d be lying if you said this didn’t hurt like a thousand little papercuts. You hadn’t let yourself feel anything since last night, preemptively drowning your emotions in alcohol. Now that your ex stands in front of you, trying to apologize, his betrayal and the end of your relationship hits you like a ton of bricks. And it doesn’t feel very nice.

“Did you not hear her? She said she doesn’t wanna hear it,” Heeseung steps in, but you take his wrist, not wanting the two of them to get into a fight at the office. Heeseung and Sunghoon had never liked each other, your friend deeming Sunghoon wasn’t good enough for you, and your boyfriend judging Heeseung and you were too close for friends.

“It’s alright, Heeseung. Just go back to work, I’ll see you later.” He stares at Sunghoon for another second and turns to you, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with him. You mouth a ‘please’, and he reluctantly walks away. Before he can leave the room, though, he turns back around and says, “Oh, by the way, I think I left my watch at your place. Could you give it to me tomorrow?”

You pivot towards him with wide eyes, cursing him for mentioning it in front of Sunghoon, but he’s not even looking at you. He’s staring right at your ex-boyfriend, clearly having said this just to rile him up. You stutter out a ‘yes’ and Sunghoon starts towards him but you stop him before he can get to Heeseung. The latter finally leaves, a victorious smirk on his face.

Sunghoon’s eyes, who were apologetic just a minute ago, are now burning with anger. “What the hell, Y/N?! Is this your way of getting back at me or something? Getting into bed with the first guy who throws himself at you?”

You glare at Sunghoon, in absolute disbelief at his words. You want to scream, pull out his hair, kick him in the shins, but above all that, you want him to apologize - even though you have no intention of accepting his apology whatsoever. So you close your eyes, breathe out through your nose, and say, “I thought you were here to apologize, Sunghoon.” You open your eyes to see him still visibly angry but trying to stay calm like you. When he doesn’t say anything for a few moments, you add, “For your information, Heeseung and I did not have sex. And even if we did, you lost the right to get mad at me when you slept with somebody else while in a relationship with me. Just say you’re sorry, and leave me the hell alone.”

Sunghoon looks at you, appearing somewhat baffled by how calmly you’re taking things. You were usually sensitive and reacted emotionally and your serenity was throwing him off. He had always been the cool and collected one in your relationship, not you. He doesn’t like this sudden shift in your attitude, and he doesn’t like the fact that Heeseung thinks he can have you now. “You know what? I was going to apologize, because I know what I did was wrong, but I don’t want to anymore. I guess Heeseung was glad you were rid of me so he could finally fuck you, huh?” You flinched at his loud voice and prayed no one else could hear your conversation.

“I just told you we didn’t have sex!” you whisper-shout back. Thankfully, he takes on the same volume as you.

“Then why is his fucking watch at your place?”

“That’s none of your fucking business anymore!”

Sunghoon and you just stare at each other for a few moments, and you fight back the tears pooling in your eyes. You’ve cried a hundred times in front of Sunghoon, and you want him to feel bad for how much he hurt you, but for some reason, it feels like crying in front of him would be giving in. It would be saying, You wanted to hurt me and you did. You wanted me to hate you and now I do.

“Just leave, Sunghoon, please,” you say, voice weak. It takes all you have not to fall to your knees and bawl your eyes out in this break room. Sunghoon calls out your name, and his voice is much softer than it was seconds ago, as if he finally realised just how much he’d fucked up.

You look up at him and a single tear rolls down your cheek. “Please, Sunghoon. Leave.” He opens his mouth and closes it again twice, lost as to what to say anymore. Finally, he just leaves silently, and you’re immensely disappointed but not in the least surprised. You’d always fought for your relationship, fixed things when they had gone wrong, apologized first after a fight even when it wasn’t your fault, and Sunghoonhad never returned your commitment more than half-heartedly. You’d foolishly hoped that maybe, this time, after such a big mess, he’d want to make things better.

You watch him walk away, taking a moment to gather yourself in the break room. When you finally muster the courage to leave the room and go back to your desk, you almost walk past Heeseung who had been waiting right outside the room this entire time. A worried look in his eyes, he asks if you’re okay.

“Let’s ruin this asshole’s life,” you say, and Heeseung grins at you.

—

That day at lunch, you and Heeseung start scheming. Hunched over your pasta salad, you discuss the first step of your evil plan, namely, ‘go into his office and mess up his paperwork.’

“Easy. We sneak in there when everybody’s left, and we fuck his shit up,” Heeseung says, stealing some of your lunch.

“What if somebody is working late?” you ask, nudging his fork away with your own.

“Well we’re not gonna barge in there. We’ll check that the room is empty.”

You hum. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Heeseung looks up at you, registering your hesitant expression. “What? Already deflating?” he asks, a grin on his face. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be harmless fun… mainly.”

You meet his eyes and let yourself be convinced again. You lean in a bit closer, and he mirrors your action. “If we do this, we have to be subtle about it. We can’t just throw his papers all over the place, that’ll be too obvious and he’ll probably figure out I did it.” Heeseung nods his head, urging you to go on. “We need to put some files in the wrong folders, hide his color-coded post-its, exchange the lids on his pens, that kind of stuff. It’ll make him go crazy.” You bite down on your lip, trying to suppress your excited grin, but you can’t help it. All these years, you’d been subjected to Sunghoon’s obsession with having things neat and in order, no matter how tedious it was. The idea of him freaking out over a stapler in the bottom drawer instead of the top one brings a smile to your face, even though you know how petty such a prank was.

Some colleagues join you at the table, and you spend the rest of lunch chatting about work and making small talk. All throughout the afternoon, Heeseung and you exchange sneaky glances and giggle at the eye contact, both filled with childish excitement for your evening plans.

Eventually, your colleagues start trickling out, and by 7 p.m., only you and Heeseung are left. He joins you at your desk and tries to distract you from your work for half an hour, making stupid jokes and pointing at non-existent faults in your files. You think he must be starting to be bored out of his mind when he starts humming to ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’, so you pack away your stuff, shut your computer and announce it is time for the prank. He jumps up from his seat with a huge grin, shouting out, ‘Let’s go!’ before marching out of the office. You watch him go with an endeared smile, shaking your head at his antics.

You walk side by side towards Sunghoon’s office, looking around to make sure you don’t walk past anyone on your way there. The whole floor seems to be empty, and you get there without being noticed. You enter his office, the both of you tip-toeing to Sunghoon’s desk for dramatic effect, but quickly burst into a fit of giggles when you realize how stupid you must look. Lucky for you, everybody’s already left: every seat is empty and the lights are off, the whole office basking in the glow of the moon.

Heeseung lets out a low whistle upon seeing Sunghoon’s desk. As you’d described, it is very neatly arranged, to a point that it seems almost obsessive. Every load of paper is stacked so perfectly into place that if you peered at it from above it would look like there was only one sheet of paper, each pencil has been freshly sharpened, and he’s got three to-do lists (a daily one, a weekly one and a monthly one) on color-coded post-its. There isn’t a thing out of place.

“God, was he as much of a control freak in your relationship as he is at work?” Heeseung muses, peering in horror at your ex’s desk.

You can’t help but laugh at the comment, even though the truth behind it almost makes you wince. “Yeah, he kinda was. He would decide on every little thing we did, whether it was what we ate that night or how I should organize the cutlery drawer in my apartment.”

Without missing a beat, he deadpans, “How could he. Everyone knows you should never mess with someone’s cutlery drawer.”

You look at each other for a second, and you weren’t sure whether he was being serious or not; but when you see a small smile appearing on his face, the both of you dissolve into laughter at his stupid joke. Maybe the adrenaline of what you’re doing is also part of the reason why it takes you a few moments to calm down, but when you do, it hits you that you haven't laughed so much in a long time. Heeseung and you have been good friends for a while, and you’ve always known he was funny; but spending more time with him makes you realize just how giggly he makes you.

The realization fills your heart with warmth but you don’t want him to notice the growing blush on your cheeks, so you turn towards the desk, pretending to analyze its contents some more. You take a long look at it and decide where you should start.

You pick up the sheet of paper at the top of the neat stack on the desk and place it randomly somewhere in the pile. Heeseung snorts at the seemingly insignificant action and you can’t help but think it’s ridiculous as well, but you know it’ll strike a nerve in Sunghoon.

He joins you closer to the desk and starts picking up random objects only to move them by an inch or placing them in one of the drawers. You do all the things you said you would: exchange the pen lids so that he’d take a red pen thinking it was a black one, stick his post-its underneath the desk like schoolkids do with used chewing-gums, and slightly mess up his files. Neither of you can stop laughing at how ridiculous you’re both being; you thought you had this great idea for a prank, but here you are, hiding a pencil sharpener. When Heeseung simply flips over Sunghoon’s pencils so that they are eraser-up rather than tip-up, you hit your limit of stupid things you could do. You burst out laughing, bent over and clutching your stomach. Heeseung can’t help but follow you in your laughter, loving how much you’re enjoying this prank.

You’re barely catching your breath when you see the light from a flashlight appear at the door and you hurriedly grab Heeseung’s wrists, bringing him down with you to hide underneath the desk. You hear footsteps approaching, soon followed by a booming voice: “Hello? Is anyone here?”

It’s the security guard - either he’s doing his regular night rounds, or he’s heard the ruckus you and Heeseung are causing. You hear him mutter something under his breath, but quickly enough, he walks away. When you hear the door close behind him, you release a breath you’d been holding for way too long, and the feeling of your nervousness dissipating all at once makes you let out a laugh. You meet Heeseung’s eyes only to find him staring back at you with wide eyes, and that’s when the reality of the position you’re currently in hits you.

You’ve still got a tight grasp on his wrists and you’re holding them up to your chest, so that the two of you are sitting face-to-face, crammed close together under the desk. You realize just how close he is when he releases a shaky breath and you can feel it fan on your lips. Your heart starts to pound at the proximity, and with how close he is you’re scared he might hear it. His eyes drift down to your lips and you feel panic bubbling inside of you: what if he actually tried to kiss you?

You hastily release his wrists and try to get up from under the desk, but you’re so distraught that your head hits it, making you yelp out in pain.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Heeseung asks, emergency in his tone, and he immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders to stabilize you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, it was just a small whack,” you say, even though you feel a bit dizzy, which you prefer to think is because you hit your head rather than because of Heeseung’s gaze mere moments ago.

“That sounded like more than a small whack. C’mon, let’s go get something cold for that, you’ll get a bump on your head otherwise.” He gets up and extends his hand out to you to help you do the same, and you stupidly stare at it for a few seconds before finally taking it. He guides you to the elevator, and there he lets go of your hand to put an arm around you. You don’t have the heart to tell him you can stand up on your own. You garner a few weird looks from the security staff as you leave the office building, but ignore them and hurriedly walk to the convenience store across the street.

“Sit down here, I’ll go get something for your head.” He sits you down on the little stairs in front of the store and puts his jacket over your shoulders, heading inside before you can protest. He’s back in less than five minutes, a pack of frozen peas and two ice cream cones in his hand.

“I saw these next to the peas and I couldn’t help myself,” he says with a sheepish smile. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

He was holding up the two cones in front of his face, waiting for you to choose. Your heart skips a beat at the simple but sweet gesture; when buying food, Sunghoon would never ask for your preferences, assuming you’d want the same as him.

You take the frozen peas and the vanilla ice cream, thanking him in a small voice. The cold of the peas immediately appeases the pain and the ice cream tastes sweeter than usual. The two of you sit in silence for a while, occasionally humming and swinging in rhythm to the music playing in the convenience store. In this moment, you feel oddly peaceful.

From your side view, you notice Heeseung turning his head to look at you. You mirror his action and find an amused glint in his eyes. “Are you satisfied with our work?” he asks.

You look ahead of you, thinking for a small moment. The adrenaline of doing the prank has worn off, and you try to see how you feel now that it’s over. “Yeah. I think I am,” you say, turning to look at him again. You’re no stranger to Heeseung’s features: you’ve seen him almost everyday for the past four years of your life. When you close your eyes, you can easily picture his face, his eyes, his smile in your mind. Not that you’ve made particular notes of his habits, but you know how his eyes crease at the corners when he laughs really hard and how he seems to unconsciously raise one of his eyebrows when he talks about something he’s interested in.

But tonight, he looks different. You don’t know if it’s because of the way he’s looking at you or if it’s how the LED lights of the store sign are hitting him perfectly, making him look like he comes straight from a rom-com, but somehow, right now, you’re not looking at your colleague Heeseung. You’re looking at your friend Heeseung, the one who agreed to help you get revenge on your ex, the one who got you a pack of frozen peas for your insignificant injury, the one who shivered at your touch and looked at your lips not fifteen minutes ago. You find yourself wondering what it would’ve been like if he’d actually leaned in to kiss you. Would his lips be as soft as they look?

You shake your head, trying to rid your mind of such thoughts: your break-up was not even a week ago and you were in no state to get back into a relationship so quickly. It wouldn’t end well for either of you. So you turned away from him, escaping his gaze that made you feel too many things you didn’t have the strength to understand.

Heeseung nudges your shoulder with his. “I hope it makes you feel better knowing that he’ll get to the office with an unorganized desk tomorrow morning.”

You chuckle, but the mention of Sunghoon still makes your heart sting. Nothing you do will ever be enough to hurt him like he hurt you, but you don’t see much point trying to do that, anyway. Making his life a bit worse for a while will have to do. “It does,” you simply say, not wanting to dive into complicated emotional territory. You were thankful enough that Heeseung had helped you out tonight, you didn’t want to put your baggage on his shoulders as well.

When you’re both done with your ice creams and your head feels better, you decide to call it a night and head to the building parking lot together. Your cars aren’t parked on the same level, but Heeseung insists on walking you to yours first. You hug him goodbye, and you intend it to be a short hug, but he snakes his arms around your waist, bringing you close to him. You’re a bit taken aback at first, but his scent is comforting and you wrap your arms around his neck, grateful for the warm hug.

“Thanks for tonight, Heeseung. Really,” you say, voice a bit muffled from having your face buried in his shoulder.

“Of course, Y/N, anytime.” You don’t really want to pull away, but you also don’t want things to get awkward if the hug lasts too long, so you lean back, hiding your disappointment at the loss of warmth. You fumble around your bag for your keys and hold them up with an embarrassed chuckle when you finally find them. Heeseung is looking at you with a sweet smile and you curse your damn heart for pounding so foolishly, body and brain at odds with each other. With a last quick ‘bye’, you get into your car, wave him goodbye, and drive away, releasing a shaky breath.

You see Heeseung in your rearview mirror, hands in his pockets, looking at his feet as he kicks a pebble on the ground, and you think you even see a grin on his face.

You smile the whole way home.

—

Heeseung pours himself a cold, well-deserved beer as soon as he gets home. He flops down on an armchair in his living room, not even bothering to turn the lights on; the faint glow of the streetlights outside will have to suffice. He unbuttons the top of his shirt and undoes his belt, getting himself more comfortable.

You haven’t been off his mind for a second since you parted ways half an hour ago. To be fair, you haven’t been off his mind much since you too met way back when. He can still picture you, four years ago, as a fellow fresh intern, your curious eyes and polite manners he’d found so endearing. The both of you were often tasked to work on projects together, and he’d admired your drive, hard work and attention to detail since the beginning. But then he’d started to notice other things than your professionalism, like how you’d frown when you really liked the food you were eating or how your lips would form a straight line when you tried to not laugh at his stupid jokes. He’d quickly started to make those jokes just in hopes of seeing your cute attempt at hiding a smile or, even better, hearing your laugh. He’d ignored the swelling in his heart and the sweat in his palms every time he saw you as long as he could, until he realized he shouldn’t have ignored them. He’d convinced himself he wasn’t jealous of the way your whole face perked up whenever Sunghoon entered the room, but when you told him you were officially dating that asshole, and how completely smitten with him you looked, he couldn’t deny it anymore. Heeseung had the stupidest, fattest, most unachievable crush on you.

He’d had to see you experience your highest highs and your lowest lows with Sunghoon, even though he knew you always tried to keep your relationship problems at home and not bring them in the office. He’d tried to be as good a friend as he could, never letting onto his feelings for you. If he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, he’d settle for being what you wanted him to be.

When he found out what Sunghoon had done, he was angry beyond words. He wanted to punch that jerk, but more than that, he wanted to make you feel better. So that night, he let you drink as much as you needed, he made you laugh as hard as he could, he agreed to your revenge plan, and when, outside of the bar, you drunkenly pressed your lips to his, he let you. He let you take him home, and take off his shirt, and he’d be lying if he said he was only doing it for you; he has dreamt of your hands on him for the longest time now, but he didn’t want for it to happen like this. So he easily got you to stop and fall asleep before you could do anything you’d regret the next morning.

When he woke up next to you, he felt his heart longing for something that is so close and yet so far out of reach. He softly tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, making you whimper in your sleep, and it took everything in him not to hold you in his arms as hard as he could right there and then. But he didn’t want to wake you up, and he didn’t think he wanted to be there when you woke up either; he wouldn't know what to say, how to explain his presence. He wanted a few hours to think and talk to you in the office later.

We all know what happened after that.

Now, he doesn’t know whether he’s inching towards his goal or he’s fucked everything up. He can tell you’re behaving differently around him; he’s noted everything about you, so of course he’d notice as soon as something changes with you. He hoped it wasn't creepy that he complimented your haircuts every time you got one without you telling him first.

He thought everything between you might have been ruined when you banged your head on the desk in shock when he looked at your lips, but your little moment in front of the convenience store and in the parking lot made him hopeful that your friendship might shift into something more. He knows you’ve too recently broken up with Sunghoon to be ready for a new relationship, and he’s waited four years, so he can wait a few months more; but he also wants to make sure you won’t go anywhere else now that he has a chance. He doesn’t think he could forgive himself if he let you go again.

—

The next day at work, you hear gossip going around the office about an apparent ‘tantrum’ that Sunghoon threw upon arriving at his desk. He was going on and on about his post-its being gone, his pens and pencils being all messed up and his files being disorganized. Everybody thought he was crazy, though, because his desk looked just as neat as usual. You and Heeseung exchange a knowing look, and you’re quite proud that it had the effect you had hoped for.

You don’t talk about doing another prank until the next Friday; you do want to do another one, but you think it’s best to not have them too close together, and you’re not sure if Heeseung wants to help you with it. You make a note to mention it to him after the weekend.

As you’re about to leave work, Miyeon and Yuqi enthusiastically step towards you, wide grins on their faces. “Y/N!” Yuqi calls out, making you stop in your tracks.

“Hey, guys! What’s up?” you said, sensing what was coming. They exchange a look before looking back at you.

“Come get drinks with us, please!” Miyeon says, and before you can protest, she adds, “we know you’ve had a tough week, but we think it’d be a good idea for you to get your mind off of things!”

You smile a bit sadly at them, genuinely appreciating their concern but wanting to spend a nice, quiet evening alone.

“No. Nope, don’t give us that look, it means you want to say no,” Yuqi scolds.

You sigh and say, “I’m really sorry, guys. Thank you so much for the offer, and I promise we’ll go out together soon, but I don’t think I can tonight.”

They sigh as well and take turns hugging you, Miyeon saying, “That’s alright, we did expect it a bit.” They start walking out of the office, but not without Miyeon pointing at you with her finger, adding, “But you better keep that promise!”

“I will!” you reply, watching them leave with a smile. You follow soon after and drive back home, looking forward to a tranquil night in.

And it is, until you hear a knock on your front door around 8 p.m. You haven’t ordered any takeout, so who could it be? You’re only wearing a tiny tank top and pair of shorts, so you quickly grab a sweatshirt to cover your figure and open the door. Heeseung is standing there, holding up an Amazon delivery packet in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other.

“Evening!” he beams down at you.

“H-heeseung? What are you doing here?” you ask, stepping to the side so he can come in.

He hands you his things as he enters, then takes off his shoes and jacket. “Well, I overheard at the office earlier that you weren’t going out tonight, and I thought it’d be nice to keep you company.” He notices your surprised face and immediately his eyes widen, stammering, “Oh God, that’s so rude of me, I just completely invited myself over, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’ll leave-”

He tries to take back the packet and the bottle from you but you just giggle at his antics, reassuring him that it’s fine and that he’s more welcome to stay. “I said no to the girls because as sweet as they are, it’d be socially draining to spend the evening with them. It’ll be fine with you,” you said, not realizing how true the words were until they were out of your mouth. Being around Heeseung was effortless, you could just be yourself without having to worry about the clever thing to say or tip-toe around certain subjects.

He grins at you and you try to ignore how pretty his smile is. “I’m glad to know that.”

You tell Heeseung to go sit down in the living room while you go get two wine glasses. When you see him sitting on your sofa, something weird but not entirely uncomfortable settles in your chest. He’s been to your apartment a few times before, for office party after-drinks or for projects with other colleagues, but he’s never been by himself (well, except for Tuesday, but that doesn’t count, you tell yourself), and you’re not unaware of the implications of having an attractive man alone at your place and drinking wine with him.

“What’s in the Amazon bag?” you ask as you put the glasses on the coffee table and start pouring you both a drink.

“Something you’ll be very happy to see,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He opens up the packet to reveal a plastic bag full of keys with a “Ta-da!”. Each key has an unmarked keychain tied to it, and you remember your plan: buy a bunch of keys on Amazon, put his phone number on them and lose them all over town.

You start nodding fervently, a huge smile on your face. “Yes! Part two of the plan shall commence,” you say, and you hand him his glass so you can clink them together. But before that, he raises his hand, looking at you solemnly.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” he starts, making you snort at his fake pompous tone, “to you, Y/N, for not letting that asshole bring you down and still being the coolest person I know.”

You giggle as you clink your glasses with a cheers. You’re surprisingly touched by his words, but you don’t wanna turn the atmosphere all emotional and mushy, so instead, you tease, “I’m the coolest person you know? The people you hang out with must not be very cool then.” You look up at him from your drink with a mischievous smirk, and if you had any idea of the way that look made him feel, you’d probably be blushing hard.

“They are cool,” he insists, “just not as cool as you.” He stares back at you with that glint you can never figure out in his eyes, and it’s too much after five seconds so you look away with a huff.

“Whatever, let’s just get to work.” You go get two pens and plop back down in front of Heeseung, letting the keys spill from the bag onto the couch. The two of you chat and sip on wine while you write down Sunghoon’s phone number on a hundred keys each. He tells you about how he met Jay and Jake in freshman year of college and how they’ve somehow stuck together all this time no matter their differences, and you tell him about your childhood friends you only see when you go home from time to time but often keep in contact with. He brags about his karaoke skills and you make him promise to show you one day; he agrees in an instant. You say you’ve been thinking about getting a cat now that Sunghoon’s not around to complain about his allergy and ‘the mess it would make anyway,’ and Heeseung offers to come and choose one with you at the pet shelter. It’s such a nice thing to do, you think, and you try not to suffocate as your heart grows three times its size.

“Thanks, Heeseung. I’d really like that, actually,” you say, and if he notices that your eyes have teared up a bit, he doesn’t say anything.

“How are you, by the way?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “And don’t give me that bullshit you give everyone at the office. Tell me how you’ve been, really.”

You sigh deeply, willing your heart to get back to its normal size. “I tell everyone I’m fine because it’s so much easier and faster than the truth. I’m not sure how I am, to be honest.” You look up at him and his eyes softly tell you to keep going. “Sometimes I feel like there’s been a weight lifted off my chest and sometimes I feel like I’m gonna crumble under it all. I knew my relationship with Sunghoon was bound to end; we were both obviously getting tired of each other. This might be TMI, but we only had sex like once or twice a month towards the end, like an old married couple,” you say, chuckling a bit awkwardly. You could just blame it on the alcohol. Heeseung lowers his head so you wouldn’t see the blush creeping on his cheeks at the idea of sex with you.

“I think we lost feelings for each other a while ago, but it was easier staying in a fading relationship until we actually had a tangible reason to break up. Guess he provided that for us,” you say with a dry chuckle. “But in a way I’m happy it ended badly, because if we’d broken up amicably, I’m scared I might have had moments where I doubted whether it was the right decision or not. Now I know I’ll never go back to him.”

You wouldn’t go back to Sunghoon - Heeseung hopes you don’t hear his shaky intake of breath at that news. He doesn’t say anything, so you keep going.

“I think I’ve realized that ifI’m upset, it’s because of how humiliating what happened is, not because it actually happened. Does that make sense?” you ask, looking up at Heeseung.

He nods. “Yeah, I think it does. It’s just cowardly, isn’t it? If he wanted a reason to break up, there are a thousand more respectful ways to do it. Talking about it, for one.”

“Exactly. Which I think is why I want to do all this,” you gesture at the keys in front of you, “if I was actually sad because I lost him, I’d just be a crying mess right now. But I just want to piss him off, make him feel some kind of repercussions for what he did. He’s not a suspicious person originally, but I’d love it if this made him think he was being punished by the Gods or something.”

As Heeseung and you continue talking, you both keep shifting in your seats so that you end up cross-legged, facing each other and knees touching. You try not to pay it too much mind but it feels like all the heat in your body has gone to the spot you’re touching and you wonder if it would feel this warm if you touched him anywhere else.

After another thirty minutes, you’re done filling in all the keys and put them back in the bag to spread all over town the next day. Heeseung agrees to a movie, so you prepare some snacks as he gets the movie ready on your TV. When you come back in the living room, he’s got a blanket wrapped around him, lifting it and tapping the seat next to him when he sees you. Your heart melts like ice cream in the sun at the sight, and you curse it for doing so many weird things tonight.

The movie is a rom-com you’ve seen a thousand times, so you use that excuse to focus your attention on the man next to you rather than what’s playing on the TV. You’re scooted close enough to him so that your sides are touching, and your theory from earlier turns out to be true: it feels hot in all the spots your bodies come into contact. You want to fall into him because somehow, you trust him enough to catch you. You settle for resting your head on his shoulder, and his arm comes immediately around you as if he’d been waiting for you to make a move. He starts to rub gentle circles on your shoulder with his thumb and your whole body relaxes under his touch.

You turn your body towards his, and you hesitate for a few minutes because you’re afraid he might hate it but his soft caresses tell you it’s okay, so you shyly put your legs over his lap, your arms coming up to wrap themselves around his neck. “Is this too much?,” you mumble and he tries not to shiver at the feeling of your lips moving against his neck. You’ve been longing to have someone close for months now, but all your attempts at giving Sunghoon your love had been turned down so coldly that you were fearful to try it with anyone else.

“No, no, not at all. You could never be too much, Y/N,” he mumbles into your hair, and your heart races (because it just won’t settle down, tonight) at his words. You don’t think too much about it, though, otherwise your brain might short-circuit.

When you feel your eyelids getting heavy, you gather the strength to say, “I‘m getting sleepy, Hee,” the nickname leaving your lips before you can stop it.

“That’s alright, you can fall asleep,” he whispers back, and drifting off to sleep wrapped up in his arms feels like being in a cloud.

—

The next morning, the sunrise drowns your living room in warm yellow light, and the brightness wakes you up. Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself pressed to Heeseung’s chest. You can feel his heart quietly beating against your cheek and the sound of his soft snores fills the silence in the room. So this is what it feels like to wake up next to Heeseung, you think, and you really like it.

You lean back very slightly to raise your head and get a better look at him. His mouth is wide open, and there’s a small pool of saliva at the corner of his lips, but you’ve never found him more adorable. You suppress a giggle at his cute state and bury your head back into his chest, hugging him a bit tighter. You’re not sure whether you should do this or jump away from him, but the first option feels right. Plus, if you fell asleep like this, he surely wouldn’t mind waking up the same way, right?

Heeseung feels so warm in your arms. Now that you’re awake, you’re having a bit of a hard time staying still. You hike your body up his a little bit, intertwining your legs even more, and engulf your face in the crook of his neck. You take in his scent and it’s almost dizzying. His cologne has practically worn off even though hints of it are still there, but it’s the smell of his skin that makes your mind cloud. It should feel odd, being in such an intimate position with someone you’ve considered a friend and colleague for so many years, but it’s somehow comforting. You smile into his neck, nuzzling your nose a bit further into it.

He squirms a little in his sleep, and he tightens his grip around your waist so that instead of having his arms loosely wrapped around you, he’s now holding you closer to him. He lets out a low hum as he slowly stirs from his sleep and the sound makes your stomach flip. You sigh into his neck and feel him shiver at the feeling. You start rubbing his back and he hums again. “Are you awake?” you murmur softly, lips moving against his skin.

“Mh-hm,” he sleepily replies, slipping his warm hands underneath your shirt. Goosebumps appear where he touches you but your skin is on fire. As your breath gets quicker, you feel something you haven’t felt in a long time bubble in your stomach: need. Right now, you need Heeseung. His hands on you and the proximity of your bodies are intoxicating, but you need more.

The feeling is overwhelming and you don’t know what to do with it; you feel it in the tips of your toes and the palms of your hands, and it makes your head spin. You bring yourself somehow even closer to him and you bury your whole face in his neck, desperate for something, anything, and you hope he gets what you’re trying to convey.

His hands that were resting on the low of your back ride up against your shirt, exposing your back to the cold air. You exhale at his touch, squirming and biting back a whimper when his hands trace the line of your waist, making you arch your back and bringing your chest closer to his. He likes how sensitive you are and caresses you along your sides so he can hear you whine because of him. He’s just touching your back, but it’s sending you into a frenzy, and you can feel wetness pool between your legs and the knot in your stomach get tighter. You hear his breath hitch when you press a soft kiss right underneath his jaw.

“Y/N…” he breathes out, and the thought that he might want you as much as you want him right now makes you double down on your ministrations. Oh, if only you knew. If only you knew how long he’d been waiting for this, and how he thought he might be dreaming it all, not believing that he was actually holding you right now and that he could feel your lips on him.

Your soft kisses turn hungrier and sloppier, and soon you’re leaving wet marks all over his neck and jaw. His hands snake down to your ass, grabbing it tightly as he brings your crotch down onto his, and the friction makes you mewl. You untangle your leg from between his to hook it over his hips so you can feel his growing erection against you even more. As you grind against each other, you’re both breathing and moaning loudly, and his needy whimpers make your brain draw a blank. Keeping one hand on your ass, the other comes up to cup your jaw, making you look up at him, and he kisses you ravenously, tongues meeting in a desperate clash. You moan into the kiss as your hips rock together, his erection rubbing perfectly against your core. You pull back to catch your breath, but keep your lips close together so that you’re breathing each other’s air, making you feel dizzy with pleasure and want. You rake your hands through his hair, tugging at the strands, and he breathes out a curse at the feeling. He dips his hand under your shirt, tracing the outline of your breast with the knob of one of his fingers before playing with your nipple, softly twisting it between his digits.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you moan, “that feels so good.” Your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed with the intense pleasure you’re feeling, and you feel like you might cum without him even touching you down there at all. “How does it feel so good?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know either,” he purrs in your ear. “I think I might cum in my pants like a fucking fifteen year old,” he says, and you choke out a laugh.

“Me too. It just feels so fucking good.” As you utter those words, the knot in your stomach starts to get tighter and tighter, and you feel it might break apart anytime now. “Fuck, Heeseung, I think I’m gonna cum. I can’t cum like this, fuck, it just feels too good.”

Heeseung presses his fingers into your hips, surely leaving marks for you to find later there, bringing you even harder down even harder against his clothed cock, and you whine out at the feeling. “Please, please cum for me, Y/N. It’s okay. Please cum for me,” he begs, and his words send you over the edge. The knot breaks as your orgasm ripples through you, making you moan out a string of curses and Heeseung’s name. He doesn’t stop for a second, desperately chasing his own high and slightly overstimulating you.

“Say my name again, please.”

“Hee- fuck, Heeseung, you cum too, baby,” you stutter, unable to bite back the moans that escape your lips as he continues rutting into you. He brings his forehead to yours, resting them against each other. You kiss him all over his face. “Heeseung, fuck, baby, cum for me.” With one final thrust, his movements still, pleasure written all over his face as he shoots out his release, making a mess all over himself. You kiss him softly on the lips as he comes down from his high, the both of you catching your breaths.

You meet his gaze and burst into a fit of laughter, him following soon after. “Fuck, what was that?” you ask between giggles.

He rakes a hand through his hair then covers his eyes with forearm, grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t know, but it was fucking amazing.”

The two of you stay there for a few moments, arms around each other, basking in the sensation of your orgasms, and you can’t stop smiling. After a few minutes, Heeseung breaks the comfortable silence.

“As much as I’d love to stay like this for hours, I’m really sticky now,” he says with a laugh. “Shall we go get cleaned up?” he asks, a tempting glint in his eyes.

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Head first, I’ll join you in a minute.”

Heeseung nods, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before heading off to the bathroom. You lay there, closing your eyes as you try to make sense of what just happened. You and Heeseung had just gotten off on each other, and it had felt damn good. You wanted more of him; all of the cells in your body were screaming at you to get up and follow him into the shower. But it was also so confusing: you broke up with Sunghoon just a couple weeks ago, and here you were, lusting after your co-worker and friend. You aren’t blind, you’ve always known that Heeseung is an attractive man, but the sudden change in the way you see him these past few days makes you dizzy. Whatever this is, you don’t want it to be because you suddenly feel free and jump at the first man in sight or because you need someone to fill a Sunghoon-shaped hole in your heart. You don’t think it is, but you also don’t fully trust yourself to have your head screwed on right at the moment. All you know is Heeseung deserves better than being someone’s rebound, and you’re scared you won’t be able to give him what he should have.

The sound of the shower turning on wakes you from your thoughts and you get up from the couch, joining Heeseung in the bathroom. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him in all his naked glory. He’s standing back to you as he lets the water run over his head and down his toned back, and you try not to gawk at the muscles there. You want to trace the outline of them with your fingers, you want to feel his shoulder blades move underneath your hands, you want to press kisses down along his spine, you want to see goosebumps on his soft skin at your touch. You want him. But you also don’t want to hurt him.

So for now, you take your clothes off and join him under the hot water that’s already started to fog up the mirror and the glass walls of the shower. He lets out a soft gasp when you place your hands on his waist and he turns around to look at you. He looks just as perfect from the front as he does from behind.

“Hi,” he says quietly, smiling down at you.

“Hi,” you say back, roaming your thumbs over his sides. He leans down to trap your lips in a kiss, and you let him, even wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You open your mouth for him when he traces your bottom lip with his tongue, and you only pull away when the both of you are breathless.

You look down to see that he’s gotten hard again and you both laugh at the sight. “Sorry. Can’t really help it,” he says, grinning. You shake your head and give him a peck on the lips. He could probably slip right in, with how wet you were, but there was a line between you two that you were a step away from crossing, and you didn’t know if you should or not.

“Heeseung,” you call, holding his face in your hands. He hums in response, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch, and your heart feels heavy with unexplainable emotions.

“I’m scared,” you say honestly. He opens his eyes again at your words and his hands come up to cover yours, intertwining your fingers together as he brings your arms down so that they’re hanging at your sides.

“Of what?”

“Of this. Of all the things you’re making me feel that I shouldn’t be feeling right now.” You drop your head, not wanting to see the potential disappointment on his face, but he takes your chin in his hand to bring it back up. The look he gives you makes you feel more naked than your actual lack of clothes.

“Why shouldn’t you be feeling them?” he asks, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You get the sense that he’s not upset at you, however, just genuinely confused. “Because you just got out of a relationship?” he asks, and you nod. “But didn’t you say you lost feelings for him months ago?”

“I did, but it’s still a shock, breaking up after four years of being with someone. I don’t wanna string you along.”

“Y/N, you could drag me through dirt and I’d thank you. I’ll take anything you give me if it means I get to be around you,” he says, and his words pierce right into the deepest crevices of your heart, filling them to the brim. “I mean it. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m desperately in love with you. I haven’t particularly tried to hide it, especially this past week, and I’m sorry, I should’ve realized you’d need time before getting into another relationship. That is, if you’d even want to be with me.” His eyes never leave yours as he confesses his feelings for you. All you feel now are his hands around your waist, the water hitting your skin long forgotten.

“You- You’re in love with me?” you stutter, shocked by the sudden news.

“Yes, but that’s not what’s important here. If it’s time that you need, I’ll give it to you. I’ve been waiting for almost five years now, I can handle another few months.”

“Heeseung…” you start, but all you can do is hug him close to you and bury your face in his neck. Words aren’t enough to express how grateful you are for him.

“I’m sorry if I’ve pressured you. I just think I finally saw a chance and jumped on it, but the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not,” you say into his neck, “you’re not. You could never. Thank you for understanding and being patient.”

“Of course,” he says, keeping an arm around your waist and the other one coming up to stroke your hair. You lean back to take a look at him. How did you not realize how perfect he was all these years?

“I’m sorry. You deserve better than someone who makes you wait while they get their shit together.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy you’re even looking my way at all. Don’t even get me started on how ecstatic I am to be in a shower with you right now,” he says, making you both laugh. You bring your lips to his and he kisses you back like it’s second nature. Before it can get heated again, you pull away and smile at him. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the night sky.

You should feel shy being completely naked in front of Heeseung, but for some reason, it doesn’t faze you at all. The love in his eyes makes you feel like there’s nothing to be shy or embarrassed about. It’s worlds away from Sunghoon’s cold gaze you had gotten used to.

You press some body wash in your hand and lather it all over his torso and back, letting your hands roam down to his butt with a giggle. He does the same thing for you and your heart pounds as you feel his hand all over you. You try not to moan when his palm brushes over your sensitive nipple.

“You’re so pretty, I could eat you right up,” he says as his eyes rake your body up and down, voice lower and eyes darker than they were moments ago. When his gaze meets yours, his face however immediately softens. “But I’ll wait before I do that,” he adds, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

Later, you get out of the shower and dry off, then get ready for the day ahead. You spend it going around the city hand-in-hand with Heeseung. Even though the goal is to spread the keys all over town, it just feels like one day-long date. You let your footsteps take you in any direction, through paved alleys, over bridges and along tramway tracks, making sure to drop keys here and there, sometimes leaving them out in the open or hiding them behind flowerpots, so that they’d be found either in the next hour or in a year.

When you start getting hungry, you buy sandwiches and sodas from a convenience store and sit down by the pond in the park, enjoying the sun on your skin and each other’s presence. You can talk freely about anything with Heeseung without feeling judged in the slightest, and even when you’re rambling on about a show you watched or your latest random obsession, he listens to you like you’re telling him the solution to world peace. He laughs at your jokes and makes you blush with compliments and you don’t even think for a second about the reason you’re doing this in the first place. That is, until you run head-first into him.

You spent another few hours walking around and dropping keys, but got too tired and decided to get an early dinner in a bar-restaurant in the center of town as a reward for your hard work. It’s one of Sunghoon’s favorite places, and you were hesitant to go there at first, but decided that it was time to make new memories and replace bad ones with good ones. The restaurant hadn’t done anything to you, so there was no reason to avoid it. Except that the chances of running into your ex here are somewhat bigger, and of course, he had to be there now of all times.

You’re almost done eating when you see him. Or rather, you hear him. He’s screaming at the TV that’s playing a baseball game and apparently, the team he’s rooting for is losing. At first, you think the sound you hear is a fragment of your imagination: Sunghoon doesn’t get drunk and scream at TVs, especially in public places. Hell, he doesn’t even keep up with baseball. You think it’s just someone who sounds eerily like him, but you turn your head and find him hunched over the bar counter, four empty pints of beer in front of him. Sunghoon doesn’t drink beer, you think.

You gawk at him, in disbelief of his behavior, and soon enough he turns his head and sees you as well. He squints his eyes as if he’s having trouble figuring out whether that’s you or not he’s seeing, and when he confirms it, his eyes go wide and he immediately gets up, heading towards you like a drunk bull towards a red cloth. He’s teetering and you think he might fall down when he gets to your table, holding onto it for dear life.

“H-hey, Y/N,” he says, eyes looking at you but not quite focussed. He doesn’t even spare a glance at Heeseung. This isn’t the man you were dating for four years, you think. This cannot be the same man that organizes his desk maniacally or considers one glass of wine heavy drinking. But it is, and it’s a side of him you’d practically never seen before because he keeps it in the deepest corners of himself. It’s the side of him that lets go of any control, that finally doesn’t care about anything. It’s probably the side of him he hates most.

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

“Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I’m having dinner,” you curtly reply, nodding towards Heeseung. Sunghoon takes a look at the man in front of you, eyes widening then squinting again.

“Heeseung? Seriously?” he says as he clearly tries to suppress burps, slurring his words. “God, I should’ve seen this coming. You always made googly eyes at my girlfriend.”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Sunghoon. Not since you cheated on me,” you say, staring hard at him. His head falls and he drops to a squat, still holding onto the table. He looks back up at you and does something you’ve almost never seen him do before, and definitely never for you.

He cries.

His eyes are red and already puffy from the alcohol, but now tears swell in them as a tear rolls down his cheek and his lips start to quiver. Then all of a sudden, he’s full on sobbing in the restaurant, garnering curious looks from other customers.

“Oh, God,” you say under your breath, holding your head in your hands. There have been so many times he could’ve done this, showed you that he actually cared, but he just had to choose now. When he takes your hand in his and brings it to his face, Heeseung seems to hit his limit. He gets up and you think he’s going to manhandle Sunghoon out of the restaurant, and he does do that, but only after paying for the unfinished meal. When he comes back from the till, he takes Sunghoon up by the armpits and makes him walk to the outside of the restaurant, you following close behind.

The chilly night air hits your face, calming you down slightly. It’s still infuriating to see Sunghoon acting this way, and it takes everything in you not to just punch him in the face when he starts towards you again, trying to take you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really am, please just give me another chance. Or at least let me talk to you! I promise I’ll be better,” he screams out between sobs as Heeseung holds him back from you. You just cross your arms and stare coldly at him, willing the tears forming in your eyes to not fall. If there’s one thing you don’t want him or Heeseung to think, it’s how sad this is making you. Your tears are angry, frustrated ones; not heartbroken ones.

“You’re drunk, Sunghoon, I don’t wanna talk to you right now. Actually, I don’t want to talk to you, ever.”

“I’m not- I’m not drunk, I swear,” he says just before tripping over his own feet, almost face-planting on the pavement had Heeseung not been holding him steady. “I just had a really bad day, people kee- people keep calling me about keys, and I miss you so goddamn much, Y/N. I’m sorry. Plea-please, come back to me.” His words all sound meshed together and it takes effort understanding what the hell he’s saying.

“Why don’t you go to whoever you cheated on me with?”

“She doesn’t- she’s no match for you, Y/N. Please. I miss- I miss you.” You just roll your eyes in response.

He continues begging and making false promises, and you order an Uber after two minutes, not able to take any of this anymore. You sit him down in front of the restaurant, telling him to stay put, then take Heeseung’s hand and start walking away. You don’t even bother checking that he got in the Uber safely; he’s not your responsibility anymore.

You walk in the direction of your apartment. It’s silent for a few minutes until Heeseung speaks up, softly asking you if you’re alright. “I’m fine, just pissed off,” you reply colder than you mean to. You don’t want to take your anger out on Heeseung, but you feel like you’re going to explode if you bottle it in. He tries to get more out of you, to get a glimpse of how you’re feeling, but you’ve spent the last four years not talking about emotions because Sunghoon considered them a nuisance and you don’t have the strength to unlearn that behavior right now. You find yourself snapping at Heeseung when he asks you questions, and he quickly figures out that now is not the best time to talk to you.

You spend the rest of the walk in silence, Heeseung’s presence next to you the only thing keeping you from hitting a wall or screaming into the night. When you get to your apartment building, you’ve calmed down, and you apologize for acting that way towards him.

“I’ve just never seen him like that before, and it makes me so angry that he does this now. The sheer audacity of this man to cheat on me and then make a scene in front of everyone. He’ll never go to that place again, I’m sure,” you say with a dry chuckle.

Heeseung takes you in his arms, resting his chin on top of your head and slowly rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about him. All I can think to explain his behavior is that he has nothing to hold onto now, so he comes back running to you. I can’t lie, I really wanted to punch some sense into him, but I didn’t wanna make anything worse.”

You take a step towards him and nuzzle your face in his chest, warmth spreading all over you. “I had such a good day as well. I’m mad it had to end that way.”

“I know, me too,” he sighs into your hair.

You lean back to look at him and he brushes some hair out of your face. “Thank you so much for today, Heeseung. I had an amazing time. And I’m glad to hear he’s already been bothered about the keys,” you say with a laugh.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he says, placing a kiss at the top of your head.

“I think I want to be alone tonight. Just to think a little bit.”

“Of course. I’ll see you Monday at work, then?” he asks with a smile, which you return.

“See you Monday, Hee.”

He kisses your head a second time and walks away, and you already miss him. You call out to him when he’s a few yards away, and he pivots, still smiling at you.

“What’s the next thing on the list?”

—

The next day, Sunghoon sends you a text thanking you for the Uber and apologizing for his behavior but still asking to meet up so you can talk. You tell him you’ll drop his stuff off at some point after work this week. Then you block his number.

—

Being at work feels different now that you know about Heeseung’s feelings for you. You like to catch him staring at you then tease him about it during your breaks. You have lunch together, laughing hunched over your tupperwares, and if you weren’t so engrossed in each other, you might notice the knowing look Yuqi and Miyeon exchange whenever they see you acting like highschoolers. Now that he doesn’t have to hide how he feels, he gets you coffee every morning and gives you little notes that never fail to make you smile. In the evenings, he texts you about random stuff, and then apologizes about how he might be coming off too strong. You tell him that it’s fine and that you like it a lot; more than you should, probably, but you don’t say that. The two of you aren’t even properly together, yet you’ve never felt so cared for by anyone in your life.

On a Thursday night, you decide to go to Sunghoon’s and drop his stuff off together. At first, you say you should probably go alone, but Heeseung insists on accompanying you.

“I don’t want you going over there by yourself, what if he’s as drunk as last time? Plus, it says it right here that I need to be there for the prank to work,” he argues, and you agree that it’d be reassuring to have him with you. You re-read the list you’d drunkenly made together: Change the labels on his shower products and hide his TV remote when Y/N hands him back his stuff. This is a two-man job, after all.

Once at your apartment, Heeseung loads the trunk of his car with the two boxes of things Sunghoon had left behind and that you’d already gotten ready while you mess around with his shower products. You exchange the shampoo and conditioner labels and empty the bottle of body wash, replacing it with shaving cream. Sure, he’ll quickly figure out what happened and know you’re the one behind it, but you don’t care about that anymore. It didn’t matter that he knew what you were up to; this was the last prank, anyway.

Heeseung drives the both of you to Sunghoon’s apartment. When your ex-boyfriend opens the door, he seems taken aback to see the both of you there but quickly masks it, his poker face back on. Now that’s the Sunghoon I know, you think.

“Hi, Y/N. Heeseung,” he curtly greets, stepping aside so the two of you can come in. “I’m guessing you’re here to return my things?”

“Yes,” you say, looking around the familiar apartment. Nothing’s changed: it’s still as white and tidy and squeaky clean as it’s always been.

“Right. Just put them over there then, that’s fine.” Heeseung puts them down where Sunghoon points, then there’s a silence for a few seconds.

“Well, if that’s it, then…” you start and head for the door, not wanting to be around Sunghoon for longer than you needed to.

“Wait!” he suddenly calls out, making you and Heeseung look at him expectantly. “Y/N, can I uh, can we talk for a minute? Alone?” he asks, poker face suddenly crumbling.

“Um, fine, sure,” you say, and follow him into the kitchen. When his back is turned, you gesture at Heeseung to go into the living room and hide the remote as per the plan. He gives you a thumbs up as you enter the kitchen.

Once you’re in there, you cross your arms, waiting for a clearly struggling Sunghoon to start. “Right. You know I’m bad at stuff like this, so I’ll just make it short,” he says, and you try not to scoff. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am, for how things ended, and for getting drunk and being embarrassing like that the other night.” He shivers at the memory. “I said a lot of things I know I shouldn’t have said, and even though I kinda meant them, I should’ve kept them to myself.

“I don’t have a great excuse for what I did, and I don’t think you want to hear a made-up one. Things between us hadn’t been great for a while, had they?” he asks, and you shake your head in agreement. “It was painfully obvious that neither of us wanted to stay in the relationship, but… you weren’t saying anything, and I didn’t know how to bring it up…”

“So you found a way to end things without having to talk to me about it?” you say, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice. You know it’s hard for Sunghoon to talk to you like this, but you wish this had been the way you broke up. It would’ve saved you a lot of pain.

Sunghoon lets his head hang. “Yeah, I guess. If I could do things differently, I would. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well… Nothing we can do about it now.” You both stand there in silence for a while, avoiding the other’s gaze. You don’t know what to say next but it feels weird leaving now, like there’s still something unsaid.

He breaks the silence first. “So. What’s um, what’s with you and Heeseung?”

You look at him, surprised by his question. “I’m not sure. We’re figuring things out,” you reply cautiously. He nods his head slowly, taking the information in.

“So, he’s not like a rebound or anything?”

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “No, Sunghoon, he’s not a rebound. If I needed a rebound, I’d have gotten one months ago.”

“But we would've been together then…?”

“So? That didn’t stop you,” you say coldly. “Anyway, I think this conversation’s over. Thanks for apologizing, I guess.”

Sunghoon doesn’t try to stop you, and you try not to be disappointed. It would’ve been a nice ego stroke.

Walking back to Heeseung’s car, you nod and exhale through your nose when he asks you if you’re alright. You ask him where he hid the TV remote, and he says he stashed it between towels in a cupboard in the bathroom: “There’s no way he’ll find it there anytime soon. You guys were talking a while, so I also changed some books’ places on his shelves in the living room.”

In the car, Heeseung gives you silence, which you’re grateful for. You need some time to think about what just happened, and what will happen now. Your talk with Sunghoon could’ve gone somewhat better, but you shouldn’t have expected that much from him; him sincerely, soberly apologizing already makes you feel better. You think about the final thing from the list: Make him regret what he did.

“Hey, Heeseung?” you call out, and he hums in response, turning his head slightly towards you but keeping his eyes on the road.

“About the last thing on the list. I guess that’s already done, no? I don’t think there’s anything else we can do that’ll make him regret what he did more, is there?”

He seems to think for a minute, pouting his lips in reflection. “I guess not. I’d say he seems pretty regretful as well. How did your talk with him go?”

“It was alright,” you sigh. “At least he wasn’t drunk, this time. I’m happy he knows what he did was wrong, and I’m glad he found it in him to apologize. In all our years together, that must’ve been the third or fourth time.”

“Wow,” Heeseung breathes out. You turn to look at him and see that he’s clenching his jaw. He notices your stare and chuckles, explaining: “It’s just frustrating knowing you had to go through that for such a long time. I could already tell you weren’t happy with him, but I didn’t know how bad it was. If I had, I think I would’ve had a savior moment and tried to rescue you from there.”

You laugh with him, and contentment suddenly fills you. It’s so easy, being around Heeseung. It’s easy, and it feels good. “Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?”

He stops at a red light and turns to look at you, his eyes trapping you in. “Yeah, I am.”

Another comfortable silence settles in the car as you face the window, hiding the blush creeping on your cheeks. Heeseung takes one of your hands from your lap, holding it on your thigh as he keeps his other hand on the steering wheel. He doesn’t let go of it until he parks in front of your apartment, turning to you with a smile.

“So, what now?” you ask, feeling giddy under his gaze.

He giggles at you and brings his hand up to pat your hair. “Whatever you want.”

You’re not used to being given the right to make decisions, and the fact that Heeseung so easily gives you the reins takes you aback. You try to figure out what you want, but it’s a bit hard; there’s nothing you want to do that jumps out at you, and so you tell Heeseung that.

“That’s alright. Do you know if you want to be by yourself? Or should I stay with you?”

You take another moment to ponder, checking the time. Your phone screen blinks back 8:03 p.m. “I think… it’s already quite late, I think I want to go to bed early. By myself, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he says, smiling at you. “I’ll let you go, then.”

You kiss his cheek goodbye, then head to the entrance of your building, waving at him when you reach it. He gestures for you to get in, and you like that he waits for you to be inside before driving away.

—

Heeseung is so patient. He doesn’t make you feel bad for not giving him a straightforward answer after a month, he just keeps on smiling at you, making you laugh, and doing sweet gestures. He reminds you everyday that he’s there through his actions but never pressures you. As promised, he comes with you to the pet shelter, and together you choose an orange tabby that you’d fallen in love at first sight with.

One day after you’ve gone out for drinks with Yuqi and Miyeon and you’re not thinking very straight, you call him in drunk tears, apologizing for making him wait and saying you don’t want him to be upset with you.

“I could never be upset with you, Y/N. I’ll wait however long you need, and I’m happy as long as you are too.” His words stick with you and they echo in your mind whenever your gazes meet.

One Friday night, Miyeon invites everyone in the office out to celebrate her recent promotion. Heeseung sits next to you and holds your hand under the table. You find yourself wishing you didn’t feel the need to hide your intertwined hands from your colleagues. You turn your face towards Heeseung who’s engrossed in a conversation with your manager, and you love how his face lights up and how animatedly he’s talking. He looks so beautiful and you hold his hand a bit tighter. He turns to you for a second with a smile on his face, squeezing your hand before turning back to the manager, and it’s all you need to know you’re ready for him.

You and your colleagues close the bar, and Heeseung and you stand outside for half an hour, making sure everyone gets safely into a taxi. Heeseung had said he didn’t feel like drinking that night, and you had stopped as soon as the realization had hit you, wanting a clear head.

When everybody’s left, you and Heeseung shyly avoid each other’s gaze, kicking small pebbles on the ground, bursting into a fit of giggles when your eyes meet.

“So…” he starts.

“So…” you repeat, looking up at him with a grin.

“I live quite close to here, if you’d like to come over,” he offers, voice quiet.

“I’d love that.” He looks at you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You both laugh again, and you think it’s crazy how he manages to make you feel fifteen again. He takes your hand in his, swaying it back and forth the whole way to his apartment. He opens the door for you, grandly gesturing for you to go in. You’ve been here before for after-drinks with him and your colleagues, but just like when he had come over at yours a few weeks prior, being here now by yourself feels different. Heeseung’s apartment is cozy, inviting and very him. Old books stand on the same shelf next to the latest PS5 releases, he’s got framed pictures of him and his family next to his TV; there’s even a few which you’re in. A colorful knitted throw covers the brown leather couch, and he shyly explains that he’s found a new hobby these past few months.

“It started out when my niece was born, I wanted to knit her a small hat…” he says, and you want to squish his cheeks with how adorable he is.

You take another look around the living room before your eyes settle on him. He hopes you can’t hear how loud his heart is beating right now. He clears his throat. “What do you, um, what do you want to do?” he asks nervously.

You know what you want to do. You feel it burning inside you, but you don’t know how to put it into words. You take a step towards him, your eyes never leaving his.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” You shake your head. “Water?” You shake it again, taking another step closer to him. He closes his eyes and releases a shaky breath when you’re standing right in front of him, mere centimeters separating your bodies.

“Heeseung?” you say, and he hums at the sound of his name but keeps his eyes closed. “Thank you for waiting.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing the side of your face into his chest. His arms immediately come around your waist, hugging you closer to his body.

“Of course.”

“I don’t want to make you wait anymore,” you say quietly, and when he doesn’t answer after a few moments, you think he might have not even heard you. He leans back to look at you, and you swear his eyes have gotten a shade darker.

“Are you sure?” he asks, eyes trained on your lips.

“Yes. Kiss me, please,” you say, and he doesn’t need to be told twice before pressing his mouth to yours.

You find release in his lips. The kiss starts out slow and careful at first, as if he’s scared you might go back on your word at any moment, but he’s quickly reassured that you won’t when you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, your hands finding purchase in the soft strands of his hair. You can feel all those years he’s waited to do this in his kiss, all of his desire and need and desperation. You hope the way you kiss him back makes him understand how happy and safe he’s made you feel these past weeks.

He bends down and picks you up, making you yelp in surprise at the sudden action, then carries you bridal-style to his bedroom, laying you down gently on the mattress. He places feather-like kisses all over your face, ears and neck, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. You grab his face to bring his lips back down onto yours, and he gladly reciprocates the kiss, the both of you smiling into it. The shots of soju you had hours ago have nothing to do with how light-headed you feel.

You untuck his button-up from his trousers, dipping your hands underneath it to feel the warm skin there. He shivers at your touch and kisses you more hungrily, his tongue asking for permission inside your mouth. Your hands come from his lower back to his chest and you start to unbutton his shirt from the top down, marveling at the sight of his toned chest and abs once the shirt is off. You push down on his shoulders so that he lays on his back as you straddle his hips. You dip your head down to press warm kisses down his shoulder and between his collarbones, your hand caressing his stomach and feeling him squirm at your touch.

When his hands come to hold you at the sides, you sit up and let him take your top off, laughing together when it gets a bit stuck around your head. His big hands brush against your stomach and come up to cup your breasts over your bra, which you quickly unclasp. He breathes out a ‘wow’ at the sight of you half-naked on top of him, and you think there’s no way you’ll ever get tired of that look of admiration in his eyes.

He leans in and wraps his soft lips around your nipple, licking and nipping at the sensitive bud, making you moan and arch your back in pleasure. He keeps one arm around your waist and uses his second hand to tend to your other breast, making sure they both get attention. You graze your fingers through his locks, tugging at them when it feels particularly good. His actions make a fire burn in your core, and you’re so desperate for any kind of friction that you start rubbing yourself over his growing erection, making him moan around your nipple.

He kisses from your breasts back up to your lips, trapping them ravenously as his hands snake underneath your skirt to grab at your ass, bringing you down even further onto him. You let your arms hang around his head as you bury your face in the crook of his neck and he continues pressing kisses in your hair.

“Want you inside me, Hee,” you croak out, voice weak.

“Hmm. You have no idea how much I want that baby, but I want to take it slow with you. Make you know how much I love you,” he says, his words sending shivers down your spine.

His arms come around you as he lays you down on your back again and hovers over you. “L-love me?,” you ask quietly.

He kisses you once on the lips and looks you in the eyes. “Yes, love you. So much.” He starts kissing down your body, sucking a mark right underneath your collarbone. “More than you could ever know.” He sucks a second mark in the same spot, and you look down to see that he’s formed a heart with his love bites.

He hooks his fingers under your skirt and looks up at you, asking for permission. You nod your head and he pulls your skirt and underwear down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor next to the bed. He rakes his fingers up and down your sides, remembering from last time how sensitive you are there. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Y/N. I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” he says as he openly stares at your naked body in front of him.

He sits up at the end of his bed, undoing his belt and taking his trousers off so that he’s left in his boxers, the fabric stretching around his hard member. Your mouth waters at the sight, and you reach out a hand, laying it in his chest. “Please, Hee. I need you.”

He smiles softly at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve waited so long for this. Do you think you could be patient for me tonight? I promise I’ll give you what you want. I just want to take my time,” he asks and you nod fervently, eyebrows furrowed. He’s right; you’ve made him wait for such a long time, the least you could do is let him go slow tonight.

He hovers down your body, taking your left foot in his hand and placing a soft kiss on top of it. He kisses all the way up from your foot to your thighs, gently biting the soft flesh there. “You’re so pretty, all spread out like this for me. Do you know how pretty you are? Hm?”

You can only hum in response, mind too clouded with pleasure when he’s barely touched you yet. “Please,” you breathe out.

“Please what?” he asks, still nipping at your thighs, making them shake in anticipation. There was a fire between your legs and you didn’t know how long you could take it. “Use your words so I know what you want, baby.”

“Plea-please touch me, Hee.”

“Touch you where, baby? Here?” he says as his thumb strokes up your folds, already soaking wet, making you moan at the sensation.

“Fuck, yes, right here, please,” you whine, bucking your hips up, craving more of his touch.

Heeseung could cum at the sight in front of him, of you so needy for him, of you begging for more. He feels like he’s dreaming, but your moans and your grip on his arm remind him that this is real, this is actually happening. “You have no idea what you do to me, beautiful,” he breathes out before diving into your core, his tongue lapping up all of your juices, licking stripes up your folds and sucking at your clit. He eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in ages, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach much sooner than you’d like to admit. You tug at his hair and claw at his shoulders, not wanting to hurt him but needing something to hold onto.

You’re a blubbering mess underneath him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside you, quickly adding a second one when he sees how wet and accommodating you are around his fingers. Not even a minute later, you’re moaning out his name like it’s the only thing you know to say and bucking your hips into his face and hand as your orgasm comes crashing down on you, taking your breath away for a few seconds. You hold for dear life onto his shoulders as he helps you ride out your high, then kisses all the way back up to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He lets you catch your breath for a moment, kissing your face softly and telling you how well you did, how pretty you are. When you’re rested, you grab his face, kissing him with all the desire in your body. Your hand snakes down to palm him over his boxers and you see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you can’t help but kiss him there over and over again. You help him out of his boxers, letting his erection spring free as it slaps against his stomach. You take him in your hand, spreading the pre-cum all over him as you bite at his neck and earlobe, reveling in the sounds he’s making for you.

“Need more of you, Hee,” you whisper in his ear.

“Mhm. Anything for you, beautiful. How do you want to do this?” he asks, looking at you with hooded eyes.

“I think… I want to ride you. I want to look at you.” He nods and sits up back against the headboard, taking you in his arms with him and sitting you in his lap. Feeling him against you is enough to make your mind draw a blank. He reaches for his drawer, saying, “Let me put a condom on first,” but you stop him.

“I’m on the pill. Want to feel you without anything, if that’s okay.”

He lets out a shaky breath and nods. “That’s more than okay,” he says with a smile.

You raise yourself on your knees, taking him in your hand and rubbing his tip between your folds a few times before finally sinking down onto his cock, the both of you releasing heavy breaths at the feeling. You sit there for a minute or two, chests pressed together, letting yourself adjust to his size as he grazes his fingernails up and down your back.

“Take your time, baby. You’ve already done so well. And you feel so good just like this.”

“Mmh. Feels good for me too, Hee,” you murmur in his neck.

“Yeah? I’m glad,” he says, letting his hands roam down your back to your ass and behind your thighs. Feeling ready, you move a little bit in his lap, tentatively rolling your hips over his, and the sensation takes over your whole body. You both moan at the same time, and when you pick your pace up, Heeseung can’t stop muttering curses under his breath.

“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. That feels amazing. You’re so perfect.”

He hands grab at your ass, massaging the soft flesh. You then start raising your hips and slamming them back down onto his and he bucks his up to meet yours, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. You try to keep up a quick pace, desperately chasing your high, but soon enough your thighs start to tire and you don’t have the strength to go as fast.

“Heeseung… Need help…” you breathe out, collapsing on top of him.

Without a word, he places a hand between your shoulder blades, pressing you close to him and making you raise your hips. He then digs his fingers into the sides of your hips and starts pounding into you at a much quicker pace than you could ride him, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and your gradually louder moans filling the room. “I’m gonna cum, Hee,” you warn, voice breathy and high-pitched.

“Fuck. Me too, baby.” You’re a moaning mess on top of him, and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier as he approaches his own high. He grips his fingers tighter in your skin as his orgasm hits him, curses and moans escaping his lips. The sinful sounds he’s making and the feeling of him shooting his seed inside you are enough to send you over the edge, and you cum all over his dick, muttering his name over and over again.

You stay locked against each other for a few moments as you regain consciousness, feeling him getting softer inside you. He pulls out, making you hiss slightly, and rests his head against the wall behind him, looking at you with a cheeky grin and heavy eyelids, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your hips.

You lay down on the bed, body feeling heavy, and rest your head on his thigh, your hand coming up to caress his other one. You place a kiss on the inside of his thigh, then another one of his hip bone, and wrap your arms around his waist, closing your eyes and letting his hand in your hair lull you to sleep.

“Hey, lovebug, don’t fall asleep on me. Let’s get you cleaned up first,” he says, and you let out a low hum, letting him unwrap your arms from around him, get up and help you to the bathroom. “I’ll go and draw us a bath, okay?” he asks softly, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

When you’re back from the toilet, the bath is all filled up with water and he’s laying in it, arms resting against the sides of the tub. He opens his eyes when he hears you coming and he sits up a little bit, gesturing for you to get in with him. You settle yourself between his legs, his arms wrapping themselves around you and rest your head against his chest. You hum at the feeling of the warm water enveloping the both of you and of him against you.

“I think I could stay like this forever,” you say, hands coming to cover his on your stomach.

He lets out a small laugh. “Me too, only if it meant we didn’t get pruny fingers and feet.”

“Ew,” you laugh with him. The two of you chat for another twenty minutes, talking about this and that until the water gets cold and it’d feel cozier being under the sheets together rather than in the tub. He helps you out of it, drying the both of you off with one towel, making you laugh when he wraps it around you two.

You get into bed naked together, and you breathe in the scent of his skin that’s already become so familiar and comforting. Before you can drift off to sleep, you call out his name softly.

“Yes, love?”

“You won’t hurt me, right?”

He feels his heart ache for you, for how right you deserve to be treated and for all the love he wishes he could’ve given you this whole time. “Never in a million years, Y/N.” That’s all you need to hear to fall asleep peacefully.

—

You wake up in the same position you had all these weeks ago, your back to Heeseung’s chest and his arm lazily over your waist, and it's the most perfect way to start off your day. Your mouth feels dry so you sit up, reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand, but Heeseung’s arm around you tightens as he sleepily mumbles, “Stay here.”

You turn around to face him and press a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I just need some water, Hee.” He lets out a small groan but lets you go, and you gulp the water down.

“Should I go make us breakfast?” you ask even though you already know the answer.

“No,” he says, drawing out the vowel, “stay here. Come here.” He opens his arms wide, inviting you in his hold. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and you feel at home.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he says, hugging you tight to him.

“Good morning, Heeseung.”

“Hm, don’t call me Heeseung,” he whines. “Call me Hee. Like you did last night. I like it more.” You laugh at his cute behavior, making him whine even more. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” He starts tickling your sides and you laugh even more.

“Sorry! Sorry!” you say, trying to catch your breath. “Sorry, Hee.” He hums appreciatively and stops tickling you, kissing your forehead.

“Better?” you ask teasingly.

“Better,” he says just as his stomach starts growling, making you snort.

You give him a small tap on his butt, and, ignoring his whines, say, “C’mon, let’s have breakfast.” You manage to escape his grasp and rummage around his drawers, finding a t-shirt and pair of boxers of his for you to wear. He watches you get dressed with a lazy smile.

“Are you trying to get me hard again, baby?”

“No, I’m trying to make you get up so we can eat.”

“I can just eat you.” You grab a pillow from his bed to throw over his face, making him laugh. “Sorry, sorry,” he says between giggles, and gets up, grabbing clean clothes for himself.

You spend the day lazing around his apartment, fueling up on snacks and kisses from each other. You can barely keep your hands off of him; his skin is warm under your hands and you feel at peace when you can feel him against you. Sunghoon had never much liked skinship, and you’d always had to stop yourself from reaching out and touching him. But Heeseung melts under your touch every single time; he kisses your palm when you cup his cheek and caresses your hands when you wrap your arms around his middle from behind and strokes your hair when you rest your head against his shoulder. His moans and whimpers are the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard; you go down on him while you’re watching a movie and then again in the shower just to hear them over and over again. He eats you out like you’re dessert, telling you you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. When he spoons you on the couch, neither of you can keep it innocent for long before you ask him to cockwarm you, and he readily obliges, burying himself deep inside you.

“Y/N?” he calls out when you’re in that position, watching the nth movie of the weekend.

“Yes, Hee?”

“I’ve been thinking about that list. You know how ‘make him regret what he did’ is the last thing on the list?”

“Yeah, and we said that was already done, didn’t we?” you say, not really wanting to talk about anything related to Sunghoon anymore.

“Yeah. But I was thinking, the only way he’ll really regret it is when he sees how happy you are without him, don’t you think?”

“I guess…” you reply, curious as to what he’s getting at.

“Would you let me do that? Make you happy?”

You let out a small ‘oh’ at his words, and immediately feel tears welling in your eyes. It’s hard, wrapping your head around the fact that someone wants to be there for you and look after your happiness without asking for anything in return. “You already make me so happy, Hee.”

He giggles, burying his face in the crook of your neck and leaving a kiss there. “I do?” he asks, and you don’t know how he doesn’t see it.

“So much. And I want to make you happy, too.”

“You do that just by being here, lovebug. You don’t need to do anything else.” You take your hand up to your mouth and kiss him all over his fingers and palm.

“What should we tell people at work?” you ask, gently biting his knuckle to annoy him, but he just lets you, biting your neck in return.

“About what?”

“About us.”

“Us?”

“Yes?”

“Well, I think everybody already knows I’m in love with you. I was, well, still am, pretty obvious about it, so I’m not sure how you never saw it.”

“Sorry,” you say, kissing his knuckle in apology.

“It’s okay. What do you want to tell them?”

“I don’t know. Should we let them figure it out without saying anything?”

“Figure what out?”

“That we’re together.”

“We’re together?!”

“Of course we are!” you laugh, gently tapping his hand.

“You didn’t tell me that!”

“I thought it was obvious!”

He joins in your laughter. “We need to stop thinking we’re being obvious and just tell each other how we feel.”

“I agree. How do you feel?”

“I love you. How do you feel?”

You pause for a second, and because it feels right, and because it feels like the truth, you say, “I love you too.”

—

It takes Yuqi and Miyeon approximately two days to figure out that Heeseung and you are together. And once these two know, everybody in the office knows. To be fair, the two of you do try to keep things professional; it's not your fault that Yuqi walked in just as you placed a quick peck on Heeseung's cheek in the break room, or that he spends more time at your desk than usual, always pretending there's nothing he needs to talk to you about.

“The two of you are like Jim and Pam,” your manager complains jokingly when he walks past you.

Heeseung and you just exchange a knowing glance, trying not to burst into laughter in the middle of the office. You look at him and he looks at you, and you’ve never been happier.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @sd211 @lalalalawon @w

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

[neonovember]

Coming in HOT with some ANGST and FLUFF, having SUCH an intense emotional fight with Carmen one night. Maybe you’re both arguing about the opening of The Bear or finances or even just with communication in your relationship, Carmen just snaps about how you weren’t always this hostile. Just losing it on him and in tears crying out “YOU LEFT!! YOU LEFT ME CARMEN!! I understand what happened with you and your brother, but you just fucking left and didn’t even say goodbye!! You know how AWFUL that made me feel?! Like all of a sudden after everything we’d been through! It was like suddenly I was another face you just cut out and forgot about. It took me MONTHS to stop even just thinking about you. And then when you came back? It was as if nothing happened, but I was SO happy you were back….and now you always act like I’m some inconvenience that’s always in the way!!!! So what do you WANT Carmen?! Do you want me to stay or is this another New York situation?”. You can see Carmen’s heart shattering in his face as he just crumbles at the end begging for forgiveness 🥲. It ends maybe with the both of you holding each other in the kitchen “I’m so sorry” “No no….it’s okay….I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that…”

All for you

this request was so good! your brain anon..😍 i hope i did it justice, this is part one of two because i always seem to be extending things that should be a one shot! i'm thinking part two should be from carm's pov? what do you guys think??

warnings: shouting, self deprecation, angst to the tenth power, no happy endings, carmen is so so so bad at communicating, unresolved tension/anger, new york carmy!

Loving Carmen was a lot of things. 

It was the smoulder of colours brushed onto a canvas, it was the crash of waves in the middle of the pacific, fighting and thrashing against each other until it took you under and below. It was the spoonful of honey that eased the bitterness, it was beyond your control. A love so smouldering and bright that you didn't quite know if your heart could fit it all.

But it was also difficult, like dragging a 50 pound steel anchor every way you went. You were forever grateful to have Carmen in your life, again at least, but it wasn’t exactly like the things that he had struggled with before he wasn't struggling with even more now. 

You were patient, you tried to be at least. When he wouldn’t pick up your calls for hours, when he was so caught up with work he forgot to eat, when he was so caught up with work all the last of his energy was spent on you and not himself.

You loved Carmen too hard to let him destroy himself for his work, even if he hated you for it, you couldn't watch him crumble and break from the stress of the restaurant and the overwhelming pressure he put on himself. 

Especially when you saw him begin to unravel before you, melting hot wax crackling and setting form. He had begun to throw back bottles of pepto like it was water, crunching on tums like popcorn any chance he got, and it wasn't like the restaurant was doing bad, in fact it was doing amazing. Yet, it was that fact alone that made Carmen get worse, made him slip into the sinking black hole that told him one moment away from the shop, one glance off of his work and it would crumble into ash.

You had seen this in New York, where he would call you during the depths of the night, the sound of his stuttered sobs breaking any resolve you had left. You had raced to throw on a jacket and bring a pot of soup to his place even when he protested. You fed him whilst he shook against you, you whispered stories until he fell asleep, you kissed his curls.

You wondered if he knew.

You find yourself doing the same thing now, like an endless dance you both are bound to, every rational part of you wants to hate it but you can't deny the way your heart shimmers in want. Your mind moves with the familiarity of it, chasing after him like a game of cat and mouse.

Only this time you live with Carmen and not in a dingy shoebox in New York holding back every ounce of love you wanted to pour into him. 

Carmen’s mind was forever connected to food, it was something so automatic it fell unconscious under his skin. You found amusement in the way he’d stand in the middle of your apartment living room in quick critic over the late night cooking shows that you would turn on whilst waiting for him to come home, or the coffee around the corner he swears isn’t actual beans. 

But your soup, and anything else you made was something he had always reserved with a certain adoration. He’d whisper into the anonymity of your neck under the covers, recounting how your food was akin to a warm hug, coming home to the smell of cookies and a house of laughter and light he wished he had growing up.  

You hoped he had actually eaten something today, but it was that belief that evaded your mind as quickly as it came when you reminded yourself who Carmen was. It was push and pull, and you would be damned if he didn't finish your food and then some.

Your job allowed you to work from home, and you don’t know if it was your laziness or intelligence that enabled you to make it so that you only had to work a couple hours in the day. It was sometimes strange to Carmen, how you could be able to find love and creation in something without putting everything into it.

Carmen was always watching you, he found peace in it, the moves and motions of you all over the apartment, the scent of your body wash, you toothbrush next to his, you were a movie right in front of him and he would watch you for eternity if he could.

You turn into the back of the Bear, parking between the faded white lines before turning off the engine and staying in the car for a moment. You hated the cold, and your breath had already begun to blow out misty clouds every time you exhaled. Collecting the warm container of soup and a sandwich you quickly jog towards the restaurant, taking the back door when you notice Manny leaving.

“Hey Hun, how ya doing” Manny nods towards you with a warm smile

“Hey Manny, just coming to get Carmen to eat something other than tums” 

“Chef is definitely wound tight, mix up on a new delivery of some kind of fruit? Forgot the name.. It's spiky and smells like when we moved out those ovens and found those burnt onions and stock stuck to the floor” Manny replies with a wince as you both recall the devastating smell that hadn’t left your nostrils in weeks during the renovation.

“Uh, Durian?” You reply and Manny clicks his fingers at your reply.

“That's it. That mind of yours is really something. He hasn’t taken a break since the morning, but you always have a way with him” Manny raises his eyebrows and you shake your head with a laugh

You only remember that particular fruit because Carmen had been obsessing over a new menu item that included it as its main component. He had spent sleepless nights perfecting it, despite it being utterly magnificent the first try. You couldn’t shake him from his work, it could consume him for months if he let it, and you feared he was at the precipice of falling into that hole once again.

You walk through the back hallway leading up to the main kitchen, passing by the tired hunches of the shoulder dressed down in crisp white shirts and aprons. The Bear had a late start today, Sydney suggested opening a little later for a full dinner menu rather than lunch as well and the turn out had shocked you all.

It also meant Carmen came home even later than he already did during those nights, you’ve had to damn near carry him to the bath to get him to not drop dead the second he came home. You didn’t mind however, you couldn't deny the faint thrum of your heart content as you washed Carmen’s hair whilst he lay against you half asleep. 

You spot Sydney at her station, and you quickly walk over to see her prepping for dinner, the swoop of her knife cutting into red meat in a kind of curve you knew she had perfected over the years.

“Hey Syd, early start?” You say, once your side by side with her

“Oh don’t remind me, can you believe the L got backed up from all the ice last night? Added a whole 45 minutes to my commute” Sydney groans out, shaking her head as she turns to you. Grateful to have a reprieve from her repetitive cutting.

“Goddam Chicago, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve got a bottle of wine with your name on it in my fridge and it is dying to be opened and shared by two very, very tired women” You reply, smiling at the way Sydney raises her eyebrows gleefully at the thought.

“I am holding you to that, as soon as we get through today. God, this new dish Carmen has thought up is kicking my ass” Sydney replies, and your ears chirp at the mention of the man you’ve been looking for.

“Speaking of Carmen, have you seen him?” 

“Yeah, I think he’s still in the office, been on call with one of our vendors cause of the mix up with the--”

“Durian, yeah. Thanks Syd” You reply, giving her a nod before making your way to the hallway leading into the office.

You hear Carmen before you see him, the sound of his loud voice seeping through the cracks of the door. His voice rises as he gets more and more agitated, and you don’t miss the sound of a cup being thrown against the wall as the phone call continues, not waiting a moment before firing back muffled words you can hardly make out except

“Unprofessional” “waste of my time” “fuckin’ dick”

So yeah, you thought it was definitely a good time to walk in and get your extremely agitated boyfriend to eat your soup.

Just as you walk through the door, you see Carmen slam the phone back onto the receiver, shouting out obscenities at the object as he throws his chair back onto the floor. Years working together has made you unfazed by his outbursts of anger, though you have been sly in trying to get him to go to therapy so that he doesn't get an aneurysm over the phone with the Wifi company or something hilariously trivial.

“Hey Carm” You say, whilst closing the door, and Carmen look up at you in surprise, his features sobering, as his eyes relax into a comforting gaze.

“Ah shit, sorry bout that, just some stubborn, pig headed vendors who don’t want to fix a problem they fucking caused” Carmen replies, his chest rising rapidly as he takes sharp inhales of oxygen. 

He turns to face you and you take in the sunken look of his cheeks, the skin a little discoloured like he was sick, and his hair dishevelled and falling flat against his face like he's run his hand through it too many times.

“Jesus Carmen, have you gotten any sleep?” You reply, instantly as you make your way over to him, pressing a hand on his shoulder.

Carmen shudders against your touch, shaking his head as he leans back and away from you. You stumble as you look down at your hand now inches away from his shoulder in confusion. Carmen never turned you away from him, in fact during those unforgiving times of anxiety and anguish, when he felt the entire sky falling, you would be his anchor to bring him back.

The fact that he had visibly shuddered when you touched him made your heart ache, and it hurts even more when Carmen notices, the guilt spilling into him.

“Just been so busy” Carmen replies, his eyes darting everywhere but you, as you nod with a tight smile, backing away from him.

You reach for the soup you've left on the edge, placing it on the desk and you nod to it

“Have you eaten today?” You reply and Carmen stops watching you, blinking slowly as he tries to remember the last time he's actually consumed something, before coming up empty and shaking his head up at you with a groan.

“I thought so, you need to eat Carmen, how can you expect to function let alone run a restaurant if you aren't at your optimal level” You reason, leaning against the table, with your arms crossed against your chest.

“It’s fine, I was just gonna grab something small” Carmen waves you off

“Actually, I brought you food right now so I think it would be a perfect time-

“Is that why you came? To micromanage me like some toddler” Carmen suddenly replies, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you through half lidded eyes.

“I- what? I didn’t-”

“I can run my restaurant blindfolded with my arms tied behind my back, alright? I don’t need you to come and patronise me like you know every goddamn thing” Carmen spits out, and you can't help the way your blood runs hot, the rhythmic beat of anger pounding through you like a hammer.

How fucking dare he

“Excuse me? I came here for you Carmen, not some self-righteous moment to say I'm better than you. God damnit, is that what you think? I came here to make sure you didn't faint and fall into a pot of boiling hot water” You spit out, Carmen looks up at you, hes blues swimming in ire as he lets a humour-less laugh rumble through his chest.

You felt all the things you had kept a lid on begin to tumble out of your mouth, and soon you’re anger morphed into a building current. The flashes of everything that had gone wrong, the lack of communication, the coming home late, it all has begun to accumulate rapidly and you let it consume you in its entirety. 

“Sure, of course,” Carmen sings. “I’m not your fucking child alright? You are my goddamn mother so stop treating me like you need to make sure I eat 3 times a day and have my nightly bath. I’m a grown man-”

“Then ACT LIKE IT!”

Carmen looks up at you in surprise, his brows knitting as his head swivels back from your outburst. You had never screamed at him, in fact, Carmen can’t remember a time where you had screamed at anyone like you did now as you stare him down deviantly. Eyes burning with a fiery anger that begged to be stoked. Carmen knows this, your hands shake in tight fists like your seconds away from swiping him, and he resorts back to his usual self destruction of turning back and running away. 

“Yeah, yeah that's right, walk away, walk away like you always do. Carmen, soon enough you're going to have to face it you know? You’re gonna have to face your fucking issues before it destroys us both” You scream, and Carmen pauses, causing you to stumble. Carmen turns around to face you in the middle of the hallway, the rush of anger present on his cheeks, causing the veins to bulge out on his neck and he looms over you

“Issues, I have fucking issues? You’re screaming at me because of goddamn soup”

“It’s more than fucking SOUP!” The screech of your voice bounced across the thin walls of the restaurant hallway, your throat begins to burn as you begin to swallow down the emotion bubbling within you. You want to reach into him and rattle his neck, force him to see the destructive path he was taking, force him to do anything but turn away and shut you out.

A quiet trepidation falls over the entire kitchen as they watch you both fight, it was unheard of, an anomaly that seemed wrong, like someone had gotten a couple from the street and put your faces on it.

Watching you both fight was like watching a performance. The way you both leaned into each other menacingly, neither of you backing down, there was an indefinite energy that bubbled between you both, you were seconds away from shocking each other or making out. 

“What is it then huh? Why are you acting like this? You expect me to read your goddamn mind? You’ve changed alright? Everyone can see it, I can't even recognise the person in front of me half the time” Carmen sneers, his neck turning a crimson red as he clenches his jaw painfully. He’s holding himself back, his body shakes with it, the tight clenches of his fist stopping him from putting a hole in the wall or smashing a chair.

“I’ve changed? Me?” You cut yourself off with a chuckle, Carmen shifted his gaze as his eyebrows knot in confusion, and when you catch a glimpse of his face you can’t help the booming sound from crawling up your throat, keening over as the sick sound of laughter rocks through your body.

The rest of the team now watches on in horror, you were laughing, why are you fucking laughing?

You try and gulp down the uncontrollable fit of laughter, you can practically feel your body shift down into the jagged memories from all those years ago. From a place and time you had shuffled into a no named cabinet and thrown into the deepest depths of the ocean. 

You didn’t want to remember, you begged your mind to forget, but as your laughter slips into sharp inhales, you already can taste the wetness streaming down your cheeks, and slithering down the slope of your neck.

Your sob’s rack through you, winding you until you hunched over, reaching out onto the wall to steady yourself and trying to find footing as the ground caves beneath you.

Carmen recognises it in an instant, taking a tentative step forward, raising his arms before dropping them in a second, like he was approaching a volatile animal.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I-” Carmen starts, but you’ve already raised yourself from your hunched position, the tears dripping into the linoleum floors and splashing onto your combat boots.

You didn’t want to face that time in your life again, but Carmen has practically forced you too, and there's no way in hell you weren’t going to drag him down into that bordered off well. Fuck being the bigger person.

“No no, you spoke, this is my fucking turn now” You grunt out, the rippling grief leaving your body in a flash as you sneer over him.

Carmen gulps back a retort, his mind re-circuiting, trying to figure out your polar behaviour. Carmen knew better to interrupt you now, in fact the restaurants was a pin drop quiet, safe for the whooshing sound of the central air corn, and the sound of Carmen's stuttering inhales.

“YOU listen to me” You spit, pointing a finger, pressing it into Carmen's chest so hard he stumbles back

“You fucking left me Carmen. You! You- just, you dropped everything we had, everything we ever built in New York and you disappeared. And it was Mickey, and you needed to be there and I got that, I get that, but you- you just left me there.” You grunt, biting back the swell of emotion that erupted when you thought about those years ago. 

“You became a ghost, and god,- you could have told me, after everything I thought we had- you could've told me! But then you didn't. And I was left to pick up the pieces, wondering if you had ever loved me, wondering if I should have given half of myself to you whilst you couldn't even call me back” You stutter out, shocking back the onslaught of tears as you swallow around the lump in your throat.

Carmen’s face pales as he registers those years ago in New York, the immediate look of guilt and anguish twisting his features as he leans onto the wall for support.

Even after all these years, all this time, you still felt it like it was yesterday. All your work had become undone, the thin veil of healing had been stripped back to bare bones in an instant, and you hate it, you hate it so much. Why couldn’t you have packed up and moved on? Why did you have to fold back into yourself at those memories? You don't know what you're seeking now, vengeance, restitution, it all becomes blurred in the heat of it, and god have you wanted to strip your skin and wake up restored since that night.

“You ruined me for a year Carmen. I was a shell of myself because of you. And then you called me that afternoon and you know what? I wanted to throw my phone into the fucking Hudson. I wanted to rip my hair out and scream and hurt you like you hurt me because the truth was I already forgiven you before you even apologised. And you never did. And I still wanted to come back to Chicago for you.” 

“Honey-” Carmen's strained voice shudders at your words, and you can make out the red of his eyelids, the tears collecting at his lids.

You hold up a hand, stopping Carmen from speaking, tears begin to form at your waterline, threatening to break, your vision blurs, the features of Carmen’s tormented face becoming wobbly and undefined. 

You were so sick of crying, you were so sick of it.

“And I won’t ever make you keep paying for a mistake for the rest of your life, I let go of that anger because you needed my help and in some way, I fell in love with you all over again, I was able to make peace with it.” 

“But you don't think I know you Carmen? When you overwork yourself to death you can barely eat? When you get bad again at calling me? When you were good, you were the best person in my entire world, but when you're like this?” You shake your head into the empty space between you, hands waving in front of you. 

Carmen looks torn apart, his hair falling flat against his forehead, his hands in tight fists as he shakes his head against your words. Begging, on his knees, begging for you to stop, to stop saying those things that came from your mouth that were not true. His body shakes with it, the gushing feeling of guilt, it washes over him in waves.

His mind is going a mile a minute, every thought of work, of that mismatched order he had to deal with, of the vendor who refused to deliver, it all went out the window the second your face contorted in that heart aching way. He can't lose you, every fiber in his being yearned for you, he lived for you. And here he was losing you, like a brush of paint across a canvas.

You were slipping from him every second you stood there with tears dripping down your cheeks like a stream.

“You’re the one that's changed. You're the one who's always changing. Don’t throw it back at me just because you can’t see it” You mutter with a shake of your head. Your voice carries a finality with it, and you jerk from Carmen when he takes a step towards you. You can't breathe in here, and you pass by the concerned gases of the rest of the Bear, shaking your head and moving away from Sydney, before dipping back into the busy streets of Chicago. You bite your tongue the entire way until the taste of copper fills your mouth.

Folding yourself into the huddled waves of mundanity, leaving your soup and the last bit of your aching heart on the bench of Carmen's office.

[apollodeath]

Playing Prey Again?

A/N: I FINALLY GOT IT DONE. Please forgive me if it’s not as good as the first one 🧎‍♀️ I never intended to write another predator/pray kink related fic BUT I’m happy to do it again and again cause they’re so fun and soooo hoottt. Also thank you to everyone who supported my last one I was so worried it wasn’t good. Also sorry for any typos or grammatical errors.

Reader referred to as you, she/her and pet names

König x AFAB!reader

Contains: predator/pray kink, 18+ things 👀crying kink, oral, it gives off dubcon/noncon but everything is consensual.

Summary: official part 2 of Playing Prey so if you haven’t read the first one long story short, reader and König have made up a game called ‘Prey’ they both consent to playing and have set rules for themselves, everything is consensual. Believe it or not reader and König have a safe word in place just in case but it’s never been said.

—

König left for his morning run and left you home to do well, whatever. You started by cleaning up the house then sat down watching a show, but really it lead to you scrolling on your phone.

Time had past and you felt you had seen all social media had to offer which lead you to looking through your photos, deleting unusual ones. You swiped through a few until landing on a photo you took just a week ago: König smirking, laying on his back, nude with you on top, you two had just cum and you wanted to take the photo for when he was away, so you had your own special porn. You sighed with a smile feeling yourself heat with the memory of the feeling of him propped up inside you. König always felt so fucking good.

As you reminisced on the photo, right on time, you heard the front door and König’s foot steps in. You smiled and brushed your dirty thoughts aside getting up, walking around the couch.

“König~” you call out walking to the front door and there he stood in his running clothes; a zip up hoodie, now hung open, unzipped even in the cold weather outside.

His under shirt slightly wet with sweat, you couldn’t help but love seeing him sweaty.

“Good run?” You ask innocently but your mind sparked at his mannerisms. Heavy panting, sweat forming and the way his shirt clung to his chest. His smell.

“No. Not nearly what I needed to get my stress out.” He answered while pulling his headphones out of his ears and into the tray next to the door. You knew König had a stressful week with work and training new recruits, so you shook your head in understanding, knowing he exercised to think. Clear his mind of worries or stress.

“Is there anything I could do to help? Maybe run a bath? A massage?” You ask tilting your head to look into his eyes and show your genuine sympathy. König locks eyes with you and steps closer towering over you, so easily for he is taller then anyone else you know.

“Ja. You can help me.” König grabs your jacket off the coat rack, never breaking eye contact, you suddenly feel small and in danger as he pushes the jacket into your chest.

“Run.” He says sternly yet almost a whisper, like if what he’s said is a sin meant for only you to hear.

“S-sorry, what?” Your heart skips a beat registering the word right after your response.

“I said, Run. I won’t be repeating myself.” He said sternly, his voice growl-like. A true monster.

You feel like you couldn’t move fast enough, taking the jacket from his grasp, turning around and running to the back sliding doors. Your heart races faster than time it feels, pounding already from the sudden game play. Prey so suddenly and so early in the day makes it so exciting, so devilishly hot.

You swear you hear König start running at the same time as you, god can’t help you if he has. His strides are massive compared to yours, not to mention his stamina. König was built to be a predator for sure and he knew that.

The fear of him being right behind you causes you to panic more and jump off the-two step-porch that lead into the backyard, you rush across the lawn to the forest. You already feeling your lungs burn from the cold air, it’s so crisp out with a slight fog. It’s freezing, but you could careless. Your temp runs hot from being turned on about the chase, cheek rose tinted and nose slightly too.

König actually did chase you to the back door, only he paused watching you jump from the porch and off into the woods, he smirked and felt the burn in his chest run down his spine to his cock just watching you sprint. Like a fresh doe who’s finally found her legs while running from a beast. He slipped on his sniper hood, breathing in the predator he is, his eyes heavy with desire. The desire to chase and devour, the feeling of taking you and ruining you, the thought made him radiate heat. His teeth clenched together. He wants you to spill your insides all over his cock, while you whimper and plead for his mercy. Which will not come easily.

You rush yourself not stoping you have to push yourself, your breath is heavy but you mustn’t give him you so easily.

‘He didn’t say a time’ you thought.

‘Is he behind me?’ You thought more ‘I can’t hear him’ you took a quick second to look over your shoulder and nothing only trees and a distant house. This kind of calms you, but still keeping up your run. You break from the straight path going right leading to a heavily wooded area and down a small hill. The paths were sometimes big enough for a car to drive on and others were just enough for one person to walk, those are the ones you chose most of the time or you’d make your own path. The paths were out of view or so you hoped. There was a couple big rocks; you knew were there, but so did he.

‘only a short pause here.’ You thought.

You crouch down finally putting your jacket on, you honestly forgot you were holding it. You chose the wrong day to wear a tank top, inside the house you had the heat on but out in the forest seemed to be freezing even mid day like this, the sun still wasn’t hot enough to warm it.

You got up slowly looking around and moved out of the rocks, deeper into the forest, a path you had taken before but, deciding to switch up and go farther left, you slowed on running and just kept a steady pace, your breathing was catching up even though your heart still pounding.

König always seemed to know where you were even when you had lost yourself in the forest he knew. He knows.

You hear leafs rustling making you squat behind a tree quickly and looking in the direction of the sounds.

‘There’s no way already?’ You think, but it’s simply the wind moving fallen leafs then a bigger gust shaking the leafs that have yet to fall. You swallow hard being a bit scared, embarrassed that the wind made you think you’d been caught but König was good like that and quiet, you’d never know unless he wanted you to.

You get up and start walking but it turns to a jog then run as your mind races. He could be close, he could’ve already spotted you, now playing with your own mind, you feel the fear of the game prey, but also the excitement, your pussy heats and starts softly coating itself.

You find a couple trees and bushes you haven’t seen before squatting behind them, you put one knee on the ground, ready to sprint if needed.

You began slowing your breathing once more, closing your eyes to ease your mind, resting your legs as they have began to slightly sting from your running up and down hills and carving your own paths in this forest.

You had gotten good with covering your tracks, not stepping on twigs and if you noticed mud or soft ground you tried avoiding it or covering your foot prints.

You open your eyes looking around and where you sat wasn’t very open and actually great coverage from all angles.

You wait a while; thinking of how scared and unprepared yet, of how hot and bothered you felt. The feeling filled your gut with mixed emotions but your heart fluttered with desire and your mind buzzed with survival instinct.

You stayed in place listening, hoping you wouldn’t be found.

You slowly moved out of your spot after some time had past in silence.

You took light steps away watching the leafs under you crush quietly you hope they don’t tell König where you are. You keep up a nice stride through the forest keeping your head on a swivel. You see a place up ahead that seems out of sight and a good area to just sit for awhile. The closer you get to the area with two overgrown bushes and a couple trees you realize it’s kind of a small place to sit behind the bush against the tree and when you do your head pokes out right above the bush.

Sigh.

You start getting up using the tree to steady yourself as you step out of the spot. Sounds of moving make you turn around quickly.

‘Please no I’m doing so good’ you think.

looking in the open, you spot the thing making noise.

‘König?!’ You think but you realize.

A real Deer, eating something off the ground and you slowly start to back up as it lifts his head up to look at you. It’s antlers taller the König perhaps, you couldn’t really tell while slowly walking back from it, its fur was dark brown and seeing it was kind of magical.

‘I hope it’s friendly enough to just leave’ you think not really knowing if they were violent seeing you in their home.

Your back bumps against something hard making you gasp loudly which makes the Deer turn and run away. You turn quickly, heart pounding and its rock… a start of a cave that seemed rather deep.

‘I think that might be too far… tooo scary.” You thought to yourself.

You hear the sound of something approaching and your heart still quick with all the jump scares so you decide to start running, heavy breath and your mind wonders if it was dumb to not hide in the cave. You try and clear your mind and keep your eyes on lookout and your pace conserved.

You hear something… maybe the leafs under your feet? The sound of foot steps? Another deer? You look back keeping your jog up, just over your shoulder, you see him.

König is maybe 10 feet away running towards you, seeing this you start spiriting harder then before you push yourself to your full speed even though it feels like he’s running only at half his full speed and he’s closing the gap.

You feel your chest heat in excitement and a slight fear but just seeing him desire took over. You see a clearing up ahead and decide to pass it but you think:

‘Maybe I can trick him’ you look back and he’s so close. His foot steps are so loud behind you, you feel like it’s a whole heard following you, you’re panting heavy now and your horny thoughts make you wanna lay down and get your pussy mauled already. You know with how long he’s been running and searching for you he was hungry for you; after the week he’s had he’s ready to tear you apart, become the animal he is out there but inside you.

You reach the clearing and turn as if you were taking it left speeding up and then cutting down a path on the right you knew there was a heavily wooded path you could get lost in; you hear a slide followed by a crash and his hand nearly grabbed your back missing you. Looking over your shoulder once more, König had tried keeping up with you and turned on the lose dirt at full speed and slipped slightly his knee and hands catching his fall it didn’t stop him much from getting up and running again. You took the couple seconds to get lost in the trees and you finally found another path switching up and you turn around no sight of him.

‘I have to keep going. König must be pissed at falling’ you think.

You run some more and turn around once again looking around, he’s not there.

‘He’s slowed down?” You think and once more you look over your shoulder and with a thud you knock into him. König’s so strong he barely budged. His hands wrap around your upper arms squeezing you tightly to lock you in place.

You thrash around screaming out of fear and shock. You try ripping away but he��s got you tight.

“Let me go!” You holler.

Your eyes wide and staring at the masked man.

‘how did he get in front, how didn’t I hear him.’

he truly struck fear in you at this moment your heart felt like it could’ve exploded from its rate. You tried once again pushing off him or trying to; he just pulled you closer, so close his eyes felt like knifes and his hands are so tight he’ll make your arms bruise. His chest heaving up and down you can hear his breath deep in his chest. You feel your legs shake and your pussy begs for him.

“You almost had me” his voice raspy his accent thickly dripped. “Too bad Meine Maus, Meine Doe is so slow…” he teased slowly with a hidden smirk. You thrash and squirm hoping to get lose but he chuckles at your attempt. König starts to push you to walk backward.

“You’re so small out in these big woods I almost lost track of you…” he pricks you up bringing you eye level, your feet dangle and he makes holding you look so easy. “but when you stood at the cave entrance I knew there was a percentage you’d run away.” König chuckles to himself “I still waited in the corner. In the shadows of the cave hoping you’d step in… so innocently” you could practically hear him lick his lips and you knew under that hood he had a devilish grin.

“Please~” you beg not to be let go but for him to take you, for him to ravish your body.

“Please? You beg for mercy but I will not show you any.” He then takes you closer to his body making you wrap your legs around his waist as he drops to the floor which makes you lay on the ground.

König unzipping your jacket, ripping your tank off exposing your bare chest and his mouth immediately takes mouthfuls of your soft skin in his mouth making your back arch off the ground, rolling his tongue over your sensitive nipples, your mouth goes slack and you gasp in pleasure. His mouth works little red and purple bruises on your chest.

König’s hands are working on pulling off your pants and once they’re thrown to the side he can’t help himself from sitting back on his knees and watch himself peel your wet panties off, the way that there is a tiny wet spot on them really makes his cock twitch he thinks to himself ‘she smells of heat.’ You look down at him your breathing labored you catch König in a desired daze as he throws your panties to the side.

You take this opportunity to roll to all fours and make a run for it, you feel your adrenaline rush getting two feet on the ground, nude with only shoes on and everything slows when you feel a heavy hand on your ankle yanking you back tripping you to fall and König climbs on you pinning you down.

“Stop!” You scream out but you really mean don’t stop keep going, all the way. Please.

He pulls his hard cock out his breath is heavy and he pushes in you all the way; making himself whimper/grunt.

“Shut up!” He says raspy through tightened teeth.

“Fuck~” he whispers, thrusting hard; his thrusts make slap sounds between you two, your gasp and soft whimpers drive him to keep going hard and fast, his cock kinda stings from stretching you so fast which makes you whimper and stifle a moan. König reaches up from your hip grabbing a handful of your tit squeezing tight. After a couple blissful minutes or so the sting inside you slowly replaces with one of the best feelings, you tilt your head back, your eyes rolling back, he’s done it. He’s fucked your orgasm out of you in minutes, your walls start pulsing and milking his huge cock.

König’s never been so rough, his hands are holding you so tightly his cock is relentless in your soft warm cunt. He bites his lip and can’t help but moan out whimpering at every pulse, your pussy clenches in rhythm as he chases his own orgasm, you come down and slowly feel yourself becoming so over sensitive you whimper and whine “please!” Tears softly leak but your cunt leaks more as chills spread over your body and König continues just fucking his heart out he curls his back in towards you and he feels that familiar feeling crawling in his core; his balls slapping your ass at a steady pace.

König leans his chest on thrusting as much as he can fit in you, over and over. His mask slightly covers your face as he leans in and he licks your jaw then biting your neck a bit hard still panting hot air on you. He holds your skin in his mouth like it’s his last meal.

Hello feels his core burning and his knees slightly sting while digging into the ground. He pushes up to get a full picture in sight of your body jolting with every thrust.

“You’re crying so pretty for me… my sweet doe” he grunts out in between thrusts. You feel your body building another orgasm and your heart pounds and your chest burns and sweat sticks to both you and König. He suddenly loses rhythm in his thrust making you realize he’s almost done. His body is flexing tight his legs locking in place, his ass tight.

“Wait Im gonna cum again” you beg for just a few more thrusts but with the sound of your cries it has König spilling his loads inside you, hot streams of cum puddle in you and out of you as he still tries to thrust, his mouth hung open slack from the feeling of his orgasm his eyes rolled back and his body shook with tingles.

He tries to continue, but ends up pausing, catching his breath; he slides his cock out slowly. He’s panting so hard. You bite your lip looking at him feeling your orgasm at the edge slowly fade back slightly and all you want is to get that last orgasm and König wants nothing more than to give it to you.

König pushes your legs up to lay on your lower tummy then picks up his hood to expose his mouth and latches his mouth on your cunt rolling his tongue and sucking at your clit making you moan out so loud you’re sure you heard birds fly from their nests.

He laps at your clit as his fingers find their way into your pussy fucking you just as fast as his cock. König moans/whimpers at your sweet taste it makes him slightly suck harder. You feel your body shake and flex causing you to shut your eyes tight. Your cunt starts squirting and contracting pushing König’s fingers out and your orgasm hits so hard you see stars; it’s brain numbing.

König rides out your orgasm by licking a few stripes up and down then a few just to clean you up. And to taste you more. He sit back on his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then pulling his hood down over his mouth once more. You stay there catching your breath and also coming back down to earth. König’s never felt so much stress leave him at once: seeing you withered away on the forest flood.

“Is my Doe spent?” He smirks feeling himself slightly tired.

You softly nod your head slightly and laugh softly. He chuckles and gets up dusting himself off then tucking his cock back in his bottoms. König grabs your clothes in one hand then picking you up carrying you home like a toddler who’s fallen asleep in the car.

Thank you so very much for reading! I hope this is a good part 2! Please leave a comment I love reading them and if you reblog I love the captions! 🙏

[sleepybbie]

Hi Lily :) anon who requested the Blade thirst Drabble AND LET ME SAY WHEW THAT WAS HOT 🥵 I also loved your Dan Feng thirst drabble (two cocks omg) and I was wondering… could I send you a request for Dan Feng x reader x Yingxing thirst drabble please? Extra spicy 😏 thank you!!

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 | dan feng & yingxing drabble

a/n: oh my! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა i’ve been getting sooo much threesum requests lately, makes me realized if u guys want to be split open that badly (can’t blame u all either :3) tysm for requesting, darling<3

dan feng x fem!reader x yingxing

warning: threesum :,> anal and vaginal sex (they’re both just so excited! >:3) yingxing’s teases :( dan feng more on smooth talk <3 reader is yingxing’s lover ^^

the xianzhou has always known to be quite the tranquil place during evenings, when the dawn finally closes its eyes for the night sky to arrive and let its stars and bright moon shine, it wouldn’t be a surprise of why you found yourself fucking yourself mindless on YINGXING’S aching cock as he lays down, watching you as he guides your hips on such a soothing and peaceful night.

however it was strange, these weren’t like the usual loving nights you and yingxing would often do…there was like an itch over your shoulder. like a new presence hiding in the rooms.

truthfully, you had no idea of why your lover was smirking up on you as you rode his dick, pushing yourself back and forth like a vulnerable individual before he toys with your breasts, pushing himself deeper into the serene comfort of the pillows as the scented candles fragrances the room. you knew how cocky he could be at some times, but you couldn’t shake this feeling looping over your head that he may as well be planning something.

he pumps himself further into your creamy walls, leaks of his release overflowing out from your drooling cunt while you still kept going, whining the blacksmith’s name like it was the only word you knew in your mind while you jumped up and down on his chest. the pleasure aches in your stomach, tears flying out from your eyelids..voice filling in the night air of your bedroom. you couldn’t stop your hips from thrusting down on him. it was good, too good, your mind filled with incoherence…

you should’ve had trusted your instincts when you felt like an uninviting presence lurking in your room…because before you could chase on your second release, a hand pushes you down on yingxing’s chest out of nowhere.

your heartbeat palpitates hard on your chest, pants going faint as a familiar voice from the back echoes in the room.

“stay down, just like that..”

was that…?

you tried to turn your head to see if it was really the voice of the high elder, however his palm immediately pushed you down, yingxing’s hand gripping on your sweaty thighs.

“look who decided to come. make haste now, my dearest here wishes her pleasure to be fulfilled” yingxing says, cupping your cheek lovingly. DAN FENG scoffs, his hands bring your hips up until he faces with your ass cheeks, cunt filled with the brim with his bosom friend’s cum. slowly did he spreads them apart, and your eyes went wide in realization. oh aeons…

you felt a tip slap at your other hole, and just by touch alone did you know he was big.

“w-wait—

“you can take both of us, yes? come on, i’m sure you can..” yingxing cooed, his thumb brushing a small tear from your flushed eyelids. “besides, it’s not only two you’ll be taking…”

wait what?

before you could utter another word, the stretch on your pussy lengthens more, your eyes rolling back to the back of your head when you felt two tips enter both of your holes, a high pitched moan choking out from your throat as dan feng manages to push himself inside of you. he stays still for a moment while you squirm, one cock plunged in your asshole while your core was plunged with two. they haven’t even started to move, yet you were already so loud. yingxing chuckles, his hand now on your hip as he moves his head to look at dan feng.

“i told you…”

“hmph, so she can take three…” you hear dan feng reply to him, however your mind was in a haze, trying to adjust to both of their sizes, your breath shaking from the aftershocks.

once they began to move, you were left with a babbling nonsense escaping your lips, feeling them hit the right spots everywhere in you. your tits bouncing while yingxing plays with your nipples, dan feng leaving bitemarks at the back of your neck as he fucks both your cunt and your asshole to the oblivion. your cries went louder, a tear falling down as the nasty wet sounds of skin to skin became more faster and harsher, sandwiched between the two members of the high cloud quintet.

“you’re doing amazing, sweetheart…never knew you could take three…”

“praising your lover in bed…hm…so that’s common?”

“oh no need to be so formal, dan feng..”

you couldn’t believe they were chatting so casually while the fucked your brain to pieces. their cocks weren’t in synch however unlike in their battles together, one was in while the other was out, bringing you a type of euphoric pleasure that was not like other in the luofu. yingxing’s thrusts were fast, gentle, but they never fail to hit the deepest parts within you. same goes for the high elder with his merciless moves of his hips, who seemed to enjoy the same as his dear friend did, holding on your arms while your head pushes back, staring at the ceiling from ecstasy. you were fucked stupid, to the point you couldn’t think straight, brain mushed with nothing but a begging wreck of lust.

“o-oh fuck, oh fuck…you feel so good…” yingxing groans, tongue slithering the valley between your breasts before he sucks deep in your neck, leaving yet another mark on you.

“hah…so this is how human reproduction feels like..”

“too bad for a vidyadhara,” yingxing teases him, and dan feng groans.

a tight knot folds in your stomach as they moved faster, fucking you with full force like it was the way to bring an end to the denizens of abundance. your poor cervix was being kissed all over and over again by their huge tips, non stop repeats. your mewls went higher, feeling your high approach at the edge of your stomach. yingxing and dan feng weren’t going to last much either…

“c-crap i think i’m gonna…”

“o-oh dear long..”

yingxing holds on your hips, picking up the pace as dan feng follows by. this was fast, far too fast…they were going to fucking break you at this point. in each increase of their speed, your climax spills out of your abused womb, a moaning mess filling your bedroom. no matter what you could never follow up with their quick paces. dan feng held you tight in place, his hands would leave bruises on your skin.

yingxing releases first, pumping you full with his cum until you were a crying mess, his load spilling out of you and on dan feng’s second cock, until it stains the sheets and onto the floor. fat plumps of his cum spilling all over. the vidyadhara’s grip was strong on your arms, leaving fingermarks on them until he too came a lot, releasing on both of your holes with his huge load, stuffing you full straight to your entrance. their releases mixed altogether along with yours, filling your holes to the brim.

your tongue lolled out from your mouth before you passed out and fell on yingxing’s chest. yingxing lets out a breathy laugh, pushing your sweaty strands of hair behind your ear before he kisses your forehead. dan feng finally pulls himself out of you, the mixture of his and yingxing’s cum leaking out of your hole. he pushes his hair back, watching as the trail from the shaft of his dick fall down to the floor.

“that…that wasn’t too bad…is she going to be alright though?” yingxing smiles at him, brushing your head as you slumbered on his chest.

“see? we should do this often more…what do you say?”

[elliereject]

ifhy .1

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, (I LIKE EM’ A LITTLE CRAZY!), angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* im back, ok not really this has been rotting in my drafts forever and I was reading it back and I was like damn I lowk cooked with this. It’s unfinished as of RN but this is only 1/3 of the fic im just splitting it up so u don’t have to wait months,,for it..like my other fics..DONT ASK ME ABT THOSE, cuz I don’t got an answer. IN THE MEAN TIME ENJOY THIS! <3

* mdni (but like if u do wtvr, nothing crazy happens in this chapter)

wc ~ 1.6k

pt. 2 here

Ellie Williams fucking hated you.

Surprisingly, she didn’t at first. In fact, she was in love with you, bordering infatuation.

She had seen you for the first time at the local bookstore before the semester started, you were flipping through a book about time and relativity with a concentrated look on your face. She smiled to herself when she saw you push up onto your toes to reach for another book but to no avail. She took this as an opportunity to walk up to you and reach over your head to grab it, making sure to flex her lean, tattooed arm before placing it in your hand.

Her jade eyes locked on yours and your face heated immediately, you mumbled a “Thank you.” Before scurrying past her to the checkout.

Imagine her surprise when on the first day of classes, she walks into her astrophysics course and sees you, doodling in your notebook with that same concentrated look on your face.

Of course, she sits next to you, flashing that charming smile that has sweat gathering at your hands. She tells you her name then asks for yours and learns about your major, favourite course, and how you’re staying in a little apartment just outside the campus before more students and your professor filed in. You didn’t know why but you just felt so comfortable telling her things, She laughed at your corny jokes and made even cornier ones, and she admired the doodles that covered your notebook and the little duck pen you used.

You didn’t want to speak too soon, but it was safe to say you were harbouring a tiny bit of a crush on her.

Ellie on the other hand, was completely ready to admit it. She felt her love for you grow each second she was around you. Your smile quite literally felt like the sun shining upon her, your laugh made her want to drop her studies of space to pick up stand-up comedy just so she could make it her job to make you laugh. In her eyes, everything you did was perfect. Her thoughts were completely consumed by you, you, you.

And for a few months, things were amazing! You had been introduced to Dina and Jesse and even spent Halloween hanging out with the trio watching horror movies and eating each other's weight in candy. When the holidays rolled around you and Ellie, along with the others, cozied up under some blankets and made fun of cheesy Hallmark movies while she tried her hardest not to interlock her hands with yours even after your pinky brushed against hers for the sixth time.

During finals, Ellie and you organized designated study days that usually ended in giggling at stupid memes on each other's phones or late-night food runs. Of course, there were lingering touches and flirtatious glances here and there but you were too shy to act on it and Ellie would rather die than make you uncomfortable so she kept you just at arm's length. Besides, she knew you were too timid to approach anyone else, so in a way she had you all to herself.

Then, you met him. Some motherfucker whose name she didn’t care to remember. However, she did remember the innate feeling of anger that surged through her body when you gushed to her about him and how he was a history major and the way his glasses framed his face perfectly and whatever the fuck else you found interesting about him.

She nodded and laughed and smiled along with you when you would drone on about him but would excuse herself to the bathroom to tend to the crescent-shaped wounds in her palms from digging her fingers into them so hard.

She tried her best to not show these negative emotions to you because she knew how much you didn’t like when she got mad but fuck was it hard. Especially that one night when you were out with him and you hadn’t replied to her texts in over 5 hours. Man did her drywall take some damage that night.

And when you finally did reply you had completely disregarded her message and went on to boast about the time you had and how gentlemanly he was. All she could do was reply with a dry “sounds like fun🙂” before she went back to throwing a tantrum around her room and tormenting that poor wall…she’d have to remember to buy some spackle before the end of the semester.

Then, there was the time she trekked over to your apartment with some pizza for a surprise movie night and saw the bouquet placed in front of your door. She set the box down to pick up the flowers and read who it was from, her body reacted before she could rethink. She tore the flowers from the beautifully wrapped packaging and stomped on them over and over and over until all that was left were broken stems and tattered petals.

Thankfully, you got home just a few minutes later and missed her outburst. You gasped when you saw the smashed flowers and asked her what had happened, she shrugged and lied easily, claiming it was like this when she got there. She let out a breath when you shook your head and sighed, saying it was probably your next-door neighbor who had always been a bit of a grouch.

She had genuinely thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding her true feelings for both you and him but it was when you gleefully announced that he was officially your boyfriend she knew she was done for. You squealed and pulled her in for a hug but it felt like her heart had shriveled up into a clump of black coal and woosh like magic, her love for you had turned into something twisted, something possessive.

It was when you invited her over to your apartment to eat dinner with him that she had started considering the idea that you knew she had a crush on you and you were just fucking with her emotions for fun.

How could you start dating, let alone seeing some random ass motherfucker when she was right here! She knew she could treat you better than he could even dream of, she knew everything about you and she’d make it known to you how perfect she was for you, one way or another.

That night at dinner she sat uncomfortably as you fluttered around your tiny kitchen, adding last-minute touches to the spaghetti you made and despite the grumble in her tummy it felt like she had no appetite when she watched the hungry way he looked at you, as if you were a juicy steak and he was a starved wolf.

Once you were finished plating the food and placing it on the table you sat down eagerly and tried your best to mediate the obvious tension.

“Soo uh, Ellie, you’ve been really into watercolour recently right?” You beamed.

“Uh-huh.” She said dryly, twirling her spaghetti around her fork.

“Oh that’s cool, you know watercolour as an art form has been around since Egyptian times! It’s funny to think that like—Cleopatra was painting with water and grapes or something!” He spoke and you giggled like it was the funniest joke in the world. She shot you a look that said really? because she knows she could make a joke that was way funnier, and would expel your real laugh.

“That’s cool. You know how to shut the fuck up?” She mumbled into her bite of spaghetti.

“Sorry?” He asked and you gave her a sideways glance.

She smiled tightly and swallowed before answering, “Just said that’s cool!”

Dinner dragged on as he droned about the history of the Renaissance or fucking Christopher Columbus, she didn’t actually know, she tuned him out. After you cleared the plates, you ushered them into your cozy living room for a movie and when you excused yourself to the bathroom she plopped down on the couch next to him, subtly pulling out her switchblade.

“So, Kevin—“

“Actually my name—“

“I don’t give a fuck what your name is, matter fact I don’t give a fuck about you in general. What are your intentions with ★?”

The man tensed up as Ellie expertly spun the blade around in her fingers.

“Uh—I mean, she seems cool and dating her has been pr—“

“Cool?” Ellie scoffed, “She’s fucking perfect, and I hope you know whatever you have going on with her right now? It won’t last. Soon she’s gonna see you for the limp-ass motherfucker you are.”

He was taken aback, “What?—I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?”

“Your whole existence offends me.” She rasped, inching her blade closer to his neck. “She’s not meant to be with you.”

He furrowed his brows, “You like her, don’t you?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Before he could reply you were back from the bathroom and she slipped her blade back into her pocket and got up with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What were you two talking about?” You asked as you grabbed a bag of chips from your small coffee table and tore into them.

“Oh you know, girl talk.” She smiled, digging her blunt nails into his shoulder. Translation: don’t say a fucking word.

You rolled your eyes playfully like you even had a clue of what was going on, “He’s not a girl, dumbass.”

She shrugged, stepping away from her previous seat to plop down on the other small sofa.

The rest of the night proceeded relatively smoothly, your boyfriend had been so shaken up by Ellie’s words that even with you sitting next to him he kept his distance with worried glances toward Ellie now and then. Ellie crunched on her popcorn happily and watched the movie with a satisfied smile and a chipper aura.

— ★

🤔 shall I put out the second part? only time (and interactivity! 💝 pls don’t let this flop) will tell!

[benedictscanvas]

If you’re still taking requests, I have an idea that’s been PLAGUING me in the best way possible: Jamie meets reader and she doesn’t know him at first and then maybe a few dates later she’s like “omg you were on that shitty reality show” like she does not pay attention to football at all idk I just thought it would be cute 🩵🩵 I absolutely adore your writing 😊

i love it when an idea is plaguing. thank you for being so lovely in your request, i appreciate it and you so very much <3 ALSO i ended up playing dnd unexpectedly yesterday, so another drabble tonight and then a new chapter of be still, my foolish heart tomorrow!! | 1.4k words, tw language

You're sat in the Crown and Anchor for what will now be your sixth date. Jamie swears that it's your seventh, and that your first date was actually when the two of you stood on the doorstep of your house for three hours before you finally realised how long you'd been chatting.

You'd been assembling a swing in the garden out front of your house and Jamie happened to be walking by. He stopped to ask if you needed any help and that was it. It was eleven o'clock when he finally went on his way with your number written on a piece of paper that he clutched in his fist.

But it couldn't be a date, you'd say, because he hadn't kissed you when he left. Realistically, you just enjoyed the scrunched up face he made when you playfully argued with him about it, but he didn't need to know that yet.

You were meeting his friends for the first time. It felt early, but Jamie insisted how fun they were and that after you'd met them, the two of you would be able to hang out way more because you could come and visit him at work. You weren't sure why you'd have to meet them here first, but he said it would all make sense.

Nothing about this made sense, because you were currently the only ones in the pub, stuffed into a corner booth. Jamie's thigh brushed yours as he jiggled it, seemingly as full of nervous energy as you.

"Why is no one else here, Jamie?" you whispered, lest the woman behind the bar who looked not to be messed with heard you, "Is something going on?"

"Oh, I jus' booked it out," he says nonchalantly. You gape at him. It had always been clear he had some money, but never this much. Your first thought was the fact that he'd only ever been to your house, never you to his. Granted, it had only been three times so far anyway, but still.

"Are you like...rich-rich?" you ask tentatively, then carry on talking before he can answer, "That sounds terrible, oh god, you don't have to answer that. I don't care either way, you know, I just like-"

"Y/N, babe," he interrupts you, squeezing you into his side, "I know what y' getting at. I'm pretty loaded, I'm not gonna lie, but I didn't want y' to know until I was sure about ya."

Jamie was sure about you? That was news to you. You were a little nervous about how early it was to be sure, but it wasn't as if you weren't sold on him too. You were practically besotted with the man really, even if you were hesitant to tell him.

As if he could read the surprise on your face, he opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted-

"Hey! We're not late, are we?"

There were a few men congregating at the doorway, and the woman at the bar waved them in, greeting them like they were old friends. There were far more people than you'd expected, around ten men and two women crowding into the pub. There was no way all of you would fit around this corner booth.

You crammed any anxiety to the bottom of your stomach and stood up to greet everyone.

"Hi! I'm Y/N, it's so lovely to meet all of you!"

"What the fuck guys?"

Jamie's interjection cut your introductions short, just as you were about to hug the man closest to you who was beaming until Jamie spoke up and ruined his mood.

"I invited Isaac, Colin and Keeley. What are you all doing here?"

They had the decency to look a little sheepish. So that was why Jamie hadn't warned you that there would be 12 of them.

"We all wanted to come and meet the girl you've been droning on about for weeks, bruv," one man chimed in, "We tried drawing straws but it just turned into a huge fucking argument. So here we are. Trust me, mate, like 30 of us wanted to come, so count yourself lucky."

"I didn't fuckin' invite 30 of ya!" he exclaimed, winding a protective hand around your waist. Rather than being intimidated, you now felt incredibly touched that Jamie had been talking about you enough that his friends wanted to meet you so badly, "Did you lot even think about how overwhelming y' might be? Fuckin' idiots."

"Oi! We're on our best fucking behaviour, Tartt. Stop moping and introduce us, you prick."

Okay, so that was definitely Roy. You'd heard at least a little bit about him, that he was sort of a friend/mentor of Jamie's but quite...harsh. That definitely wasn't the word Jamie had used, but it worked.

"Okay! Fuckin' hell, right then..."

And he went around the group. They all pulled chair up to the few tables surrounding yours but didn't crowd you too much. There was Isaac, the one who'd explained things when they came in, Colin and Keeley, of course, who you fell in love with instantly. One group who sat slightly separately were Rebecca, Roy, Ted and Beard who all seemed significantly older than Jamie to be his mates, but you didn't want to question it when everyone was being so nice.

"So, we haven't seen you, so that must mean you've been watching this one on the telly, right?"

Rebecca gestures to Jamie with a warm smile, but when you turn to him, confused, he looks like a deer in the headlights.

"On the telly? In what?"

Rebecca looks suitably shocked now, staring from Jamie to you and back to Jamie.

"She doesn't...?"

Jamie hangs his head and you're left even more confused. You're left staring at the side of his face until it hits you: you'd never connected the dots before but now Rebecca had mentioned TV and you were looking right at him...

"Oh my god!" you exclaim suddenly, making everyone around the table jump, even though the younger lads weren't paying any attention, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

He looks thoroughly guilty.

"Look, Y/N, I jus' wanted to get to know y' without-"

You weren't finished though, still babbling away to yourself as you stared at him, imagining him as he was when you'd seen him through the screen.

"I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything! Not once you'd helped me, but I suppose if I'd realised maybe I would have been more wary of you. You were terrible on that show! All my friends hated you, and I guess I did too, although I still had a bit of a crush, I can't lie-"

You trailed off when you saw the expressions on everyone's faces. The silence was only broken when Roy burst into loud laughter, throwing his head back in a way you guessed was rare for him.

"You know me...from reality TV?" Jamie said, enunciating every syllable and looking at you in terror. You smiled at him easily, reaching up to push a stray hair back from his face.

"Can't believe I didn't realise it, but yeah. Changes nothing for me, you know. It was a couple years ago right? No more dating shows on the horizon for you?"

If you'd realised this immediately, yes you would have been more on your guard. But you didn't, he was clearly very ashamed of his time on there and you were already falling for him and how fucking nice he was to you. Like every move he made was deliberate. It actually made a lot of sense now, if he had a past to make up for.

It took him a few moments of processing, but he was able to pull you into a side and plant a long, lingering kiss on your forehead eventually.

"No more dating shows," he said, full of relief, "Also, I'm a Premier League footballer, since you've taken that one so well."

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head.

"You're a what?!"

Roy's laugh echoes long into your night, as do the laughs of the rest of Jamie's friends, or teammates as you quickly come to know them. Jamie's more relaxed than he's ever been with you and yeah, you can get why he was sure about this now.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod​ @sawaagyapong​ @rystarkov​ @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.” 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.” 

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.” 

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid. 

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look. 

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees. 

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.” 

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on.  I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.” 

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes. 

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?” 

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging. 

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously. 

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly. 

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.” 

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it. 

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours. 

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.” 

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.” 

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands. 

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion. 

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you. 

~

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part. 

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look. 

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.” 

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air. 

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse. 

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action. 

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer. 

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun. 

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun. 

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back. 

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you. 

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs. 

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side, 

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.” 

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow. 

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin. 

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.” 

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out. 

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread. 

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen. 

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest. 

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.” 

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle. 

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.” 

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth. 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.” 

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied. 

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding. 

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.” 

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point. 

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed. 

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.” 

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain. 

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm. 

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch. 

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you. 

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut. 

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin. 

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair. 

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her. 

“Trial and error.” 

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap. 

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.” 

Ellie shrugged. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking. 

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.” 

“Must be nice.”  

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.” 

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.” 

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be. 

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know. 

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford. 

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.” 

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.” 

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. 

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.” 

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure. 

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic. 

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.” 

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.” 

You snorted.

~

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off. 

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable. 

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice. 

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.” 

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.” 

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her. 

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.” 

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up. 

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left.  “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that. 

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest. 

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement. 

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender. 

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder. 

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead. 

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder. 

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt. 

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering. 

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased. 

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.” 

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later. 

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.” 

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?” 

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.” 

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?” 

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens. 

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel. 

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said. 

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?” 

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.” 

She did not elaborate. 

~

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound. 

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did. 

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together. 

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.” 

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.” 

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice? 

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring. 

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense? 

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.” 

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.” 

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.” 

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.” 

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?” 

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you. 

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.” 

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart. 

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?” 

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips. 

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?” 

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.” 

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.” 

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.” 

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you. 

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.  

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to. 

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave. 

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right. 

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.” 

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head. 

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind. 

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before. 

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.” 

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x