#i sometimes just watch them talk and forget to read the subs

[hooned]

three pretty best friends 💌

[venusiangguk]

the art of trying | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst

>>word count: 29.3k 😁

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, oc club era 🪩🥂, oc heart to heart with…, enter mr park seojoon !!, budding friendships 🥰, mending of relationships, enter dilf !!, reconciliation finally, but still we yearn, and jk is still a little stewpid, however!! he is doing his best!!, mostly oc pov i think, warning for a little bit of sad bc she is sad !!, but not too sad 😼, enter jock !!, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank u, etc., fore play in the form of a lil dry humping 🫶🏻, finishes (multiple),, oral (m & f), dirty talk, lovesick gross smitteness 👎🏻, jreampie 👍🏻,  and finally, enter nari !! (🧋)

>>notes: finally am i right 🤣

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: you’re trying to forget jungkook, but he’s trying to make sure you remember why you shouldn’t. 

It’s the middle of January and I haven’t learned to be okay without you, yet. The wind outside is harsh and cold. It hurts my feelings sometimes. 

 It reminds me of you, sometimes, too.

 I still miss you.

 “Girl, what does that even mean?”

 Your laptop gets slammed shut, and you whip your head around to see Binna. Your very best friend that has been caught red-handed, reading over your shoulder.

 “Do you mind?” you say with narrowed eyes.

 “I do actually,” she says, walking around the couch and plopping next to you. 

 You roll your eyes and rephrase with something she’s hopefully less likely to have an answer to. “Can I help you?”

 Binna looks stumped for approximately .4 seconds –not nearly long enough to be satisfying– and then she’s saying, “No, but you can help yourself. Please go to therapy. I am begging you and also I will pay for it.” 

 “Die.”

 “C’mon, you’ve been sad for like almost 2 months,” she groans, “and it’s like… tangible, ___. I walk into the house and I can feel it. It just permeates the air and– look, it even killed the plant.”

 Binna’s pointed finger guides your gaze to the small succulent on the windowsill and it’s a bit pathetic how your eyes start to tear up because it is in fact, the tiny succulent Jeongguk gave you so many months ago. You had done a good job of taking care of it for a while, his occasional texts reminding you to water it had been helpful. But lately you haven’t even really been taking care of yourself, and the little plant has, unfortunately, become collateral damage. 

 You also don’t get those texts anymore.

 With big watery eyes and a fat bottom lip, you turn back to her and she sighs. Grabs the remote and pauses whatever is playing on the tv. This makes Jade squawk, something about her watching it and it being the best part but Binna is having none of it.

 “No, this is actually dire. She’s crying over the plant, Jade. We have to intervene, it’s time.”

 Jade pouts for a moment, looking between the tv and you as if she can’t decide which is more pressing. When she crawls from her place where she was laying on the floor to your feet, it seems her decision is made. She rests her chin on your knee.

 “Still sad over the dilf?” she asks.

 You nod pitifully.

 “She was openly writing melancholy about him… it's a public cry for help,” Binna adds.

 With a nod of understanding, Jade says, “Writing can be a good way to get your thoughts together and work through them.”

 Choosing not to tell them that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to work through all the thoughts because there are just too many and it hurts too bad, you stay quiet.

 It’s not an awkward silence that takes over the living room, but you can tell that Binna and Jade are trying to think of something to say. Jade ends up being the one to interrupt the quiet.

 “Has he reached out to you at all?”

 The unanswered text on your phone started as a temptation, but it’s ended as a little memo that helps put things into perspective. 

 Did you get home okay?

 Jeongguk made his decision and he only sent you that text because he let you leave. 

 He sent you that text after he made it so incredibly clear that he wasn’t going to let you stay in his life.

 Despite you telling him you’d think about things, let him know what you decided in regards to you and him– he really didn’t leave much room for you to do that. He’s hard-headed and he’s extreme and when he makes his mind up about something… it’s not likely anyone will be able to change it. Especially if it has to do with Nari.

 And it’s not like you don’t get it. You do, to some extent at least. 

 Nari is his baby and Nari is his priority. Just like she should be. That’s self-explanatory and easy to understand. If Jeongguk felt you being in his life somehow messed with his priorities and decided it wasn’t going to work out between you two after giving it some thought– it wouldn’t have been easy, but you would have accepted it nonetheless. 

 But part of you believes he didn’t give it much thought at all because one moment he was washing you, taking care of you, kissing you. Making you feel like you were his and he was yours and like he cared. Like he was always going to be there; like he was endless. 

 Then the next he was telling you it was all basically a mistake to him. That he didn’t know if he had the room or the time for you anymore. Like you were an amenity with a timeframe. Something that was worthwhile, until it wasn’t anymore. Something nice that was momentarily useful, something that perhaps made his life better, easier in a way… but something that ultimately wasn’t necessary.  

 The turnaround was too abrupt and too abrasive and too rash for you to accept that it wasn’t impulsive. That he truly thought it through. You think that’s what’s hindering you from moving on. 

 A part of you almost wishes that you could fool yourself into believing he did mull it over. That he simply ‘changed his mind’. Because that’s better than the uncertainty that comes with him cutting you out so heedlessly. 

 If Jeongguk had a change of heart– it means that, at one point, his heart was sure of you; his heart did want you. 

 It’s deceiving, but it hurts less than the uncertainty. 

 The ache that comes with longing for what was is concrete and irrefutable in a bittersweet sense because at least in that case, what you’re yearning for was something that you had; something that was real. 

 You can’t pinpoint the pain that comes with uncertainty. There’s too much room for doubt, too many times you can mistake a ‘what if’ for a ‘what was’. There are too many ways you can spin the past if you’re not certain of it. Too many different outcomes you can craft. There are too many ways that uncertainty can hurt

 Jeongguk’s 180 took place barely within a few hours. Specific changes were instantaneous. Like the quiet unease that shrouded the atmosphere; the quick developing doubt that inevitably tainted both your affections. In all honestly, you could feel the shift as soon as he walked into the playroom after talking to Nari’s mom.

 Dasom.

 The things you feel when you think about her make you feel so ugly. Like your heart is rotten within your core, ruining you from the inside because it’s so easy to blame her and resent her for everything that occurred. Easy to pin the earth-shattering, tectonic shift in your and Jeongguk’s dynamic on her. It’s easy to hate her for the things she said about you, for the thoughts she put into Jeongguk’s head. But deep inside, right next to your rotten heart, there’s something small that’s telling you it’s easiest to hate her because you aren’t her. 

 An achy heaviness levels in your gut and you press your eyes shut tightly, consciously making an effort to not tear up. It still hurts so badly. In a way you don’t even really understand. You’re not sure if it stems from jealousy or insecurity or maybe both. 

 But there is something so excruciatingly painful, something that feels so devastatingly unfair, about Jeongguk and Dasom.

 It’s absurd and it’s stupid to let an ex get to you. You know that and you’re aware that it’s the past and that it’s over between them… but when you think about all of the history? It’s enough to overthink and compare. To wonder ‘what if?’, ask yourself ‘why?’ and ‘does he still?’.  

 Because they loved each other; were in love with each other. They had the sweetest little baby girl together. Dasom will always know Jeongguk in a way that you won’t. She will always know versions of him that you never will. She will always have a part of him and be a part of his life. She will always know him longer than you. No matter what –even if you and Jeongguk had stayed together, fallen in love, and gotten married– she was still there first. In a sense, you won’t ever be able to catch up to her– to them or what they had.

 You almost have to laugh at yourself for thinking like that because it’s so pathetically dramatic and pointless. Because yes, letting an ex get to you is both absurd and stupid. But especially so when you let it get to you after months. 

 Bitterly, you consider that maybe Jeongguk was right. Maybe you were too young for him, and maybe you really weren’t ready for everything that came with him.

 When your thoughts are reeled back in, you tell Jade about Jeongguk’s text you never answered.

 “God what a whore,” Binna groans. “What kind of person asks that after cutting you out of their life?”

 “A man,” Jade reasons.

 It makes you chuckle a small laugh, and the silence that settles this time is a little more comfortable. A couple of minutes pass with the three of you pretending to watch Jade’s show when Binna clears her throat.

 She tries to keep her voice light and casual, acts as if she’s just making conversation. “You’ve been lurking, no?”

 She will be disappointed when you admit that you’ve tried. But she’ll also be pleased to know that you simply can’t.

 “He doesn’t have Instagram.” You shrug your shoulders as if it’s not a big deal and like your recently searched isn’t full of accounts that have some variation of Jeongguk’s name in the user.

 “He probably has Facebook, he’s old,” Jade says absently, eyes glued to the television once again.

 Binna gets a worried look on her face when she can physically see the lightbulb go off in your head. Then her expression shifts into one of tired disapproval. “Thank you for that, Jade.”

 Jade’s reply is simply a preoccupied, half-hearted ‘My bad’.

 But you do not care and your phone is already out. 

 You’re trying to move on, you are. Truly. One peek won’t hurt. Also–

 “He’s not old, he’s only 29,” you say distractedly, waiting for the app to download before the phone is promptly plucked from your hands. “Hey–”

 “Give me that,” Binna interrupts, “If you look him up, you will come up in his ‘people you may know’. I don’t want that for you, and you don’t want that for you. Trust me.”

 With a frowny pout on your face, you settle back into that couch. “Well… I don’t want you coming up in whatever that is either, right?” 

 “You do not need to worry about that because I am a professional and I am crazy. What’s his last name again?”

 Professional and crazy sound like adjectives that are not supposed to go together, but you don’t argue and when she pulls out her own phone, you answer her. 

 Binna’s sleuthing seems to be entertaining enough for Jade to abandon her show, moving from her place at your feet to a seat next to Binna looking over her shoulder. Nervousness keeps you from joining, quietly just waiting for the few moments it takes for Binna to find what she’s looking for. 

 “Ah! Jeon Jeongguk, 30, C–” she gasps, eyes wide as she looks at you, “you didn’t tell us he was a CEO!”

 You shrug. “Didn’t seem important. And I told you already, he’s 29. Not 30.”

 Binna’s brows furrow before she’s looking at her phone again, bringing it close to her face and using her thumbs to zoom in on the profile picture. “Is this not him?”

 “No, that’s him,” Jade confirms, face close to Binna’s. “I’ve seen enough pictures of him in the groupchat that I also see him in my dreams.”

 “Please don’t dream about him,” you say musingly, reaching to snatch the phone from Binna just like she did to you.

 It is in fact your Jeon Jeongguk pictured on the phone. His profile picture is candid, him smiling wide with those puffs under his eyes, probably mid-laugh. But it still seems professional enough, he’s in one of his many expensive suits, with his tie on, and his hair done sleek.

 And you can feel how a small, sad smile comes to rest on your lips. You carefully click on the picture to see when it was posted.

 Just a couple of weeks ago. 

 And the small, sad smile gets even smaller and even sadder. He looks happy enough, and you hope he is. But it stings a little for some reason. 

 Then you remember why you pilfered the phone in the first place.

 Looking over his profile, you see the basic information. His alumn, his job, his hometown. You click the ‘about info’ option below all of that and it’s then that you see his birthday, and that his age is indeed 30. And you feel silly, a little embarrassed, for not knowing. Or maybe forgetting?

 Though, you’re almost positive you didn’t forget. That you wouldn’t have forgotten something like his birthday. That you couldn’t have because Jeongguk was your favorite person. 

 You trade Binna her phone back for yours.

 The photos in your camera roll on his alleged birthday are from what you thought was a random day that Jeongguk asked you to come over.

 It was kinda spontaneous for him. Considering he was someone that usually liked to plan, getting a random phone call from him while you were still at work was out of character. He simply asked if you wanted to come over. Just laze around with him, watch a movie, or something. Stay the night, maybe. He sounded slightly boyish when he asked, like he was trying to mask the hopeful excitement in his voice. You told him yes, of course, but that you wouldn’t be able to come until after work. 

 When you showed up at his, still clad in your work uniform, he was beaming. You barely made it through the door before he was literally giving you the shirt off his back to change into, helping you out of your polo and khakis.

 In the photo you’re looking at, your head is in Jeongguk’s lap and he’s shirtless looking at the tv with his hand over your mouth. You had been purposefully asking too many questions, just like you always did. The picture was taken from below so the angle is a little funny.

 And even though you’re smiling at the memory, the image turns blurry as you start to tear up. Something about it warms your heart while simultaneously breaking it. 

 Apparently, he didn’t want gifts, or anything extravagant. Seeing as he omitted telling you it was the one day of the year that everything was supposed to be about him, the one day he was supposed to be doted on. Jeongguk just wanted to be with you. Just your company was enough for him. Just you were enough for him.

 “He never told me it was his birthday, but he asked me to come over,” you tell your friends, with your thumb swiping through the many pictures you took that day. “Like me just being there was a good enough birthday present or something?”

 Jade can hear the waver in your voice, and she gently says, “Maybe we shouldn’t look at old pics if it’s going to make us sad, hmm?”

 “Maybe we should delete them, hmm?” Binna chirps.

 You hear them but you continue till you get through the whole night and the next morning. The tears are so heavy in your eyes, but you try to laugh, dabbing at your waterline with your sleeve when you say, “I like– really miss him, guys,” before you end up just covering your face with your palms and letting yourself have your moment.

 Jade coos, scooching closer to you, pulling you to her side. She rubs your shoulder soothingly. “I know you do, ___,” she says quietly. 

 Your roommate has really come a long way since the first conversation you had with her about Jeongguk. The other roommate, however, seems like she is regressing. 

 “We have got to get you out of the house and onto another dick. Your vibrator is tired and your pillow probably smells like the ocean because of all the tears it’s soaked up. It probably needs a wash, too.”

 “Binna!” Jade scolds.

 “No, like I’m so serious right now,” Binna defends, “I understand being sad over a breakup, but it’s been months. And over a grown man who lets his literal ex-wife, whom he divorced, still have such a pull on him? Like c’mon. What the fuck is that?”

 “She’s allowed to be sad! And those things you listed make her sadness even more warranted. You were holed up in your room for months too, at one point,” Jade reminds, “But it was over a boyband breaking up.”

 “In hindsight, it was very good for Zayn to leave,” Binna amends before giving you her attention. “Listen I get it, but I just want you to be happy again… You know?”

 When you peek up at her with a sniffle, she looks sad.

 “I don’t want you to get stuck in the sad and the hurt, ___,” she says quietly, “because sometimes when people get stuck in the sad and in the hurt, they can’t like– get unstuck. You know? Nothing gets better. The depression just swallows them and they don’t ever feel better and– I want you to feel better.”

 Binna’s not the most eloquent, but she has the biggest heart. And you know she means well, and despite how stuck in the sad and the hurt you truly are, you know that she does have a point. 

 You have to brood over it for a moment, and you kind of feel like you’re outside of your body when you agree. Like you’re hearing someone else say, “Okay, where are we going?”

 ~~~

 The club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. Your feet hurt because the heels you’re wearing are too high. You figured the weeks following New Year’s would be less crowded, that everyone would be recovering from blackouts and bad decisions. The sheer number of people around you tells you otherwise. You’re not having a good time. 

 When you tell your roommates as much, their response is handing you a shot. A few shots.

 And since alcohol is essentially magic, with every shot glass that is emptied down your throat, the night grows more enjoyable and less likely to be remembered. The lights turn pretty, and the ache in your feet becomes dull and muted, just like the one in your heart. 

 You’re dancing how a person who doesn’t know how to would. Hips swaying, arms occasionally going above your head before slinking back down and over your body. The bass in the club makes it feel like everything is vibrating and it makes you laugh dumbly, eyes squeezing shut as you giggle to yourself. You know Binna and Jade are close by, but it feels like you’re in your own little world.

 “I feel good,” you yell over the music to no one in particular. Eyes still closed, a loose-lipped smile lingering at the corners of your mouth.

 The warmth of a body can be felt behind you, though it’s not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into the touch, the heat, a little more. A chiffon chuckle is puffed over the crown of your head. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm, their grip trying to steady you.

 “You look good, too,” the body behind you says, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin.

 You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation, at the words. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.

 When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.

 The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.

 “Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “I– yeah, um… thanks, you too.”

 You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.

 His other hand is moving, too, and your track it till it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “I’m Seo-joon,” he tells you.

 Introducing yourself is the automatic reply he gets, and he hums, eyes scanning your face. The hand that tucked your hair trails down your arm until his fingers meet yours. They flirt for a moment before they lace together. His movements seem shy, but they’re actually very calculated. Well practiced. Like he does this a lot. Like he knows exactly how to get what he wants. 

 The realization sobers you some. Not enough to clear all of the drunken fog in your head, but enough to make you vaguely more alert. 

 “I think you’re a… a little too good at this for me, Mr. Seo-joon.” 

 Seo-joon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child who’s been caught in a lie. Then he’s recovering, laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “I don’t know, you might be the one that’s too good? Too smart? Read me like an open book.”

 There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sluggishly, eyelids heavy. 

 “Are you not?” you ask him, coquettishly referring to him being easy to read. “Aren’t you here for the usual?”

 He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging, like there’s no point in denying the obvious. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he asks, “And why are you here, ___? The usual, as well?”

 Seo-joon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 

 “I’m here to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”

 He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That’s about as ‘usual’ as it gets, ___,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”

 And when he molds his lips to yours, you expect the kiss to feel as good as the lead-up. 

 You expect the butterflies in your belly to flutter wildly– not go still. You expect the hands roaming over your body to feel rousing– not misplaced, like they aren’t supposed to be there. When you open your mouth to let him lick inside, you expect it to feel right. But it doesn’t. Sure, it doesn’t feel wrong, necessarily. But it doesn’t feel like it should. He doesn’t feel like he should.

 But you want him to. You want Seo-joon to feel right, and you want him to feel good. You want it so badly that you go home with him. 

 ~~~

 The cab ride is nothing but a precursor– something that needs to happen but not something that needs to be remembered. It’s just a soft blur that prequels his soft bed, his soft kisses, his soft pets. 

 Seo-joon is being gentler than he was at the club. 

 Under the hazy hue of the club lights, the strong hands that tugged at the straps of your dress were confident, cunning, audacious, and assertive. Boldly expectant of the outcome he was so sure he would get. 

 Under his sheets, those same hands are… not exactly timid, but ginger with their eagerness. Delicate, imploring, coy, and suggestive; tactfully encouraging, rather than expecting, the outcome that he hopes for. The way his hips brush against yours is unhurried and intentional. The crass, dirty movements from before that were careless and unrefined are long gone. Now he’s patient. Grinding into you slowly, deliberate.

 However, the change in pace, in the scenery, and in his demeanor– none of it makes the kisses taste any sweeter; none of it makes the touches feel any better; none of it makes anything good enough in the effortless way you long for. 

 It’s counterintuitive but the lack of ease, paired with the desire for it, just makes you try harder. Redouble your efforts.

 You press your lips against his in a kiss that’s harder, dig your nails into his shoulders with a grip that’s harder. When you cant your hips up against his just so– you do it harder. He gets a little harder in his pants, and the thoughts in your head get a little harder to ignore. Faking gets harder and pretending does too.

 Seo-joon is smart enough. He’s probably been around enough, too. With experience under his belt, it doesn’t take him long to sense the shift. The way your energy dulls, the slight tension tugging at your frame underneath him. But still, it doesn’t stop him from testing the waters one more time, giving you a few more unsure, assessing kisses. 

 To no avail.

 With furrowed brows, he pulls away. Seo-joon doesn’t look angry, though. Just confused as he braces himself on his forearms, lifting himself just enough to be able to take you in, most of his body weight still resting atop you.

 He clears his throat. “You don’t uh– you don’t really… seem to be– into this? Anymore? Into me?” 

 Your expression probably mirrors his. Confused, and maybe a little lost as you study him. Because he’s handsome. Almost unbelievably so, with his high cheekbones and sharp eyes; his nose and mouth that appear perfectly placed; his smooth, airbrushed skin.

 You should be into him. Superficially at the very least.

 But you just aren’t because even though he is handsome, flawless even, he’s attractive in a very ordinary, classical way. There doesn’t seem to be anything signature about Seo-joon’s features. 

 When he smiled at the club, it was idyllic and exactly symmetrical. His cheeks filled out, but just enough. His teeth –a dentist’s dream– were pristine, perfectly proportioned, and all of them just the right size. So white that they were almost beaming in the dim lights. 

 And even now, when he attempts an uneasy one to shake awkwardness it’s… fine. His plush lips are fine and his straight nose is fine and his even brows are fine and everything about Seo-joon is perfectly fine. 

 But, to you, he’s not really anything special. 

 Surface level, Seo-joon’s perfectly fine. But so are so many other perfectly fine, classically beautiful, ordinary men. There’s nothing that sets him apart. No defining characteristics, nothing about Seo-joon that makes him him. 

 Yet you can’t stop yourself from thinking that even if there were, it wouldn’t matter. 

Because you already know what makes someone special to you. 

 You’re well aware of the distinctive features that make your heart flutter. Like when someone smiles and their bottom lip tugs down just a hint farther on the left side. Or when they get little rounds under their eyes and scrunch their nose when they laugh. When he has things about himself that are slightly imperfect. Like big front teeth or a barely off-center freckle under his bottom lip. Like the deep scar on his cheek that he got from his brother when they were little. Or the faint one by his eyebrow from the piercing he had in college that had to be taken out before it was yanked out by a tiny hand. 

 The man you’re sharing a bed with could be the most uniquely attractive person on earth and it wouldn’t make a difference. It still wouldn’t make him special– not to you. 

 He’s not what you want.

 You hum when you admit it to yourself. 

 “I’m not.”

 Momentarily, Seo-joon looks taken aback by your seemingly rash rethink, but he takes your drunken bluntness in stride. He gives you a forced smile before he hangs his head in an apologetic bow, shifting from on top of you to lay next to you. “I see, I’m sorry if I assumed or overstepped or made you feel like you had to come home with m–”

 Seo-joon sounds guilty, and it surprises you when a hint of guilt starts to bloom in your chest.

 “You didn’t!” you interrupt, “I thought I was into you… or like I should be into you…”

 His eyebrow quirks and he just looks at you.

 “Ah…” you muse awkwardly, scanning the room. 

 It’s so very bachelor. Dark furniture, a big tv mounted on the wall, a little bar cart off to the side next to the mini fridge that’s kinda big to be called ‘mini’. Nothing personal at all that could tell you anything about him, except the boxers on the floor that tells you he prefers Armani. No hint as to what his goals or his hobbies are. 

 Perhaps it's a good thing you didn’t sleep with Seo-joon. Guys like him have the most brutal post-nut clarity and you’re not sure you could take another grown man hurting your feelings. 

 “I just don’t want you to think like– I don’t know? That you did something wrong? Or that you like coerced me into coming h–” 

 “Wait, I didn’t think that–”

 “–I’m the one that should be sorry!” you assure him, “Because I don’t think I actually went out to try and forget someone; I think I was trying to find them?”

 A couple of stilted seconds pass. 

 “In… me?” he asks, like he’s mentally trying to puzzle the pieces together.

 “I guess? Maybe replace them with you? Or like… use you… as a placeholder?” You wince helplessly at your choice of words, unable to stop them before they spill out. 

 Seo-joon’s confusion is replaced by a quick, bright laugh which is followed by a small smile that seems almost pitying. 

 “You’re still young–”

 You physically cannot stop the way you interrupt him with.

 “Please shut the fuck up.”

 The tired words are spat tartly before you can clench your teeth around them. It’s probably a defense mechanism– you’re not quite sure you can handle another grown man being mean to you, but you’re almost very sure that you can’t handle one lecturing you about how young you are, about how much life you still have left to live, about how your youth makes it difficult to know what you really want, about how–

 “Whoa,” he laughs. He’s on his side, his head propped up on his palm. He eyes you for a moment before he tugs the strap of your bra back up, haphazardly covering you again. “Sore spot?” 

 Pulling his sheets up for good measure, you pout. “He was older.”

 Seo-joon makes a noise of understanding. “Older like… older brother’s friends older? Or older like met him at your dad’s work party older?”

 Heat floods the rounds of your cheeks and you look anywhere but at the man next to you. No photos in frames. Not even a dvd collection that could tell you what type of movies he likes.

 “He’s like– dad old,” you murmur, chancing a glance at Seo-joon only to see him pull a queasy-looking face, and then you’re backtracking to defend yourself. “But only like baby-dad old! Not like– teenager-dad old!”

 He looks unconvinced. “How big’s the gap?”

 “7 years?” you try.

 Seo-joon goes from unconvinced to shocked and then to puzzled. “That’s like… nothing? Probably around our gap too?”

 Your hands fly up and you scoff a little as you exasperate, “That’s what I said!”

 He joins in and you both laugh in his bed until the giggles putter out into lazy silence. You’re pulling at a little tuft of lint when he hums.

 “He told you that you were too young?”

 You open your mouth to reply immediately, but then hesitate. 

 Because your age was part of it. Of course, it was, but was it all of it? Was it the root of it?

 “I mean you are; not too young, just… young. But–” Seo-joon grins smugly, giving you a pointed look when he sees you scowl, “–youth isn’t a bad thing. And you’re smart. I meant it when I said that.”

 Rolling your eyes, you say, “We literally just met–”

 “Yeah, and?” he counters, just for the sake of it because he still doesn’t allow a reply. “We only just met and I could already tell that you were smart. Even though I tried, I knew my… methods wouldn’t work on you. You read me like an open book,” he repeats what he said earlier that night, before speaking slowly like he’s spelling something out for you. “and I’m sure I’m not the only one you’re able to read like that?”

 Your scowl intensifies. “What are you getting at?”

 “This boy you’re trying to ‘forget’? ‘Find’?” The hand that’s not supporting him comes up and he makes some air quotes. His tone is a little softer, like maybe he’s trying to be gentle. Or maybe he’s just tired of talking to you. You can’t be sure.

 “I feel like you’re smart enough to know if the whole thing is worth it or not. How long ago was it?”

 “A month or 2… give or take 17 days…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

 “Okay. But yeah… that’s a good chunk of time…” he says around a quick yawn. Then he hums thoughtfully to himself. “I feel like you could think back and read the situation a bit more clearly now? Like, reassess it to… you know… I don’t know just figure stuff out…”

 “‘You know, I don’t know’, ‘Just figure stuff out’, ” you mimic dryly, “That’s all the advice you have to offer me when you’ve lived lifetimes longer than me?”

 “Listen, you can’t hate all men because of one man–”

 “Yes, I ca–”

 “Okay but, you don’t even hate that one man? That’s the whole issue?” Seo-joon interrupts. He lilts his tone up in an inquisitive manner, like he wants you to confirm. 

 You refuse and choose to reply with petulant silence.

 “Exactly. C’mon, use that big, smart brain in that pretty, little head of yours,” he encourages, “Look back and just figure stuff out. It might be hard, but not as hard as you think. I feel like time away from what we think we need or want, always puts things into perspective. Distance makes the heart fonder, or–” He pauses for dramatic effect. “It makes the heart indifferent.”

 Not rolling your eyes is a feat, but you manage. “Clearly my heart did not become indifferent if I am laid up with you and still going on about it.”

 Seo-joon hums again, carries on some more. But you’re not paying attention because maybe time didn’t put things into perspective, but his words just did.

 Distance and time make the heart indifferent.

 Jeongguk hasn’t been to your store once since you left his house. 

 You frown, connecting imaginary dots as a little wrinkle sprouts between your brows. “He hasn’t come to see me since he cut things off.”

 Seo-joon pauses mid-sentence, mimes your expression. “Did you expect him to?”

 You pause now. 

 “Um… kinda?” you start. Rolling to your side you copy his position so you can look at him. “I mean, I work at the grocery store he would normally shop at,” you explain, before tacking on, “That’s where we met. He lost his baby and I found her… Or– she found me I guess.”

 A small twinge of pain pricks your heart at the mention of Nari. You wonder if she’s talking, or if she’s at least getting closer. If she still doesn’t keep the sock on her left foot, or if she’s grown out of that nerve-wracking yet endearing little habit of hers. 

 What Dasom said about Nari getting attached comes to mind and you hope the little one is doing well. It hurts a little to think about, but you hope for her sake, that she didn’t get too attached or too sad when you stopped coming around. You hope she forgot you quickly.

 “Anyway,” you say, “Guess that means his heart became indifferent.”

 Giving a half-hearted shrug with a single shoulder, aiming to come off unbothered. Trying to act indifferent yourself, and like your heart didn’t just drop. You blink a couple of times in an attempt to clear the glassiness you know is cloaking your eyes and offer a weak smile.

 Regarding you with a slightly concerned color to his features, Seo-joon chooses to not address the passing mention of a misplaced child or the fact that you’re very close to crying while half-naked in his bed. Decidedly, he says, “I’m not sure if I would call avoidance indifference.”

 You sniffle. “Huh?”

 His eyes narrow and he looks like he’s debating something internally. Then he sighs. “Listen, I’m not trying to encourage you to wait for him or go back to him. Or like… give you false hope–”

 “Gee, thanks–”

 “No really,” he stresses, “because that genuinely could be nothing. Men are a bit dense. They do things that may seem calculated, but in actuality, they’re just daft and it didn’t even cross their mind. But in my opinion,” he continues slowly, a bit hesitantly, “Choosing to not go to the grocery store he –I’m assuming– frequented regularly? Right after a breakup?” He sucks a bit of air in through his teeth before he shakes his head. “Yeah, that seems like a very deliberate choice.”

 “Like indifference would be more–” he continues before pausing briefly to choose the right words, “I picture indifference as more of– him still going to your work, despite the breakup, because he just doesn’t give a fuck.”

 Whatever words you were planning to say get caught in your throat and you cough out a short laugh at Seo-joon’s straightforwardness. 

 He grins a little. “Right? Because that’s what it is– a lack of interest, lack of concern. Like he just doesn’t care one way or the other about you being there because you’re not important enough for him to be affected by you.”

 You know he’s speaking in hypotheticals, but it still sours your expression. Makes your lips pull down at the corners.

 “Personally, if I were him and I was truly indifferent, truly unbothered,” he places his hand on his bare chest, “you being there or not being there wouldn’t be significant enough for me to alter my routine.”

 Your eyes flit quickly over Seo-joon’s torso. His gesture causes the sheet to fall slightly, pooling at the subtle curve of his waist. There’s a faint warmth flooding your cheeks as you swiftly and intently bring your gaze back up. 

 You swallow before replying with a simple, “Ah… yes… that makes perfect sense.”

 Playfully, Seo-joon scowls at you. “You sure you don’t want to fuck?”

 “Yup.”

 “It may help–”

 “Nope, don’t think it will actually.”

 He shrugs, an amused grin still lingering. “Suit yourself–”

 “I feel like your post-nut clarity would hurt my feelings and I’m vulnerable right now.”

 It’s silent for 1, 2, 3 seconds before Seo-joon’s loud laughter echoes in his room. Failing to keep a straight face, he rolls on his back and rests his head on his pillow as he lets himself laugh to his heart’s content. Then he inhales deeply and scrubs a hand over his face and swipes a finger beneath his bottom lashes; catching his breath and regaining his composure and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. 

 A few seconds pass before he’s turning his head to look at you with a quiet smile. It feels a bit too tender, too sincere, and too heartfelt, for what was supposed to be a one-night-stand. 

 “See,” he says softly, “told you you were smart.”

 You just look at him, trying to read him like he’s so sure you can. There doesn’t seem to be any ulterior motives, just him being genuinely kind to you because he wants to be. And for some reason that makes your eyes burn.

 “If it doesn’t hurt too badly to revisit everything that went on with the boy,” Seo-joon begins, interrupting the light hush that settled between the two of you, “I really feel like you’ll be able to see things clearer; read the situation better. Figure stuff out. And then, things will start to fall into place for you. Everything will start to make a little more sense. You’ll know if you’re wasting your time being hung up on him, and if it’s worth your happiness. You’ll know if looking for him is worth the effort, and you’ll be sure that ‘finding’ him is actually what you want after all.”

 You’re definitely going to cry.

 “And when I said you were still young, and that your youth wasn’t a bad thing,” he continues, “I meant that if you decide that you do want to look for him, and you do find him again– you still have enough time to try with him again.”

 With a wobbly bottom lip, you feel your features slowly morph into a scowl.

 It’s self-directed because it’s then that you think about what’s happening and how ridiculous it all seems.

 Because why are you on the tail end of being drunk, half-naked in the bed of a grown man who you met just hours ago? Why are you telling him bits and pieces about the person he was supposed to distract you from? The person that caused you the most delicately painful ache that’s been festering for months? Why are letting this man give you advice? Why are you letting him comfort you? And why does it feel like he’s done a better job of it by just listening to you for the last few hours, than friends you’ve had for years? 

 And why do you feel like you’re going to cry about it?

 The self-directed scowl morphs to a Seo-joon-directed glare.

 “He’s not a boy,” you begin in a voice that shakes just a hint, arguing just to be difficult, “he’s a man with the cutest baby and he’s 30 now and–” The urge to cry cuts you off and you feel the first tear leak from the corner of your eye. 

 Seo-joon’s soft, sincere smile turns slightly sad as he tracks the salty drop. “Hey, don’t cry–”

 “Shut-up,” you spout, your tone somewhere in between short and like you’re begging him to be quiet because it was him speaking that brought you to this state in the first place. 

 A short staring contest ensues.

 “Also– I bet you would’ve been the worst fucking one-night stand,” you add on for good measure. 

 Seo-joon’s ability to keep from laughing is impressive. It’s only for a second that an amused smile overtakes his features– a natural reflex he isn’t able to stop. But it’s barely there at all before he’s schooling his features into something that he hopes looks receptive, like he’s taking in what you’re saying, absorbing it like it’s Gospel. 

 But he’s also a curious motherfucker, and he wants to know why you think that. 

 “That is baseless and an unfounded assumption,” he defends himself, because he may be receptive, but he is also a damn good one-night stand. “With that being said, please tell me why you feel that way.”

 “Because I’m crying! And it’s because of you! You and your making of us bare our fucking souls during pillowtalk! Who does that?!” 

 It’s huffy and snippy and you both know you’re being mean just for the sake of it. 

 With lips pressed into a tight, smile-proof line, Seo-joon nods easily; agreeable and understanding.

 He knows you’re fragile and that you’re tired– so he chooses not to voice how he considers what you talked about very surface level. How he thinks you may be more hurt and affected by whatever took place between you and this guy than you even realize yet. How he feels like you still have so much to work through, so much to learn.

 Seo-joon lets you win and reminds himself that, right now, it’s not his job to help you soothe the things that hurt or fix the things that are broken. Reminds himself that you’re smart enough to figure stuff out on your own.  

 There’s a brief lull in the conversation that’s not as awkward or tense as it probably should be.

 You sniffle. Then you hiccup.

 And Seo-joon laughs, loud and brash and fond as he leans towards you. He gives you what feels like a platonic kiss on your forehead. 

 “Can I get your number?”

 ~~~

 It’s an early Thursday morning in late January and Jeongguk is feeling troubled. Plagued, if you will, as he towels off after his morning shower. Plagued with the ever-growing, ever-evolving urge to check up on you. To see how you’re doing.

 Lurking, as Taehyung calls it, doesn’t happen all that often. Jeongguk makes a point to not let himself do it daily. Or even weekly. It was his New Year’s resolution, in fact. That being said, it’s been exactly 12 days since he’s used his friend’s 8-year-old son’s instagram account to see what you’ve been up to.

 Typically, he can talk himself out of the sudden notion. Put it off until he forgets, or just doesn’t feel he needs to so badly anymore. Currently, however, he’s blaming his inability to nix the restlessness in his fingertips on the fact that he hasn’t had Nari around to keep him busy. It’s been a long week.

 Because Jeonggk’s been doing his best to keep himself from opening your page for what feels like days. Resisting the pesky pull even though he doubts you’ve even posted. Out of the times he’s given in over the last few weeks, he thinks you’ve posted maybe once. And it was just a picture of some clouds at that– vaguely heart-shaped, wispy, white puffs against sky-blue. The caption was just two emojis, the wind-face lady next to the white heart. 

 So frankly, even though he’s not exactly keen on how strong and itchy the urge to check on you is– he’s also not exactly sure why he’s fighting it. Not when merely scratching it isn’t going to change anything. 

 After shrugging on his work blazer, Jeongguk admits defeat– his inner demons having won yet again. He resigns to apathetic, easily accepted complacency as he swipes through the pages on his home screen till he gets to the very last one that houses the small, sunset-colored camera app. He figures he should probably just get it over with.  

 As he touches the application open, Jeongguk reasons that he’s just been putting off the inevitable– that he knows an itch can’t be ignored and that it won’t be quelled until it’s scratched or soothed. Tells himself that a quick peek before heading out for work won’t matter.

 As he clicks on the mini magnifying glass at the bottom of the screen, Jeongguk reminds himself of lurking’s insignificance. Thinks back to all the times he’s done it before and how it never made a difference. 

 As he sorts through the random selection of 8-year-old boy searches till he finds your user in the mix, he reassures himself that checking on you won’t do anything but alleviate the nagging in the back of his head and the tingling in his fingertips. 

 As he taps your profile, he convinces himself that lurking will be relieving and nothing more.

 As Jeongguk sees that you have posted, he realizes that this time, lurking does matter and that he is so very stupid for assuming it would bring him relief.

 The picture is blurry, not unlike a handful of others he’s seen on your feed. 

 But the setting captured is new. The pink-tinted lighting isn’t familiar, and neither is the purple and blue hues. The crowd you captured is much more… abundant than what he’s become accustomed to seeing when he pulls up your page. 

 Jeongguk scans the photo for just a bit longer and then swipes to the next one in the post. This one is the final stupid nail in the coffin of Jeongguk’s stupid demise. The couple shot glasses grouped together in blurry cheers are all the confirmation he needs to know exactly where you were. His eyes flick to your caption, and then his features pull into a pensive frown with furrowed brows.

 BUT FOUR DRINKS IM WASTED !! 

 Jeongguk taps open the comments.

 flickthebinna: you’ve had exactly two (2) shots

ocstagram: i am Wasted !! 🤬

jadedjade: can u let her be wasted and focus on getting our drinks @flickthebinna 🤨

 He can’t help but chuckle at your and your friends’ interactions, but as he closes the app he catches himself doing a certain habit of his. The little tick where he tilts his head and juts his jaw out quickly. His telltale sign of irritation.

 Irritated with himself, of course. Partly because of the obvious. The spying (from a child’s social media account nonetheless), the moping that he’s been doing for months, the procrastinating and avoiding that’s been going on for almost just as long. 

 But also because he feels so embarrassingly immature for allowing what he finds out from the spying to affect him so deeply. It seems so very juvenile to get this worked up over an instagram post. 

 He’s irritated at the emotional rush and the way his hands are shaking. At the way his mind is jumping to conclusions and conjuring up all sorts of sour scenarios. He’s irritated with himself for the way unwarranted jealousy burns in his chest. 

 The irritation stews; sits in the passenger seat as he makes the drive to work– right next to the sudden instinct to act on a restless whim. The irritation festers; accompanies the worsening impulsive urge that makes it hard to think and ultimately pushes him to make a wrong turn. 

 The irritation is only sated when he pulls up to a curb and his car comes to a stop. 

 Jeongguk’s irritated with himself for a lot of things. But mostly because it took him so long to get here.

 ~~~

 He’s not sure why he anticipated you answering the door. Karma wouldn’t be so kind, and he wouldn’t be so lucky. Obviously.

 “And why the fuck are you here?” This is how Binna greets him, after taking him in with a groggy, borderline bored stare. 

 With a wince, Jeongguk tries, “Hi Binna–”

 “Don’t you have a job?” she interrupts, the volume of her tone increasing with every word. “Aren’t you so busy? So busy, in fact, that it’s so hard to find the time for–”

 He opens his mouth to try and get a word in but stops abruptly. So does Binna when she feels a soft hand on her shoulder, and hears a grumpy ‘Why are you being so loud?’.

 Right in front of him, you’re still half-asleep. Drowsily using the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt you’re wearing to rub over your face tiredly. Seeing as he decided to show up at a little past 8 in the morning.  

 After a few slow, dreamy blinks, you direct your attention to Jeongguk and he feels like he can’t breathe.

 It’s unconscious, how his lips turn up a smidge when he really sees you for the first time in what feels like forever. When he sees the warmth that lives inside of you color your skin with the softest, natural flush. 

 Jeongguk is still so jealous. 

 He watches you and he studies you. Now that he’s not relying on his memories or the pictures in his camera roll or the ones on your socials– he’s trying to pick out what’s the still same; how you’ve changed. Your hair is a bit longer, a shade or two darker as well. Maybe it’s the big hoodie you’ve got on, but you look smaller than he remembers. In his chest, he feels his heart tug but he can’t dwell on it too much as he refocuses on your features beginning to stir. 

 They shift from dazedly blank to shocked, as if your still-sleepy brain has just now registered him being there, and the smallest gasp sounds from your lips. Then an expression that’s a cross between confused and angry takes the place of prior surprise. The doe-ish look becomes sharp and stern; your narrowed eyes are framed above by scrunched brows and below by shadowy circles. Your mouth goes from slack with your plush lips barely parted, to pouty and pursed in a deep frown.

 Jeongguk knows he should say something. 

 Explain. 

 Say sorry. 

 Ask for forgiveness. 

 But he feels mute, like his heart is stuck in his throat. Like he can’t do anything but stand there and hope you show him a little bit of undeserved grace. That you give him a moment, and then another, to get himself together. Even though he’s had too many moments already to do exactly that.

 In the few seconds that go by you shoo your roommate, and after she’s gone, your face changes once again. Softening just enough to not be so harsh. You stand in your doorway as he flounders and you watch with intent, almost curious, anticipation. And Jeongguk doesn’t want to be too optimistic– but he thinks there might be a hint of relief, an inkling of eager, hopeful expectation hiding in the way you’re looking at him. 

 As if you’ve been waiting for him; wanting him– and now he’s finally here; almost yours. 

 He’s so caught up in that –the minute chance of reconciliation that he only thinks he caught a glimpse of– that he doesn’t get out of his head until the movement of your shoulders slumping, and your chest deflating rips him out of it. 

 Jeongguk would prefer the air your demeanor carried just moments ago. The quiet, masked hopefulness you gave off before you made yourself smaller and breathed that tiny, dejected sigh. God, he would even take the calloused, puzzled hostility you had when you first realized it was him in standing in your doorway. Anything over how you look currently.

 Definitely disappointed, maybe a little bit embarrassed, and just so sad. 

 It’s what he expected, at least to some extent. He’s foolish, but he can only fool himself so much. There’s a limit on how many fantasies of effortless forgiveness he can have before he has to face reality. 

 Jeongguk knew you would be sad, and he knew you would be disappointed. He was ready to take responsibility for the role he played because he was so sure that it would be his fault.

 But what makes how you’re looking at him right now so awful, so unbearable– is that you’re looking at him like it has nothing to do with him. 

 You don’t look disappointed in him. You don’t look sad because of him. 

 It looks internal, so personal. 

 Like you’re sad because you naively allowed yourself to hope– let it glimmer, shining so obvious in your eyes. Only for the brightness to dim, snuffed out by the foolishness that so often goes hand in hand with naivety. 

 Like you’re sad because as soon as you saw him, you had expectations– preconceived notions about how it would go when he came back, how he would act. Only to learn that with enough preconceived notions, you can turn expectations into daydreams.

 Maybe that’s why you look a little embarrassed, too. Because you so quickly let yourself hope, like a child who hasn’t learned from their mistakes. Because you immediately conjured up expectation-disguised daydreams of Jeongguk. Still, after all this time. After everything he’s done, you still expected good from him. 

 You look like you’re disappointed in yourself, not him, because you should have known better.

 He doesn’t find his voice until you’re shaking your head like he’s let you down. Until you’re turning away from him and edging the door closed.

 “I’m sorry!”

 Jeongguk blurts the words out, and he didn’t say much but his chest is heaving and he’s got this frantic way about him and a panicky feeling flooding his veins. When you look up, surprise flashes across your face, but it’s gone in an instant and is replaced by incredulous anger. Like you can’t believe him. 

 Despite your trying to stand your ground and hold his gaze, a gleam still shines in your eyes.

 “I am,” he assures breathlessly, his eyes darting across your face, “I’m so sorry, ___. And–”

 When Jeongguk tells you he misses you, he notices how you almost flinch. How your eyes snap shut tightly –like you can feel his words, but still aren’t sure if they’re real or if they’re true; like you’re scared of finding out– and the heavy tears pooling on your lashline finally spill over. 

 As the salty droplets drip down the apples of your cheeks, Jeongguk feels an ache that hurts so badly that it’s visceral. Like if he could crack open his chest, he could get a hand on the it and just rip the pain out and make it go away. If only that was the case. 

 “I–” you start, but your voice gives out. You clear your throat with a small cough, and talk to the ground because it’s easier to talk to than him. “Maybe we’re better like this, Gguk.”

 Jeongguk’s heart drops, and it’s a struggle to get out even just a whispered a plea of your name.

 When you speak up this time, you force your eyes to meet his. Your brows are upturned and your bottom lip quivers for just a second before you take a deep, self-soothing, breath and school your features into a facade of indifference and resolve. 

 “I hope Nari’s been okay. And you. I hope you’ve been okay, too.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow. He’s confused but gives you an unsteady nod. “She– she’s good, yeah.”

 You scan his face, trying to keep your own expression neutral. But how he only mentions Nari and not himself doesn’t evade you. A faint heartache murmurs in your chest, but you mimic his nod. “That’s good. I’m glad–”

 “What about you? Have you been okay?”

 Jeongguk’s words come out overhasty and too eager. But after such a long time of replaying old dialogues in his head– talking to you just feels so nice. He doesn’t want to stop, even if the conversation feels stilted and trivial. He’s still going to hang on to every little marginal thing you say, and he’s still going to do his best to keep the empty words flowing between you.

 He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath while he awaits your answer. Not until he hears you say, “Yeah, I’m happy, I think” and the air inside his lungs vacates. Making room for a thick cloud of melancholy that isn’t surprising, but still makes it hard to breathe all the same. 

 Guilt mingles with the suffocating hurt because you being happy shouldn’t make him sad.  

 But then you smile and Jeongguk responds with a frown and a skeptical shake of his head. 

 Because the smile– it’s so fake, so unconvincingly artificial and staged that when it turns your eyes to half moons and causes their corners to crinkle– it also forces a fresh wave of tears to tumble down your cry-flushed cheeks. 

 He doesn’t believe you, but that’s no surprise. You’ve never been a good liar.

 A dim, defeated laugh putters from your lips. Trying to portray nonchalance, you give him a weak, half-hearted shrug, like you know you’ve been caught but it can’t be helped.

 He knows it hurts you to dismiss him. He can hear it in your shaky, wispy tone when you say, “Take care, Gguk.”

 Take care Gguk.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a ‘goodbye’. A goodbye that he’s having trouble processing. 

  It feels like a lifetime, but really it’s only a few seconds that Jeongguk stands there trying to make sense of your words. It’s only a few more before the door closes on him. 

 Jeongguk couldn’t process the goodbye, but the telltale click of the door locking somehow makes perfect sense.

 ~~~

 Like you are the starlet of your very own coming of age, lifetime, hallmark romance drama– you don’t let yourself cry until your back is pressed against the closed door. Then you cover your mouth to keep quiet as you slide down the wood.

 The moment is short-lived. 

 “Where’s Jeongguk?”

 The voice seemingly comes from nowhere, and you jump slightly before swearing and directing your puffy, bloodshot eyes at your roommates. They both have their head peeking out from behind the kitchen wall. Nosy.

 “What do you mean ‘where’s Jeongguk?’” you groan, knocking your head back against the wood.

 Binna and Jade exchange a look. 

 “Are you guys like… not gonna… talk?”

 You slow blink at them a single time.

 An awkward quiet permeates the pumpkin-spice-scented air of your shared home. It’s not even Fall anymore. 

 “Well,” Binna starts, and then cuts herself off like she spoke before she knew what she wanted to say. She elbows your other housemate. “Jade?”

 Jade gives you an instinctive, reactionary smile that’s far too big. “I mean… communication is key… right? And that’s mainly what was lacking before? Talking now could give you the oppurtunity to say all the things you’ve been wanting to. And maybe he can explain his side–”

 Binna raises a hand to cut her off, “Too much credit, he is still a man.”

 “Fair but–”

 The two bicker for a bit before looking at you again.

 “Wait, did you not want to work things out?” 

 You roll your eyes. “Of course I wanted to.”

 “Of course you did,” Jade agrees easily. 

 “Of course you did,” Binna mimics before groaning and asking, “So why the hell is he not here, and why the hell are you not talking and ‘working things out’?” 

 Crossing your arms, your posture becomes defensive. “Wouldn’t that be too easy? Like he shows up at my door after all these months of virtual silence and I just let him in? Aren’t I supposed to make him grovel and cry and beg?” 

 “You have to let the man speak for him to be able to grovel and cry and beg, I’m afraid…” Binna informs.

 The narrowing of your eyes is the simple response she gets. Only because Jade speaks up before you can.

 “You know…” Jades starts, then ponders momentarily. “If it was you that showed up at his house out of the blue at 8 in the morning on a weekday? Then yeah,” she nods to herself, “I would say that it was too easy for him. But he came back to you. And just talking to him?” she shakes her head, “That’s not forgiving him. He still has a lot of work to do– and you should make him prove himself. Prove that he’s grown and changed,” Jade says before she gives you a gentle smile. “But him knocking on the door was also him taking the first step.”

 He came back to you.

 It’s what you wanted. But now that it’s happening, you have no clue what to do next. 

 You don’t know what to say. Are you supposed to lie and tell him you’re thankful that he pushed you away; that it helped you realize that he was right? That you are too young? That you’re happier without him, better off being free like he wanted you to be? 

 Or do you tell him the truth? Do you tell him about how hard it was without him? About how painful it was to go from having so much of him, all of the time– to not having none of him at all, ever? Do you come clean about how hollow and lost being alone made you feel? Do you tell him about how much it hurt every time you thought about how all it took was a few words from his ex– and you were gone; cut out so easily and carelessly? Do you admit that it still hurts to remember?

 You don’t know what to do. Do you resist the fight you’re expected to make him put up? Or do you not fight it much at all and welcome him with a second chance and a fresh start? Do you pretend like you didn’t miss him? Like you didn’t fantasize about him coming back? That you didn’t look for pieces of him everywhere you went; in everybody you met? 

 You don’t know how to feel. Happy because he came to you? Sad that it took so long? Scared because him coming back is just another chance for him to leave again?

 You were already crying, but the trickle of tears grows steadier. The sleeve of your sweatshirt is swiped angrily at your eyes, the light grey material dampened a few shades darker. 

 “Bro,” you cry, “I can’t even look at him without crying, I’m not gonna be able to talk to him. It hurts too bad.”

 Jade looks down at you, gives you a pity pout. “If it’s any consolation, I think he will cry too.”

 Binna agrees with a sympathetic nod of her head. “He’s probably hurting just like you, but it’s what he deserves.

 “___,” Jades speaks up again, “It doesn’t have to be so– painstaking. Like you don’t have to drive yourself mad thinking about what you should do. Just do what you want to do. If you want to talk to him, then talk to him.” She shrugs like it’s really that simple.

 And maybe it is. 

 ~~~

 It definitely isn’t.

 Because if it was, you would not have opened with, quote, ‘I let you put your finger in my ass’, unquote. 

 And Jeongguk wouldn’t have replied with a slow, painfully dumb sounding: ‘I– yes… I remember…?’

 You don’t even really know how it happened. 

 One second you’re hit with a burst of inspired adrenaline and then the next you’re knocking the wind out of both you and Jeongguk by barreling into his chest. The collision must have knocked the sense out of you, too. It’s the only explanation for your behavior. 

 All the same, the blame can’t be entirely yours– Jeongguk has to take some of it. He was standing directly outside of your door, after all. He claims he was working up the courage to knock again but that’s beside the point.

 You keep your thoughts to yourself, as you pretend not to catch the way that he rolls his lips between his teeth to keep a smile off his face when you lead him into your room and slyly try to kick a few things under your bed. A stuffed animal, a bra. A few too many socks.

 It’s a stupid attempt to make your space look a little more tidy and less like you’ve been rotting in it for the last few months. The room’s not too messy by any means; definitely not unkempt enough for you to feel embarrassed or like you need to straighten it up to impress him. But you hope he chalks it up to your nerves getting the best of you.

 He’s nervous, too. If how awkward he’s being is anything to go by. 

 Just standing at the foot of your bed with his hands in his pockets while you situate yourself in front of your headboard. He doesn’t take a seat until you pat the mattress a little, letting him know it’s okay and that you want him to. 

 There’s a quiet hush that fills the space. It’s slightly tense, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable; stilted but somehow familiar. 

 You’re sitting with one leg dangling and a pillow in your lap. It’s hugged to your chest. Perhaps a make-shift shield to put something between you and Jeongguk. Fiddling with a loose pillowcase string helps you avoid eye contact by making you look occupied.

 Jeongguk’s sat before you, stiff and looking down at the floor between his feet. Similarly evading your gaze just like you’re doing with his. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, rubbing his palms restlessly over the material of his slacks. 

 Thinking back, Jeongguk feels like he did so much of the talking that night in his living room. Probably too much, if he’s being honest. He feels he never really gave you the time to say your side or a proper chance to explain yourself. 

 So this time, he wants to let you do most of the talking. Let you be the one to initiate, at the very least. He wants to give you all the time you need to start the discussion how and when you want, with what you want and feel has precedence.

 Jeongguk stays patient right up until you say in a huff, “Well say something, I’m obviously not good at this.”

 His lips twitch at your stubborn, slightly irritated tone. 

 “You’re the one that showed up at my house when I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be at work, so,” you wave your hand at him, indicating you want him to get on with it. “Must have something important to say.”  

 The small laugh he allows himself is barely a chuckle, but it tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. Blames it on instinct and the simple fact that he just misses you. 

 “It is important,” he confirms, giving into your bait and starting the conversation for you. He considers staying quiet, getting another little reaction out of you, but he reminds himself that this isn’t the time for that. If he plays his cards right, maybe then he’ll be able to joke with you. But as of now, that’s not his place anymore.

 Shifting to face you a little more, so that when he says, “I wanted to apologize to you, ___,” you have his full attention.

 When he speaks, you don’t look at him. Instead, you only give him the faintest nod with your eyes cast down. Still fixed on the pillow in your lap. But Jeongguk notices how your lashes flutter quickly before you press your eyelids together tightly; just like you did earlier when he said that he missed you. 

 Your shoulders lift when you take a deep inhale, and your face is more or less neutral when your eyes meet his. 

 “It’s been months,” you tell him. 

 As if he doesn’t know. As if he hasn’t been driving himself mad day in and day out trying to muster up the courage to do precisely this; as if time doing what time does hasn’t been the bane of his existence. Because with each passing day, he knew he was that much closer to going from ‘it’s been so long’ to ‘it’s been too long’. He’s all too aware of just how long it’s been. 

 Regardless, he doesn’t want to give you excuses; choosing to be easily agreeable. He offers a small tilt of his head as acknowledgment. 

 “Why now?” you question him.

 Jeongguk tries to keep the sadness off of his face when he hears how you sound. 

 The tone of your voice is unsure; hurt. But the pain is elusive. Only heard when your subtle heartache peeks through the veil of composure you’re trying to hide behind.

 While he racks his mind for a worthy explanation, his eyes scan yours. Overflowing with so many different emotions and so expressive just like he remembers. 

 “I wish–” he begins, “I wish that I could tell you that I’ve been working toward this for ages and that I thought through all the steps and knew exactly what I wanted to say to you…” He gives a small self-deprecating chuckle, “But I can’t tell you that. After earlier, it’s clear that I didn’t have any idea or plan,” he offers you his bared palms. “I wish I had a good reason for ‘why now’, but I don’t.”

 Your brows furrow with affronted confusion. Jeongguk speaks up before you can.

 “That’s not to say that I haven’t been thinking about this since you left–”

 “I didn’t leave, you got rid of me–”

 The correction is hissed before you snap your mouth shut like you didn’t mean to say it. But you don’t take the words back and Jeongguk can’t control his expression this time. His face falls and he sighs as he looks down at the pattern on his pants. 

 “I’ve been thinking about this since I told you to leave,” he tries again, slowly. When you don’t comment again after a small pause, he continues, “but I wasn’t actively figuring out how to do it. I’ve come to learn that plans are essentially useless, so planning out what to say to you seemed pointless. In hindsight, it just made me look stupid,” he muses.

 “Honestly, having you on a constant loop in my mind wasn’t intentional; I didn’t want that,” Jeongguk admits. But he doesn’t even chance a glance, not keen to see your worsening scowl. “Remembering you just made me so miserable? Like, thinking about you all the time made me miss you all the time. And missing you made me so fucking sad– like the kind of sad you can feel? Like it hurt to think about you. But you never left my head, so the hurt never went away…”

 Jeongguk’s words slowly come to halt, his cheeks reddening to a bright cherry when he realizes that he’s rambling. As he’s mentally trying to dull his blush to something more faint and less conspicuous, he notes that your expression changed. You still look a bit angry, but now, there’s a pastel hue. A soft, muted sadness toning down the harshness. 

 He stumbles a little when he says, “I– Truthfully– I guess the–” Then he takes a quick, staccato breath mid-sentence to get himself together. “I guess the most truthful explanation for why I took so long is… avoidance? And guilt? Fear?” 

 When he frustratedly combs a hand through his hair, he pretends not to notice how it’s shaking. And he’s grateful that you don’t mention it when you track his movement. 

 The conversation gets stuck in a momentary limbo while Jeongguk thinks about what he said. It’s the truth. He was scared before– it’s what got him in this mess and it’s what kept him away for weeks too long. But he’s still scared. Despite getting the most intimidating part over with –actually coming to you after finally working up the nerve to– the fear of fucking up still hasn’t waned. 

 He’s still just as scared as he was. 

 Scared of saying the wrong thing. Of not being able to put what he feels into the right words. Of not being able to convey how truly fucking sorry he is for hurting you, how much he regrets it. He’s scared of hurting you again. Scared of you not forgiving him for the first time he did. 

 He is still just as scared of lying in the bed that he made.

 Jeongguk digs his fingertips into his thighs and his nails are dull, but he does it hard enough for a minute pang of discomfort to still be felt. He makes himself puff out a lame chuckle. It sounds strained and resembles a scoff more than anything, but he’s trying to lighten the mood; make the air in the room lighter and easier to breathe. 

 “I’m sorry,” he says on the tail end of the scoffing chuckle, shaking his head lightly. His voice has a light waver, shaky due to his nerves. “I– I’m just–”

 When he feels your small hand settle over the one he has working into his leg, his head whips up quickly and a reactive reflex almost has him pulling his hand away.

 But he stops himself before, and he’s so happy he does. Because when the initial shock wears off, your touch feels good. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy he catches himself because your touch feels nice and when he looks up from it, he gets to see you. 

 It’s like you stopped hiding and came out from behind that veil. Or maybe it’s an accident and you just forgot to keep it up. Either way, it doesn’t matter because he gets to see you watching him so artlessly, so openly honest. With a look that feels like a reminder. 

 A reminder that your heart has always been so soft, so sweet– that it still is. Softer than the hand you have settled gently over his and sweeter than its touch when you coax his own into being gentle, too, but with himself. A reminder that you’ve always been soft, sweet– that you still are. You look at him –softly; sweetly– like you’re reminding him that you’re still you. 

 It makes his eyes water and he has to look away. The thin, pinstripes on his slacks blur together, blending into thick lines as unshed tears muddle his vision.

 “It’s okay, you can–” he hears you tell him, starting hushedly. You sound hesitant, like you’re not sure if you want to finish. “I… want to know what you’re trying to say. So– you can take your time... I’ll wait for you.” 

 And if someone asked Jeongguk to describe the ache that fills his chest at your words– he would tell them that it hurts like he imagines the kindest, most tender, undeserved compassion would.

 “It took me so long because I was a coward, ___,” he says quietly. But the word is spat from his mouth like something foul. “I was so scared of feeling the hurt and facing the guilt that came when I thought about you; what I did to you–” Shame runs through his veins and he shakes his head at how spineless he was– unable to face the consequences of his own actions. It’s humiliating to remember. 

 He’s still talking down to his lap when he admits, “I– just avoided it altogether. I was so busy trying to keep it away that I didn’t give much thought to owning up to everything. I didn’t even know where to begin or how to go about fixing things with you.” 

 Jeongguk’s not crying yet. With that being said, his vision is still bleary and his eyes are red-rimmed from fighting the stubborn tears. He turns the hand he still has underneath yours palm-up. Covers yours with his other on top. Your tiny hand sandwiched between his big ones. He tilts his head back, blinks the wet in his eyes away.

 “I wanted to so badly, though,” he tells you, bringing himself to look at you, “To fix things with you. To just try with you. It took me way too long to understand something that should have been common sense: That things don’t always happen the way you plan for them to; That pieces don’t just fall into place just because you want them to. If I want something… It takes effort to make it happen. I have to work for it and try my best to put the pieces where they belong.”

 Jeongguk gives you a small smile and your hand a little squeeze. “I needed someone’s help to figure some things out,” he rolls his eyes playfully, almost fondly exasperated by the memory. “Like how to start altering the way I think and how to stop with all the wallowing and self-commiseration. How to stomach self-reflection. But when it finally clicked and I really got it? Fixing things with you was the only thing I wanted to do.” 

 There’s a tiny flicker of something coming back. A sanguine glimmer replaces the chagrin in Jeongguk’s eyes and you try to mirror it, reflect it back to him. Because the things he’s saying all sound so good. Perfect and promising and like everything you could have hoped for. 

 But when he says the thing about needing someone’s help? Anything he said before gets repressed. Unclear and hard to recall, as if his words are stuck inside a wayward memory. Anything he says after is indistinct. Muffled and hard to hear, as if there’s water stuck inside your ears. Similar to the rot that’s stuck inside your heart; ugly and hard to get rid of. 

 Such a gross, sickly feeling suddenly comes over you. 

 It takes so much effort to swallow it down. The green-washed insecurity that’s wanting to crawl up your throat and out your mouth. Masquerading as untrusting accusations that will make you seem paranoid. Heartsick questions that will leave you too vulnerable. 

 Who was it? Was it her? Was Dasom the one who helped you?

 Of course, she’s going to be a sore spot and you know that. But the thoughts fluster you and catch you a little off guard because it’s not like you to think like that. 

 It’s never been like you to be paranoid. To feel so self-conscious and easily threatened. You’ve never been the type to chastise. To interrogate, or pry. To accuse, or assume. 

 The doubt came from out of nowhere– crept its way into your head during a brief lapse of emotional awareness and into your heart when it erringly opened and was left unguarded. At first, quieting the intrusive thoughts and dispelling the negative feelings was a challenge. But in the end, you managed and it was fleeting and passed quickly.  

 Shaking the residual embarrassment that follows the bad thoughts and emotions, is much more difficult. 

 Unlike the momentary doubt, the sudden flash of insecurity that it comes with is so intense that it lingers, so strong that it fogs your head. It distractingly hangs out in the back of your mind making it hard to focus.

 It takes a few moments longer before you’re able to suppress it and push it down, down, down. Down far enough that you’ll be able to forget about it. At least for a short while, you’ll be able to convince yourself that the feelings won’t come back because it’s just not like you. 

 Wanting to omit it altogether, you gather your composure and fully give Jeongguk your attention again. You give him a small but genuine smile and wiggle your fingers that are still between his hands. 

 He smiles back softly, while you sit quietly. You’re working to piece together the things he said while you were lost in your head, trying to come up with a decent response. 

 “I was scared too,” you reveal quietly, “The whole time I was scared.” 

 “Will you tell me what you were scared of?”

 “There were so many things, Gguk.” You don’t tell him that there still are. Jeongguk nods attentively. You gingerly untangle your hand from his, catching his eyes before looking around your room. 

 “The finger thing was a really bad example,” you begin trying to explain. You shake your head with a sheepish smile, embarrassed and horrified at your past self. “and it wasn’t the actual act. It was more of what it meant that was scary for me? Like the fact that I let you do something that I always swore I would never let anyone do? Ever.”

 Laughing lightly, you think back on all of the times that your friends would make jokes. How they always told you that there would be a time that you would be horny enough to let it happen. The times when they had more class and said it was fine if you never wanted to and never did, but that they still thought you would end up giving in one day. For the right person, you would. 

 But you always remained adamant– so sure that nobody would ever make the act appealing enough, that nobody would ever make you feel comfortable enough with them for you to allow them to touch you like that or see you like that. 

 “But then I met you.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow slightly, like he doesn’t quite understand. But he just stays quiet and nods again, waiting for you to continue. And honestly, you can’t blame him. Anal should never be such a serious topic or something that feels like such a pivotal point in a relationship. You certainly wish that it wasn’t. 

 But alas.

 “All it took was a couple of months… Just a few soft touches and some dreamy words and I was putty in your hands.” Your hands that are folded lightly in your lap open up to show your palms before they squeeze shut into tight fists. “I feel like I would’ve done anything for you; anything you asked me to.”

 His features fall, and the expression he wears is laced with so much guilt. “Wait– Did I… make you feel like you had to do certain things?”

 You can’t help but smile at his concern as you shake your head sadly. “No, no… nothing like that– I always wanted to.”

 Jeongguk frowns, not certain of how truthful you’re being.

 Promising him that you’re not lying, you elaborate. “That’s part of why it was scary for me, I think. There was just something about you that made me so…I don’t know, willing? So yours?”

 The admission makes pesky pinpricks of tears sting the backs of your eyes. “And I was. I was so yours the whole time even though you weren’t mine–”

 “I was–” Jeongguk chimes softly. Interrupting, if only for the sake of trying to convince you.

 “Not really,” you argue. The tone you use comes across as somewhat detached. Like you’re just stating a fact. 

 Using the silence that nestles between you as an opportunity to think, you consider what you’re wanting to tell him. How vulnerable you’re willing to get. Your mouth opens before you feel like you’ve even made your decision.

 “I knew you liked me,” you acknowledge because you don’t want to be unfair, “but part of me always wondered: ‘how much does he?’ and ‘for how long will he?’. I was already scared that I was just a phase for you. Before Dasom ever said it.”

 Jeongguk tenses just a touch at the mention of his ex and you pretend not to notice, continuing with, “So when she said that I was just something you needed to get out of your system and you didn’t defend me? God, Jeongguk,” you get out, eyes squeezing shut. Wincing at the ghost of pain the memory brings back. “That hurt so much.”

 Despite your wanting to look him in the eye and come off strong while you relay how his actions made you feel; it’s impossible. Despite wanting to seem as though you’ve healed and grown and matured and like it just doesn’t hurt so bad anymore; you can’t face him.

 “And then everything happened so quickly?” you continue before he can get a word in, your words coming out rushed and frantic, “It felt like you didn’t even think about it, and like it was just so easy for you to let me go? Like I really was nothing just like she said–”

 He can’t stop himself from reaching out and quieting you when he hears the way your voice breaks. Jeongguk doesn’t want you to cry, not sure he could handle it if you did. Your hands are in your lap still, clenched together, so he rests a palm on your knee. 

 “___,” he says gently, “I need you to believe me when I tell you that none of that is true.”

 You keep talking like you don’t hear him.

 “It almost seemed like you were already over it, bored of me. And her saying those things was a convenient way to– ” you shake your head before sighing. “I was always scared that you’d end up getting tired of me, that you would stop wanting me and just get rid of me. And after what she said, it felt like you finally did. Like you used her words as an excuse so you could finally leave me.”

 “That’s not true, baby,” he reiterates, tongue slipping as he tries to console you again

 At the pet name you look up. Your red-rimmed eyes locking with his. 

 He stutters a bit as he backtracks, barely able to get out a stiff apology. 

 And your lips pull down in a deep frown, and your brows turn up confusedly. “You said you wanted to… fix things with me?”

 Jeongguk’s lips part, dim surprise taking over his face before he breathes a small yes.

 “I want that too,” you breathe back, “but I’m still so afraid Jeongguk.”

 “I know, I know you are– I am too–”

 “Not like me,” you counter, “You may be scared, but you’re not scared like me. You can’t be scared like me.” 

 Your words come out sharper than intended, too emotional for the facade you’re trying to portray. But you don’t dwell on the tone of your voice. Nor do you dwell on the brief ire that flickers in Jeongguk’s eyes. 

 “I’m scared that I’ll never catch up to you. You won’t ever know what that feels like because you’ll never be the one that’s worried about falling behind– you’re the one that’s ahead of the curve. I’m scared that I’m not good enough for you and Nari– that I can’t be. You have no reason to be scared of that.” 

 The fight to keep your voice level and in control dwindles. Every ounce of your pain can be heard as you let out the burdensome ache in your heart, little by little. 

 Each word is heavier than the last when you ask Jeongguk, “Why would you be afraid of not being good enough for someone who never made you question it?” 

 Jeongguk flinches. Visibly recoils as if your words are abrasive enough to hurt. 

 Which is what you wanted. You wanted to hurt him, but it doesn’t make you feel better like you anticipated. If anything his reaction makes your pain ricochet right back at you. Hurting him, hurting you.

 And then you consider that perhaps, you didn’t truly want him to hurt– that you might have just wanted him to be aware. To know what you’re scared of; how it hurts to be scared.  

 “Maybe you are scared, too,” you amend, “Maybe there are even a few things that we’re both afraid of… but being scared isn’t something we have in common.”

 The hurt from before is replaced by barely-hidden defensiveness. Jeongguk does try to hide it as he listens to you, though. You give him credit for that.

 “Being scared that you’ll realize that I actually am just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants, exactly like you thought, is a very specific fear,” you try to explain. “I’m scared that one day you’ll look at me but you won’t see me anymore– you’ll see a mistake that could have been avoided if you never came back. That I’ll cross your mind. But instead of thinking fondly… you’ll end up thinking about how you wish you had just stuck by your decision when you said you wouldn’t let me stay.”

 A defensive urge to argue the validity of his feelings comes naturally– he’s only human. His emotional side finds it unfair of you to determine, decide, and define his fears but the irony of the situation dawns on his logical side just as quickly. 

 The fact that you’re speaking to him in a manner that mirrors how he spoke to you all those months ago, doesn’t escape him. Instead, the similarities make him stop and think. Something he regrets not doing that night in his living room. 

 He concludes that arguing with you would be pointless. He knows you’re right and it doesn’t take him long to realize. 

 Yeah, Jeongguk’s scared. But just like you said– he’s not scared like you. Not scared of what you’re scared of. Jeongguk’s fears are more or less internal and he’s had a few of them for most of his adult life, since he became a father. Some of the fears may concern you in some way or another, but none of them manifested because of you or something you did or things you said. 

 He’s scared, but he’ll never be scared like you. Not when the things you’re afraid of only exist because of him. 

 The thought of it never going away, of you never being the same or free of the ache he caused, even after the insecurities and fears are dug up by the root– it makes Jeongguk feel like he’s going to be sick. 

 “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you end up saying after a few moments of watching Jeongguk struggle to get words out. “And I know you regret it. You showing up here proves that.”

 The small, sad smile you give him is too kind for what he did.

 “I thought I was doing the right thing,” Jeongguk says, “For you, for Nari. I never thought– I’m so sorry, ___.”

 “I know,” you reassure, gently. 

 And you truly do know how sorry Jeongguk is. He obviously doesn’t have the words to express his remorse, but sincerity is written all over his face. His big doe-eyes dark and glassy and so genuine. Full of regret; the longing to go back and undo what can’t be undone. Somehow so full of warmth, just like you remember. 

 “I don’t want to fight anymore,” you say. 

 It doesn’t sound like you’re at your wit’s end or like you feel as if the conversation has reached it’s breaking point. Just sounds like what it means. Like you don’t want to fight. Not with him. Not with yourself. Not with what you’ve been wishing for since you lost it. 

 Jeongguk agrees, nodding. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it a fight. I want you to be able to talk to me about–” He’s flighty, moving his hands all about, like he’s nervous and has too many things he wants to say. “about everything, really. So, I promise, I’ll just listen–”

 You watch him for a few more seconds, letting the corners of your lips turn up just so. Then you reach for his hands, ceasing their movement with your own. 

 “Shush,” you laugh faintly, “There’s still a lot we have to talk about. So much– we can’t get through it all with one conversation. It’s gonna take a lot of them and a long time, probably. But I think we’ve covered the most important stuff, right?”

 You’re aware it’s going to take time to get through the maze of problems you and Jeongguk have created between each other.

 But you can’t help but think about all time that you wasted while making them. 

 And you don’t want to waste even more time by waiting till everything is figured out before you start letting yourself get past it. You don’t want to hinder the process of moving forward by getting lost trying to navigate the maze. Not when you’ve finally made your way back to each other. 

 So while the labyrinth hasn’t been solved, and all your issues haven’t been fixed, at least now, you don’t have to do it alone. You can resolve everything and find a way out together. 

 It’s possible that you’re too willing to push things aside, that you’re too keen to move past it all. That you’re not standing your ground, being too easy and too soft, too quick. That you’re not giving yourself enough time to consider what you haven’t touched on yet. To process what you have. 

 But as you told Jeongguk, you feel like what needed to be addressed has been. With time, everything else will be talked about. Which is enough for you and your eager heart. You don’t want to wait anymore, not when you’ve been waiting so long already.

 Jeongguk’s wearing a flush when you grin at him and he looks down at the pair of your hands, still slightly entangled on your duvet. His thumb rubs softly over your knuckles while he says, “If you’re sure?”

 Vaguely aware of Jeongguk absently toying with your fingers while he awaits your reply, you think it over just for the sake of it and end up remembering something.

 You hum musingly, making sure he can hear the smile you decorate it with. An attempt to diffuse the heavy air in your room till it’s something more buoyant; lighthearted and easier to breathe. You curl your manicured finger around one of his, trapping it briefly before untangling both your hands.

 “Actually,” you start. 

 So very attentive, Jeongguk whips his head up. 

 “Now that I think about it, you told me why it took you so long,” you reflect, “But you didn’t tell me why now.”

 Jeongguk opens his mouth to reply before he’s furrowing his brows, puzzled, pursing his lips into a line. It’s quiet while he thinks.

 A weak, hopeless simper sounds, and he shakes his head while running a hand through his hair. “Again, I wish I had a better answer for you.”

 You roll your eyes and change positions, now sitting criss-cross in front of him. “Okay, well, you didn’t just randomly show up! There had to have been something that made you come now; today.”

 Light, but genuine laughter rings in your room– it starts off sounding like it’s accidental, cut-off chuckles only heard because the person laughing can’t hold it in, and it ends as cute giggles that lilt throughout the space softly. 

 And it’s all Jeongguk’s fault. 

 “No,” he says, around a breathy giggle, “I really did. I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I ended up caving and looking at your–” 

 It’s now your fault that sounds of amusement continue to filter in the air– Jeongguk’s eyes getting wide and his face turning pink is too funny and you can’t not laugh at him.

 He stutters when he tries to backtrack, “Y… Your– pictures? On my phone? In my camera roll?” 

 You narrow your eyes suspiciously, impishly. “Which of my pictures, hmm?”

 The flush coloring his cheeks runs down to his chest, the silver LV pendant of his necklace would probably be warm if you reached out and touched it. He would probably be warm too if you reached out and touched him.

 “No! Oh my god, not those! I did not look at those, okay? Anyway,” he rushes out, “I really was on my way to work! But add a couple of turns and a few steps–” he shrugs, “I guess now because I physically couldn’t keep myself from you any longer? Because then I was at your door and now I’m here. With you.”

 The giggles have finally ceased, and now it’s just your paired breathing that acts as low background noise while you both take the other in.

 “Now you’re here with me,” you repeat softly, with an even softer smile.

 Jeongguk’s eyes drop to your lips for the briefest of moments. He darts his tongue out to wet his own.

 “___. You were right,” he tells you, “It didn’t have to be all or nothing like I thought it did.”

 You nod once.

 “I’m sorry for not listening to you. For deciding for you and not letting you make your own choices. And for not even letting you explain your side that night. For how bad I hurt you and for all the things the hurt caused.”

 “Okay,” you breathe.

 “I should have listened to you.”

 Again, you nod.

 “I should have chosen you.”

 It’s almost instantaneous when tears well in your eyes.

 “But I was so scared of the way I wanted you and how badly I wanted it,” Jeongguk confesses, “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you before. For anybody.”

 Mild confusion makes a home in your eyes.

 He expects it before he sees it stir your features, so he’s not surprised when it appears. He finds himself smiling. Maybe because he’s wanted to tell you that since he realized it. Or maybe he wants to finally do what he should have done the night of the fight, and even before then. 

 Jeongguk smiles at your uncertainty because this time, he gets to make it go away. He gets to reassure you of your place in his life, of how important you are to him. Of how you’re worth trying for. He’s quick to shush you when your lips part to speak. 

 “No one,” he insists, “You’re so different, ___. And I feel so differently for you. I feel different when I’m with you. That’s part of why I was afraid. I was scared to want you because I didn’t know how to have you.”

 Tears are making his eyes gleam, glassy in the morning light that streams through your blinds. Yours are a mirror and you don’t know how you’ve kept the drops from spilling over.

 “I’m still fucking scared,” he admits, “Like you said, we’re both still scared. Because we have no god damn clue how this will turn out. If we’ll even be able to fix it and get back to the way we were. Who might be collateral damage if we can’t. If one of us will end up changing our mind. Or if we’ll end up even better; if we –me and you, together– will be the only thing that we’re sure about.”

 The urge to tell him that you’ve been sure ever since you found his round little bug of a baby in your grocery store is so strong– you think you may burst because of it. Maybe the lovestruck feeling in your chest has gone supernova. 

 “I have no clue about anything other than the fact that I want to be with you, ___.”  

 Let the record show that between you and him, Jeongguk is the one to let the first tear fall during this conversation.

 “I want to try.” 

 “Yeah–”

 “If you’ll let me, I want to try for you. And if you’ll have me, I want to try with you. Because if we don’t at least try– I think I’ll wish that we did forever.”

 When you beam at him and exhale a simple, ‘Okay’ and Jeongguk echoes it, he thinks this is all too easy.

 But then he remembers how everything with you has always been that way. Maybe not too easy, but just right. Concerning you, the hardest thing he’s had to do is be without. 

 He brings your hand to his lips, brushing your knuckles with a sweet, kiss. “I want to be with you,” he tells you again.

 You bite your lip to suppress your smile. “Then be with me.”

 This time he’s the one saying ‘Okay’ and you’re the one echoing.

 Until backtrack with a pout. “What… what am I? Like– to you.”

 “What do you want to be?”

 “Yours.” 

 Your answer is breathed so quickly, like you didn’t even have to think about it to know that’s what you wanted. Like that’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. How fast you reply gives Jeongguk butterflies. Makes him giddy while he tries to calm himself as he confirms, “Mine,” before he adds quietly, a little shy, “I’ll introduce you as… my girlfriend?”

 Jeongguk is so endeared when you close your eyes, wistful when you ask him to say it again in an airy voice. 

 “My girlfriend,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his.

 When you open your eyes to look at him and he sees unshed tears heavy on your lashline, his heart pulls in his chest and it breaks a little when you murmur, “I didn’t know if I would ever hear you say that.” 

 “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

 A teardrop escapes the corner of your eye when you shake your head, smiling so sweetly, so happily. Jeongguk’s distracted, just taking it in and getting lost in everything that is you. So much so, that he doesn’t see it coming. Not until your arms are wrapped around his neck, his reflexively coming up to wrap around your waist like muscle memory. 

 Jeongguk takes a deep breath when he has you in his arms, nuzzles his nose into your hair. Pulls you impossibly closer, and he can feel how he squeezes the air out of you when you puff out a dulcet laugh into the crook of his neck. 

 When you bring your hand to the back of his head, the feel of your nails on his scalp and your fingers in his hair is enough to make him sigh, sink into the touch. It’s familiar. Feels like a natural progression, just like the way your cheeks brush when you pull away just slightly, only to come back. Closer this time. 

 His nose bumps yours, and he inhales your shaky sigh. 

 “I…”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk breathes. 

 The shift is swift. The temperament of the atmosphere smoothly transforms– going from something saccharine and tenderly sentimental to something decadently rich and heavy. The air all at once becomes thick and intoxicatingly heady; plush and ardently warm. 

 The build-up is gradual. At first, the sudden heady note of warmth that makes your room hazy just feels like a blanket. Like it covers softly, tickles the skin lightly. Then it begins to seep in so slowly, gradually, that it’s not noticeable until the heat of it can be felt bone deep. Until fingers shake with the desire to touch. 

 It starts with Jeongguk nosing along your jaw; down the length of your neck when you tilt your head to the side for him. It starts with the occasional, accidental brush of his lips against your skin. It starts with your hand gripping tight in his hair, a subtle try at pulling him in to keep him near. 

 It ends with a kiss.

 Albeit, a fleeting one– but still a kiss nonetheless. 

 Pulling himself back, Jeongguk’s features are tensed. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted as he struggles with himself. He’s rough when he gets a hold of you by your waist. His fingers digging in harshly; almost like he doesn’t realize how he’s handling you. But he’s gentle when pushes you away to put some space between you. 

 “Why–” you whisper, needy, as you bring your palms to cover his grip at your waist. You pet at the backs of his hands, coaxing him into letting them roam. You guide his touch down to your hips when he gives in briefly, encouraging him to touch you.  

 “I don’t know if– Maybe we shouldn’t–” 

 You crowd his space, bringing yourself to your knees and pushing his palms down to where the hem of your too-big sweatshirt grazes high on your bare thigh. Jeongguk groans after he loses his short internal battle. Can’t rob himself of squeezing at the meat of your thighs just for a second before he’s trying to pull his hands from yours.

 He doesn’t get very far because you end up cradling his face in your hands, angling his head up to look at you. And Jeongguk’s always been so easy for you. It’s no surprise how easily he yields to the movement; how easy his eyes slip shut. How easily he parts his lips when your tongue teases the seam; how easy it is to get lost in the taste of you. 

 “Shouldn’t what, Gguk?” you ask in a soft voice. Each word spoken between the kisses you’re trailing down the column of his neck.

 Jeongguk keeps his hands mostly to himself. Awkwardly letting them hover by your sides as he searches his brain, trying to recall the reason why he’s clinging to his resolve. It is so hard though, when you’re right in front of him. So willing and eager to let him have you. He finds himself following your lips when you barely let the plush center graze his cupid’s bow. 

 “Maybe we should… take it slow?” he offers, dazedly. It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, but Jeongguk can’t help the way his voice carries up at the tail end like he’s not sure that’s really what he wants. 

 A little giggle falls from your lips, puffs hotly over his. And Jeongguk’s never thought you evil before, but right now he’s certain that you are. Because, with wistful mirth still in your voice, all you do is nod like you’re simply humoring him and say, “Yeah, maybe.”

 Then you kiss him again, sighing a delicate, ‘Touch me’ against his lips.

 You bring his awkward hands to your body, placing them on your tits, urging him to cup and squeeze over your sweatshirt. 

 Jeongguk exhales shakily, unable to keep himself from rolling them in his palms. 

 “Yeah,” you whisper, “Please.”

 His hold on your chest turns rough, accidentally letting his pent-up frustration out through his touch and taking it out on you. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but you still whine. Let out a high, airy keen as your eyes slip shut and your head tilts back. 

 There’s no warning. Only Jeongguk’s hands moving to your shoulders, followed by a push and then a tumble, ending with you on your back and Jeongguk hovering over you. He’s got your wrists pinned by your head, and he looks down at you with dark eyes. The frustration in them juxtaposes the surprise in yours. 

 “You know that’s not fair, ___,” he chides. His tone is harsh, trying to sound stern, maybe angry– but there’s a slight waver in his voice that tells you he’s struggling to stay collected. 

 Fussily, you squirm under him. You tug against the hold he has on your wrists, only for him to squeeze tighter. You cant your hips in an attempt to rub up against his, only for Jeongguk to just lift them higher. A laugh of incredulity pairs the disbelief on his face when he glances between your wiggling frame and your irritated pout. 

 “I’m trying to do things right,” he explains around his bemusement, as he roughly presses your wrists deeper into the mattress. “I’m trying to be good.”

 You stare up at him with pinched brows. He looks so pretty above you. Flushed a pretty pink with his lips parted and plumped by the kisses you managed to steal. A stray, misplaced strand of hair flutters with his heavy breathing. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips, and you can physically see how much he wants you; how hard it is for him to fight it.

 When he finally lowers his body to yours, it’s almost defeatedly. Jeongguk gives in and just rests his weight on you. Presses himself against you, hot and hard between your legs. Finding his place easily when you open up and make room for him.

 He keeps that pressure on his cock while he exhales a trembling, almost relieved sigh. His nose brushes yours but when you tilt your head to connect your lips, he pulls back. He does it again, taunting you with almost-kisses until you’re craning your neck again.

 He doesn’t kiss you back when he lets your lips connect. In fact, you can feel how he purses his stubbornly. You stay determined, unswayed by his resistance. Your soft kisses inch from his mouth to pepper cute, all over his blushing skin. The scar on his cheek, the bridge of his nose. The just barely off-center freckle beneath his bottom lip. When your palm naturally settles on his neck, fingertips over his pulse point, you let out a breathy noise of wonder when you feel how fast his heart is racing. 

 And he feels his cock kick shamefully in his pants, letting out a breathy noise of his own. You feel it too and you coo, soft and fond, as you trail your other hand down his spine until it’s flat on the small of his back, pressing encouragingly. 

 Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Jeongguk hangs his head to get closer to you. He bites gently at the pudge of your cheek, letting his teeth drag lightly until he’s mouthed hot, all the way to your ear.  

 “Why won’t you let me be good?” he whispers. 

 He croons prettily against the shell of your ear before he nips teasingly at your earlobe. A heat curls in your belly, making you suck in a short, whiny breath. The insides of your thighs clamp tight around his frame. 

 “Be good to me,” you gasp, arching up into him.

 Jeongguk moans quietly and buries his face in your neck when he can’t stop his hips from stuttering into a clumsy rhythm. Sloppily rutting his cock over your panties, uncoordinated and eager.

 Maybe he’s overly sensitive, hyperaware of your body underneath him, but when you begin to roll your hips, meeting his and matching his pace– he can feel how the little bit of added pressure has you opening up for him. Just enough for his hard-on to slide between, barely pillowed by your panty-covered pussylips. Even through the clothing, he can feel the difference. Like he knows you can. 

 He hears the unexpected moan you let out when you feel his cock rut over your clit and he feels the way your nails dig into his back at the sudden enhanced pleasure before he shifts to rest on his forearms so he can see too. 

 And what a pretty sight you are. 

 Eyes hazy and heavy, half-lidded as you look down your body to where he’s making you feel good. Cheeks flushed a rosy pink with arousal and maybe a little bit of abashment when you glance up at him and see him already watching you. You give him a small, shy grin before letting your eyes flutter closed. Basking in how he’s making you feel, your mouth falling open in a silent moan.  

 As he takes you in, his lips part with a low groan. His own pleasure coming from pleasuring you; heightened by every noise, look, and movement you make. Jeongguk gets such a specific satisfaction and gratification from making you feel good. From being good to you.

 “Is this what you want?” Jeongguk whispers, slowing down some. He settles into a steadier pace, rutting his cock up and down on your cunt with slow, lazy drags. 

 He grins to himself because of how quick you are to nod and let him know that, yes, this is what you want. His hand comes up to smooth some of the flyaways that have sprouted from your squirming and he cups your cheek when your turn into his touch. 

 “Hmm?” he prompts, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

 You huff, annoyed, and he can’t help but coo, smitten. 

 “Yeah– yes I want this, but I–,” you start off strong. You hold his gaze until shyness wins and has you focusing on the necklace dangling from his neck. The LV sways some as he continues to rock his hips. “I want more, too.”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk asks, a smile lacing his dreamy tone. He gives a quick, soft peck to your red-bitten lips in lieu of letting you answer. “I know you do,” he tells you, murmurs it with open-mouthed kisses against your throat. He pulls at the neck of your sweatshirt, draws a violet into your collarbone, using his lips as the pen. Then he tugs the thin skin between his teeth briefly, making you inhale harshly before he kisses it better. 

 “Gonna take care of you,” he promises, “take my time with you.”

 Jeongguk proceeds at his own languid speed, lingering on every new inch of skin that’s revealed as he rids you of your sweatshirt. Of your panties. 

 He allows you your own pace as well. 

 Doesn’t spur you on when you’re slow to open up his dress shirt, doesn’t goad you into nimble quickness when your fingers stumble and it takes you far longer than it should to undo all the buttons. He doesn’t hurry you when your touch drags over his skin, or when your palms falter at his shoulders, or when your fingertips lag all the way down his arms when you finally slide the button-up off. When your shaky hands bide their time, hesitating at the buckle of his belt, he doesn’t rush you. 

 Jeongguk takes his time –and lets you take yours– as if time itself doesn’t exist when it’s passing between the both of you. As if each moment that comes and each moment that goes is inconsequential because moments are meaningless and time is simply a concept when forever is right now. 

 Nothing really matters and there’s no need to rush when he’s in your hands and you’re in his arms and forever is in his heart.  

 “Not yet,” he lilts, grabbing your wrists and sliding the flat of your palms up his tummy and away from his waistline. 

 “But I–”

 “But I–” he flirts coyly. 

 Your mouth opens to argue, but the words never get a voice. His mien makes the words in your throat fall mute and causes a feeling of wistfulness to rouse in your heart.  

 Knelt on his knees between your legs, smiling down at you, playful and flirty. Happy. Wearing a pink full-body flush– Jeongguk is stunning. Distractingly so. 

 He’s glowing; gentle yet radiant. A quiet fondness reflected in his eyes as he looks at you with that well-worn adoration of his. It’s a familiar affection. One that you’ve missed, yearned for, and memorized– one that you’ve tried to unlearn and tried to forget, too, because of how much it ached to remember. 

 Nostalgia is a wonted thing that taints good memories until it hurts to remember them. It warped the memory of Jeongguk’s adoration until even just a fleeting thought about it hurt. It made you want to wipe your memory clean just to be freed from the yearning.

 But with him looking at you the way he is, with that same raw adoration, you can’t fathom how you wanted to forget how it made you feel. How it still makes you feel. Because how good does it feel to be adored? How good does it feel to be wanted? How good does it feel to be finally his? 

 You dig your nails into his skin at the thought, and his tummy tenses. His grip on your wrists tightens and he lets out a soft hiss, the sound buoyed by a light, airy chuckle.

 His thumbs run over the pulse points in your wrists. “Lean against the headboard for me? Get comfy?”

 Cushioned by a few pillows, you do as he says, sinking into the down. Your knees are bent, and your arms are wrapped over your middle, now hyper-aware of how exposed you are comparatively. 

 Jeongguk’s top half is just as bare as you, only his necklace still on. But even though his lower body is covered, his bottoms are unforgiving. Dark slacks belted at his hips, the slight dip by his hipbones accentuated and his v-lines disappearing into the waistband where his cock is tucked away. Too hard and heavy to disguise, clothes doing almost nothing.  

 Not that he’s trying to hide it much at all. He’s palming himself casually, his touch light and his eyes dark. Tracking your movements while he waits for you to get settled. 

 When you are, Jeongguk makes his way to you, his hands resting on your knees as he lets his gaze roam. From your eyes to your lips, to your pillowy tits, to your closed legs. You feel a light pressure, almost tentative like he’s asking for permission with his touch.

 He’s on his best behavior though, so he asks you as well. And when you hear how his voice comes out a little deeper, with an almost imperceptible tremble, as he gently asks, “Can I?”,  your lashes flutter and your thighs reflexively press together, before you let him guide them open. 

 Time isn’t real, but any time in your bed shouldn’t go to waste. So he swiftly resituates himself, resting between your spread legs with his lips naturally finding their place on your neck, his hands on your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s quick, but attentive, as he relocates his mouth. The spit from his kiss marks leave a faint, wet trail from where they start at your neck down to the swell of your tits. He sighs when he gets a hold of them, jiggling a bit and squeezing. He glances at you through his lashes, as he plays your nipples, teasing them till they’re hardened by his touch. He smiles to himself when he sees you bring your bottom lip between your teeth to keep quiet.

 When he uses his lips to tease, he hears you sigh an airy, pleased sound. He’s smug as he swirls his tongue, flicks lightly over the stiff little peak. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding and pushing into him, before it’s released in a stuttery exhale. When you get a hold of his hair, the strands curl around your fingers, softly, like how you hold him close and cradle him to your chest. 

 He gives the paired nipple the same attention. Has you mewling prettily with each lick and suck. Whining with each bite and tug. 

 As he follows the length of your body, he does so with small, suctioning bites. A little nip just below your sternum, a little nip under your ribs. One at the softest part of your lower belly, right next to the pink heart of your belly ring. He gives the jewel a tiny, baby kiss.

 “This is the same one that you had in the first time we…” he stammers, too aware of the blush that simmers just under his skin at the thought. “We… you know… right?”

 Jeongguk’s laying on his front, his head resting against your inner thigh. His arms wrapped around your legs, resting on your belly. The tattooed fingers of his right hand absently toy with the dangly part of the jewelry. 

 Something warms you from the inside, pleasantly surprised by the mushy, lovesick feeling that washes over you. Your heart beats, rapid in your chest, and you wonder if Jeongguk can feel the whirlwind of butterflies in your tummy under his palms. 

 You nod, blushingly and shy. “Yeah, it’s… yeah.”

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he nods back. The puffs under Jeongguk’s eyes form when he smiles and adds, “This one is my favorite… Gonna make you feel good now, okay?”

 He says it so casually, that you want to laugh a little, but the anticipation it sparks makes you tense. Your pussy clenches on nothing, and you can feel that tell-tale heartbeat pulse between your legs. 

 “Okay… yeah…” you whisper dumbly, trying to hide how eager you are. You slowly open your legs a little wider so you can see him better, so he can touch you better. 

 Jeongguk switches from having one of his hands wrapped around your thigh to it resting palm down on your mons. He uses his thumb to lightly run along your plump folds, up and down. His eyes are fixed on your pussy, and his tongue peeks out to wet his lips a little before he nibbles on the inside of his lip, a soft smile making the corners curl. 

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he says again, his tone playful and a little wistful this time. He kisses just above your slit.

 Past lovers had said your cunt was pretty or maybe perfect when they found themselves between your legs, but Jeongguk has always called your pussy cute. It’s just a thing he does. And you don’t know why, but it never fails to make you blush, a little giddy and shy– something just so simple and sweet about his word of choice. 

 Even now, it has you wiggling and trying to inch your legs closed as you bring your hands up to hide your face. It’s whiny, but you both know you don’t really mean it when you say, “Stooooop” the word dragged out and laced with pleased flattery.

 You can feel Jeongguk’s warm laughter puff over your cunt as he urges you to keep your legs spread. He hums as the giggles subside and says, “Don’t be shy now, I’m just getting started.”

 A wistful sigh sounds, and it’s soft and cute and taunting when you say, “Okay well, hurry up.”

 You shift slightly here and there to get more comfortable, running a hand through your hair as you resist the urge to smile back at Jeongguk when he gives you a look. When you bring your arm down from your hair, Jeongguk snags it, guiding your hand to your cunt. But when you start to play yourself he stops you, tuttingly.

 “Don’t touch, just– open up for me,” he instructs, “Show me.”

 Jeongguk groans under his breath when you do as he says. When he stroked over your pussy lips just a moment ago, they were plush and smooth, soft to the touch with your arousal tucked neatly between your folds. But with them spread, he can see how you’re glossy with slick; so dewy when he’s barely even touched you. 

 “You’re already so wet. How long have you been like this, hmm?” he wonders aloud, gathering a small bit of the sticky clear at your opening with his finger before just barely pushing it inside. Kind of like he’s trying to put the little droplet back where it came from; not let it go to waste. Then he brings his touch to your clit and your pussy slick aids the up and down swipes of his thumb. 

 “Ah– fuck,” you faintly gasp. 

 Jeongguk’s cock pulses as you bring your other hand down, using both to spread yourself open more and pull back the hood of your clit. Making sure his touch is direct and the sensation feels as good as possible. The thought of you already being so greedy for pleasure is enough for him to leak, precum surely leaving a wet patch in his briefs. 

 Even though he’s being gentle, when he rubs over your exposed clit, you shy away from his touch despite being so fiendish for it. Jeongguk babies you with a coo because he knows that you’re probably so sensitive. You gave yourself almost no time to warm up, afterall. 

 “Too much?” he asks you.

 With a shake of your head, you say, “No, no… just– slowly, please.”

 Your words make him smile and he gives your inner thigh a honeyed kiss for being so good. The smile lingers because slow is the pace he always intended to use, at your request or not. It’s how he intends to finish you too. For the first time, at least. 

 Jeongguk keeps that slow speed until your body relaxes and another few drops of clear slick drip for your cunt. The thumb of his other hand rubs softly over your taint as he collects what you leak and tucks it back inside. Your pussy clenches and your hole puckers at the sensation every time, and it makes him fucking throb. 

 The thumb on your clit only speeds up enough for it to not be torturous or agonizingly slow, the pace satisfying but remaining lax and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. Once he finds a good rhythm, he keeps the motions constant and consistent.

 When you start to get antsy and fidget, he smiles to himself knowingly. 

 “Feels good, baby?” he asks you, and when you nod, he whispers, “Yeah? Look so pretty…”

 And you didn’t lie. It does feel good. But he doesn’t go any faster. He doesn’t push the fingers at your opening in any farther. And after a handful of seconds that feel like minutes that feel like hours– there still isn’t any indication that he plans to.  

 When you roll your hips, trying to hint at what you want, Jeongguk stops you with a scolded tsk, telling you to stay still. The sound you let out is frustrated and petulant.

 There’s a taunting note in Jeongguk’s voice when he says, “I thought you said it feels good?”

 “It does,” you tell him, “But– faster?”

 Jeongguk’s expression is entertained, chuffed even. “I told you I was gonna take my time with you. Need you to be patient for me, baby–”

 “Please–”

 “Hush, ___.” 

 There’s still lingering amusement in his tone, but there’s also a sharpness, a hint of disapproval and something stern that wasn’t there before. It’s enough of a warning to silence the begging on the tip of your tongue. 

 “I’ll get you there, baby,” he says, his voice sweet again. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

 It’s quiet for a moment. Then–

 “I changed my mind, it doesn’t feel good.”

 Jeongguk doesn’t even look up from your pussy when he asks a preoccupied, “No?” Then he peeks at you, and when you give a pouty nod he hums. It’s smiling and mirthful when he dismisses you. “Well, don’t worry. It will soon.”

 Jeongguk is content between your thighs, still playing with your clit slowly. He only checks on you when your squirming mostly stops and you become suspiciously mute. 

 He snorts when he sees you scowling at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” After a few seconds with no response, he continues with, “Oh, so you’re going to be difficult now?”

 You shrug, snooty. 

 Laughing, he asks, “You’re really gonna act like it doesn’t feel good?” The corners of his lips curl softly and his eyes narrow like he’s scrutinizing you. His head tilts a little when he continues with, “Like you’re not leaking, right now? Like you wouldn’t be making a mess on your sheets if I wasn’t helping you?”

 Jeongguk watches your cheeks steadily turn a deep pink at his words until you look away from him, turning your nose in the air. You probably would have covered your face with your hands to avoid his gaze had they not been occupied.

 He chuckles again when he’s only met more silence. Just the slightest squirm when he tucks another leaked droplet back into your cunt. To make a point.

 “That’s okay, you can be mad at me as long as you’re patient, too,” he says, tone grossly fond and a perfect example of the patience he wants from you. “Still gonna make you cum. Still gonna be good to you and give you what you want.”

 And it seems what people say about patience being a virtue and all that, is true. Because just like Jeongguk said, with just a bit more time and some decorum, it does start to feel even better.   

 Like the way he’s been touching you, the come-up is slow and steady. The hot waves of pleasure that ebb in your lower belly. The rise and fall of your chest that gradually gets faster. The noises that get harder and harder to keep in. 

 Jeongguk doesn’t need to hear you, though, to know he’s getting you there. But he’s enjoying this brattier side of you –he remembers you being difficult every now and then, but overall you were always so good for him; never fought him too hard on things– so he humors you by asking, “Starting to feel nice, baby?”

 Everso tart, you shrug again, looking off to the side. 

 Still, Jeongguk doesn’t need to see your face to know he’s getting you there. Your pussy is a whistleblower, telling him everything he needs to know. Your cunt– leaking non-stop, contracting constantly. Your tiny clit– now puffy and swollen from all his attention. 

 Your fingers holding your pussy lips apart for him have a mild tremor. Your brows are arched when you finally give him your attention again, watching his thumb swipe up and down, over and over again. Your legs are beginning to tremble beside him. Your head is lulling back, and your lungs are exhaling a lewd sigh. 

 “I– I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly.

 Jeongguk purrs, is just about to tease you and your stubbornness with something along the line of ‘Really? Thought it didn’t feel good, ___’. But he doesn’t get the chance because of how close the string in you is to snapping. How it’s pulled so taut that it has you near tears, that slow and steady come-up finally peaking.

 “Oh my god, Gguk– my– my pussy’s gonna cum,” you cry quietly, legs shaking as you struggle to keep them open.

 “Mhm, I told you, baby,” he hums, smug, “Let me see how good it feels.”

 Your face is turned into your shoulder, but you nod for him. Focusing on the ruining, slow, consistent rubbing of his thumb. The pleasure is so mind-numbingly good that, as much as you want to cum, you try to make it last as long as possible. 

 Which isn’t much longer at all, only a few more vertical swipes over your clit is all you can handle before you’re mewing a soft warning and cumming so hard your body convulses.

 “That’s my girl. So pretty, baby. Did so good; always such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk praises, full of lust-filled awe as he watches you finish. He feels your clit pulsing under his thumb and he sees your cunt squeezing repeatedly around nothing and now he that he’s not preventing it, he sees how your pussy cums– leaking everything that he tucked away and dripping down to your sheets. Making a mess like he knew it would.

 He continues to rub your clit until your body twitches, curling in on yourself as you close your legs and bring them to your chest. Wrapping your arms around the backs of your knees and pulling your legs to your chest, you curl into yourself for protection as Jeongguk moves to shed himself of the rest of his clothes. Then he sits on his heels while he watches you, amused. 

 Even though you’ve made a great attempt at hiding your pussy away, with the way you’re positioned it still peeks out from between your thighs. Puffy and shiny. 

 You’re on your back with your eyes closed, still catching your breath. The feel of Jeongguk’s hands on you makes you jump, and when his touch moves form the backs of your thighs closer to your sensitive cunt, you whine, kicking at his arms weakly.

 “Shh,” he murmurs, “I won’t touch, I just want to look.”

 Somewhat soothed by his words, you begin to shift to a more relaxed position but Jeongguk pushes your legs back together and your knees back to your chest. 

 You gripe at being manhandled. “What if I want to see, too?” 

 “You don’t need to see if I tell you what I see,” Jeongguk reasons.

 “It’s mine,” you argue.

 “Ours,” he corrects.

 After telling Jeongguk that he’s dumb and asking him to please shut up, both of you dissolve into a fit of laughter. When you kick again, trying to get his shoulder as punishment, he gets a grip on your leg before you can land the hit and he kisses your ankle. You sigh.

 It’s quiet, and you’re content letting Jeongguk pet at you, listening as he tells you about what he sees. He says cute a few times. Wet, messy. His fingers brush over your folds, even plumper than before, and you can feel the sticky wetness that stays behind when he moves his touch to somewhere else.

 When he uses his thumbs to part your pussy lips, you hear him whine. The breathy noise makes you grin, and you hum lightly. 

 “Still cute?” you ask aloud. Eyes on the ceiling, smile still on your lips.

 Jeongguk knows he said he wouldn’t touch, but he doesn’t think you’re too sensitive anymore. He still bypasses your clit just in case when he slowly runs his fingertip to your opening. When he presses into the second knuckle, you moan sweetly and the sound mixes with the audible wetness. There’s a crystalline string still attached to his finger when he pulls away. 

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk hums, answering your question. “But so messy.”

 You bite your lip when Jeongguk slips his finger in again, a little father this time. 

 “Clean me up, then,” you whisper, airy and wispy. 

 Jeongguk hums and when you look to the sound, you can see him peeking at you over your bent knees that are still pulled to your chest. He scrunches his nose at you cutely, and you mirror the curve of his lips.

 “I guess I should, since I’m the one who made you make such a mess,” he hums, like he’s mulling it over. But the fact that he does so while lowering his face to your cunt shows that he’s already made his decision. 

 In this position, you can’t see him and it makes you tense in anticipation while you wait.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a little mean to keep you waiting, but he can see you so perfectly like this. Can see how you’re trying control your arousal and calm yourself down with deep breaths. He can see how it’s not working.

 “You’re shaking,” he observes dreamily. 

 Your pussy leaks and he watches that glossy slick drip down. He uses his pointer finger to play with the droplet at your hole, swirling the dewiness around the cinched muscle.

 The sigh you let out is stuttered, and your hole clenches under his touch before you force yourself to relax again. You swallow your embarrassment before you admit, “I want it really bad, Gguk.”

 You sound like you’re close to crying and Jeongguk soothes you with wet kisses on your thighs. 

 “All you have to do is ask, baby,” Jeongguk tells you gently. His kisses move till they’re right next to your pussy, his tongue poking out to lick just outside your folds. His thumbs pull you open and he blows lightly.

 “Oh my god,” you whimper. 

 Jeongguk’s voice is full of flirty, mirth when he asks, “What do you say? Hmm?”

 The heartbeat in your cunt is the only thing you can focus on. The pulsing is so loud and strong that it drowns everything else out. You don’t even really hear it when you sigh a hazy, “Please, sir.” 

 Predictably, your words go straight to his cock. But weirdly enough, he also feels them in his heart? He can’t explain it but somehow the lust thrumming through him melts into something fond? A lovesick impulse has him opening your legs so he can slot himself in between.

 He doesn’t lay on you but holds himself above on a braced arm. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek as he looks at you. The corners of your eyes are damp, confirming the tears he thought he had heard in your voice earlier. Your lips are redder and a bit swelled, probably from you pulling them between your teeth.  

 Jeongguk kisses the corner of one eye, then the other, and then your lips. His thumb glides over your cheekbone. He sounds gentle when he says, “No ‘sir’ today, okay? Just Gguk.”

 You nod in his hold. 

 “Good girl,” he smiles, soft and sweet. “I’ll clean you up now, won’t tease you anymore.”

 You breathe a relieved sigh as Jeongguk kisses all the way down your tummy and you think about how good it’s going to feel, after all this time, to have his mouth all over your cunt. To feel his tongue licking into you, deep and slow. To feel his lips wrapping around your clit with light sucks. 

 The closer Jeongguk gets to your pussy, the harder it is to keep still. He smiles as you squirm and you can feel it in the juncture of your inner thigh where his mouth has strayed. It’s not too long before he gets back on track, kissing his way to your pussy till his lips are tucked between your plush folds and the tip of his tongue is circling your clit. 

 Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as you sit up, resting on your elbows to watch him. Just the sight of him is enough to make the first surge of heat curl in your belly. He’s got his eyes closed, lashes sitting pretty on the highs of his cheek as he licks at you. Cleaning you up and making a mess of you all at once. 

 “You look so pretty,” you whisper as you card a hand through his hair, pushing the stands off his forehead and out of his face.

 Without stopping his tongue, Jeongguk glances up at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He moans pleased and happy into your pussy. Only pulls away for a second to whisper a cute ‘thank you’.

 His tongue is busy and so are his hands, running them up your body. When he gets to your tits, he’s harsh. Digging in and squeezing with palms that are just as greedy as his mouth. He uses the hold he has on them to pull himself closer, push his tongue deeper. The harshness of his touch makes you hiss, the hand you have in his hair tugging. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes roll back a little before he loosens grip, squeezing your tits once more, gently this time, as an apology. Then he’s smoothing his palms along your waist till one’s wrapped around your thigh and the other’s resting on your tummy.  

 He pulls away briefly to look at you, offering a sheepish grin before he pecks just above your slit. The hand he has on your belly absently fiddles with your bellyring.

 “Sorry,” he says, “I just– I don’t know, I didn’t notice how rough I was being.”

 You hum while you rest your feet on his back and wiggle your toes. 

 “I think I’ve just been wanting you for so long…” He turns his head and nuzzles into your leg by his head, his hair tickling the sensitive skin. “And now that I have you, I–” His lips graze your inner thigh with every word and when he’s at the softest part, he bites gently. 

 On a sigh, you ask, “You what?”

 Resting where his teeth just were, he tilts his head, looking up at you. “It’s hard for me to control myself. I just– can’t get enough of you.” His words are said with a sigh and uttered in between roaming wet kisses. 

 After he promises he’ll be more careful with you, he begins to lick broad stripes over your cunt. When you spread your legs wider, you can feel the flat of his tongue against your clit. But it’s just slightly, just a brush of his tongue. 

 “My clit,” you moan, looking down your nose at him, “Play with my clit.”

  He hums, pulling back a little. With your legs parted so wide, your pussy lips are spread just enough for him to see the little bud. He watches you as he uses the very tip of his tongue, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive spot just under your hood.

 Your brows pinch and your legs twitch as they naturally try to inch close, the feel of Jeongguk’s tongue so good and so much that your body is already on the verge of being overwhelmed. 

 “Ah– yeah, like that, Gguk,” you sigh letting your head roll back, basking in how good he’s making you feel, “Keep licking my pussy like that.”

 Your eyes lull shut while you let him make you feel good, and it’s then that you notice his hand on your tummy is still toying with your piercing. It’s distracting only for a moment, only before you realize that every time he does something to your clit with his tongue, he does the same to the dangly part of the jewelry with his fingers.

 When Jeongguk circles your clit, he twirls the charm. When he licks up and down over your clit, the little heart gets flicked too. When he suctions his lips and sucks your clit in and out of his mouth, he tugs gently on your belly ring.

 You can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose. One part of you thinking the patterns match up too well for it to be unconscious, the other part thinking it could just be an absentminded coincidence. You also can’t be sure why the nuanced touches are making the pleasure in your gut curl so tight; burn so hot.

 “Gguk– you’re gonna make me cum again…” you drone, lustdrunk. 

 He smiles while his tongue continues to lick lightly. “Am I?”

 While looking down your body at him, you nod. Your body already pulling taut with the tension that always preludes your orgasms.

 Jeongguk’s lips wrap around your clit and he gives a quick sucking kiss before he pulls away with a little pop! sound. “Not yet, I’m not done cleaning you up.”

 Groaning, you throw your head back. “You said you weren’t gonna tease anymore.”

 “I did,” he confirms, his big palms finding the backs of your thighs and pushing them back, “But not so you could cum– so I could clean up your mess–”

 “Your mess–”

 “Our mess,” he amends, the tips of his fingers straying to the newly exposed parts of you. Jeongguk brushes over your hole, and you suck in a small gasp. “You’re messy here too, baby.”

 Whining softly, you squirm as Jeongguk presses light, sucking kisses into your skin and there’s a subconscious urge to close your legs to keep him from getting where he so clearly intends. At the first signs of subtle hesitance, you feel his hands hold your legs open more firmly

 “Let me?” he breathes, “Please?”

 And something about how his voice is so soft –hazy and dreamy and full of so much lust and desire– has you relaxing, giving in. Docile and pliant in his hands. 

 You suppose some things may never change.

 The first feel of his tongue tasting you where no one has before makes you exhale a shaky sigh. Your hole puckering under the featherlight licks he gives. When he circles the cinched muscle, your mouth falls open and you look down your body and between your open legs to where Jeongguk already has his eyes on you. 

 His eyes get little puffs under them when he sees your reaction and smiles. The confusedly pleasured pinch of your brows. The tense way your hands grip the sheets under you.

 Giving your cheek a quick peck, he asks, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

 It makes the memory of him –hot and hard and leaking with your tongue on his hole– flash in your mind. It reminds you that he knows what he’s doing to you, that he knows he’s making you feel good because you made him feel the same way. Sure the anatomy’s different, but a tongue is a tongue and a hole is a hole. 

 In lieu of being difficult, you answer him with a moan; with your head hitting your pillows again.

 That’s confirmation enough for Jeongguk as he echoes your moan with his own. He wraps his lips around the tight muscle in a nasty wet kiss and then drags his tongue up and along your leaking center till he’s at your clit where he plays until he works you into a whiny mess.

 You’re tensing, and he can feel how your body shifts as your chest expands with the deep breaths you’re taking. Like you’re trying to focus and keep yourself earthbound by delaying the impending high. 

 It’s a high that’s inevitable though, and you have a warning on the tip of your tongue only for it to go to waste when Jeongguk makes his way down again as soon as he senses it.

 And he repeats this– alternating between rimming you tauntingly and eating you till he can tell you’re right on the edge. You can feel how he smirks and you’re sure it’s amusement that you can hear prettying up little noises he purrs. His continuous teasing has you letting out barely contained whiny keens. 

 But Jeongguk can tell you’re doing your best to behave. The brattish way about you from before is nowhere to be seen. Not even when he feels your body slump for the nth time, panting from another almost-orgasm he takes away.��  

 “You’re gonna cum aren’t you?” Jeongguk wonders aloud, pulling back a little to see how your pussy clenches in anticipation.

 He hears you swallow, flicks his eyes up to watch as you bring a hand up to tug a little at your hair. It trembles a little as you bring it down to his locks.

 “I- yeah… just… please…” You tug, pulling him to your clit by the crown of his head and holding him there with both hands. “Just stay there, please…”

 You can’t help the way that you start to roll and grind against his face. Jeongguk’s lips and his tongue rubbing against you repeatedly with the up and down motion of your hips, and his nose bumping your clit a little every now and again. 

 His hands dig into your waist like he’s trying to pull you closer, suffocate himself with your cunt. It’s when he shakes his head with subtle little side to side motions over your clit that your pleasure peaks with your legs shaking before they’re closing around his head.

 You cum hard and quietly, hushed ‘don’t stop’s and ‘keep going’s tumbling from your lips as you hold his mouth against you until you can’t take it anymore. You use one hand to pull him away by the hair, your other coming down to press against your still pulsing pussy. 

 With the hold you still have in his hair, you deliriously guide and maneuver him upwards. You’re still trying to catch your breath, so the quiet awed, ‘Whoa…’ you voice sounds airy

 The position you’ve got Jeongguk in now has him straddling you across your upper torso with strong thighs caging you in. His cock bobbing a little right in your face. Heavy and flushed, the tip an angry shade of pink and shiny with precum. It’s instinctive when you reach out with your small hand to wrap around the base. And again, something awe-filled tumbles from your mouth.

 “You’re so hard…” 

 The words float past your lips in the form of a breathless whisper, your lashes fluttering as your gaze jumps from his cock to his face. Your hand strokes lightly, just your fingertips running over the warm, silky skin. 

 “Missed you,” Jeongguk says with a tiny, unabashed shrug. As if that’s explanation enough for the state he’s in.

 He smiles with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth and you smile back.

 The pad of your thumb rubs at the underside of the crown when a drop of precum leaks, massaging it in messily. “Can I use my mouth?”

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk sounds, not trusting his voice enough to not shake.

 You begin by placing weighted kisses along his length, starting at the base till your lips pucker around the slit. The heady taste of precum makes you purr, moaning softly. Jeongguk’s hips cant forward, and when you glance up you can see how his head has rolled back.

 Smiling at how affected he already is by the smallest things, you run your teeth over the sensitive head. You anticipate the hiss that Jeongguk sucks in. Your tongue swirls around to soothe and to taste before your mouth opens to swallow. 

 The tip of his cock barely grazes the back of your throat before Jeongguke is pulling his hips back and choking just slightly on the whiny gasp that gets caught in his throat. He threads a hand in your hair and tugs you off. 

 Your forehead is resting against his lower tummy, and you giggle a little before you kiss at the slight jutting of his hipbone. His cock throbs, and he groans.

 “What’s wrong?” you ask, smiling into him.

 You can feel his fingers massage lightly at your scalp, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking down at you, lovesick as he rolls his eyes at your playfully. 

 “Go slow, okay?” he asks softly, “Tease me a little?”

 Closing your eyes briefly as you let the sound of his moonstruck voice wash over you, you kiss sweetly at his hip once more before giving small kitten licks to the warm, flushed skin of his cock. He sighs like he’s in love.

 “Like this?” you ask, coquettishly. 

 Jeongguk nods when you look up at him with your mouth open and the tip of your tongue flicking lightly.

 “Lick the tip,” he whispers while he gets a hold of himself and guides it to your mouth. 

 You keep your eyes on him as you slowly drag the flat of your tongue with long licks.

 “Good… that’s good baby…” he says airily.

 Jeongguk glances down his nose at you for just a moment longer before his head is rolling back, and he’s moaning. His little sounds are quiet, but they’re almost constant. And you’re really not doing much, just licking softly at his frenulum, but you can already feel how his cock is getting stiffer, can see how the muscles in his tummy tense and untense… like he’s already getting close.

 Kissing the crown, you pull away, stroking over him lazily. Squeezing at the base when he kicks in your palm. “Already?” you ask gently.

 Jeongguk’s eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but at your choice of words, he laughs lightly. “Yes, already,” he tells you, pointedly. “That’s why I said to go slow.”

 Slow is good for you. Slow lets you take it all in. Take all of him in. 

 Slow lets you tease drop after drop of precum out; lets you coax your name from Jeongguk’s lip over and over again until you’re sure you’ll hear his lovechants in your dreams tonight. Slow lets you memorize the way that his hands twitch wherever they touch you, how he gasps when your tongue does something that feels extra nice, how he whines when you bring your free hand up and roll his balls in your palm. 

 He’s a bit predictable, endearingly so with the blush on his cheeks as he urges the hand toying with his balls a little farther back. You smile to yourself as you touch him, rubbing at his taint and taking a moment to just watch his face. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes are shut, mouth just barely parted. His brows pinch just slightly when you inch your touch farther back and the cinched muscle clenches briefly under your fingertips, before he relaxes. It’s light and hazy when he whispers, “Yeah, baby…”

 The light circles you’re tracing around Jeongguk’s hole have his cock throbbing. You have to wrap your lips around the head to keep him still enough to taste and properly tease, sucking with tiny bobs of your head as you drink down everything he leaks. 

 “I– ___, oh my god–” Jeongguk pants, looking down at you, like he can’t believe you or your mouth, can’t believe how good it feels to have you again. 

 You hum, lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock as you smile up at him as best you can. His chest expands with a sharp inhale when you press your fingers a littler firmer against his hole.

 “Want me to put them in?” you ask between the soft open-mouthed kisses you press to his cock.

 The sound that Jeongguk lets out makes your kisses cease and has you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Your thighs rub together, and your pussy is needy between them.  

 Jeongguk’s never done it before, at least not fully and with someone else. But the thought alone is almost enough to make him finish. It would be a first for you and him, together. Something he’s been wanting, craving.

 He’s still trying to get his thoughts in order when you prompt him with a patient, ‘Hmm?’. 

 “I- No, no–” he ends up saying, “Just– just play with me.”

 It’s sighed, laced with lust and contentment. Having you right now, just playing as he said, is more than enough for him. The anticipation does feel nice though, hot and sweet like a whispered promise of next time. Jeongguk wonders if you’ll ruin him. 

 “You just want me to play?” you ask, “You don’t want to cum?”

 And Jeongguk’s sure you will. Ruin him, that is. If you haven’t already.

 Your voice comes out lovily teasing, and your hands stay busy while you look up at him, eyes big and so pretty. Lips glossy with spit, maybe a little bit of his precum. 

 “Not– not yet?” 

 Jeongguk’s voice sounds unsure in your ears, and his actions contradict his words when you bring your lips to his leaking tip. His hips roll forward seemingly on their own accord, the most sensitive part of his cock rubbing against your tongue that you’ve pillowed underneath the crown. 

 A choked little whine falls from his open mouth before his head is lulling back and his hands are coming to your hair. Humming, you suction your lips around the head and bring the hand you don’t have busy to his hips, urging him to keep rocking his hips, slow so you can keep the pressure from your tongue constant. 

 “Oh my god– baby… baby–” Jeongguk moans, his gaze back on you. His brows furrowed and arched up, his mouth agape. 

 Under your touch, you can feel his muscles tense. How his breaths come out huffed and strained. How he sometimes tries to pull his hips away before he pushes them in like he rethought it, maybe like he never meant to. How no matter how hard he tries to keep from doing it, the stalling pace of his hips picks up.

 And you can tell he’s going to cum. 

 He keeps muttering these fucked out little whispers of your name, of baby, of my baby. Almost like they’re warnings, maybe pleas. But not pleas for you to stop, or tease him anymore. You can hear the difference, can feel it in the way he touches you. Can taste it on your tongue with every heavy drop of precum that he’s leaking.  

 It’s like a string snaps in him, when he groans something deep and dissonant and his hips stop all together and his hold in your hair turns almost painful as he uses his grip to work your mouth over his cock.

 “Yeah,” he breathes, “Don’t fucking stop… Gonna make me fucking cum–”

 His cock is throbbing in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence. Coating your tongue in so many thick, hot shots of white. You hum, moving your fingers from massaging his taint so that you can roll his balls in your palm. 

 Jeongguk’s hand is shaking a little when he brings it down to cup your face, when he gently pulls you off him. His cock still fat and bobbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He guides your gaze to his.

 He’s bracing himself above you with his forearm against your headboard, looking down at you a little sweaty and so flushed. Chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He’s got a little smile on his face when he runs the pad of his thumb over the plump of your bottom lip. Your mouth opens instinctively. The little smile on his lips grows before he’s biting it down.

 His thumb presses down on the fleshy muscle, and you naturally let your lips wrap around it.

 “Good girl,” he says, softly.

 His words are tangible, and you close your eyes and you smile as you just let the praise glide over your body. It’s almost like you can feel each letter press a kiss into your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s a copycat as he too presses kisses here and there while he resituates himself. Going from straddling your ribcage to finding his home between your legs. Until you manuver him once more. He’s still home, between your legs, but on his back with you straddling him now.

 Jeongguk doesn’t complain at the manhandling. Just looks up at you, rubs little nonsensical patterns just above the creases of your thighs. 

 “Can we do it now?”

 His laugh is bright and loud at first before he gets a hold of himself, but he’s still smiling as he lets his shining eyes and his hands wander. His fingertips trialing over your skin until his gets his hands to your tits. His thumbs flick over your nipples while he hums, amused. 

 “Now you have to wait for me to be ready again,” he tells you conversationally, still teasing you.

 You pout playfully, letting your own fingers explore, tracing the line of ink where his sleeve comes to an end on his shoulder. “So boring, Gguk,” you jest.

 He scrunches his nose at you. “Why do you think I told you, ‘not yet’?”

 Rolling your eyes, you reposition yourself; less over his torso and more over his hips. “Well,” you start, lowering your pussy down to where his cock lays flat on his tummy, “Waiting doesn’t have to be boring.” You drag your cunt over his still plump, but not-quite hard cock. 

 One of his hands quickly jerks down to get a hold of your hips and stop your movements. He hisses.. 

 He says something about how he never said it had to be boring as you reach between your bodies and get a hold of his half-hard cock. Goes on about how he literally just came and how he needs a second to recuperate as you bring the head to your wet opening. 

 “Can I?” you ask vaguely, interrupting him.

 He doesn’t say anything more, just gives you the littlest nod and he squeezes his eyes shut while you squeeze him into you. He’s not there yet, but he’s still sensitive and its still a tight fit.

 Jeongguk looks down his chest to where you’re sitting prettily on his slowly hardening cock. His eyes roll back slightly before he’s scrubbing one of his hands over his face. “You’re–”

 “Did you watch our video?” you interrupt again. 

 Stuttering a little bit, and winching some, Jeongguk uses the couple of seconds it takes for you to bring yourself down to him, to think. 

 “No, felt guilty… tried to hold out completely but ended up giving in and thinking about you…” he says, his hands finding their place at your hips.. 

 His answer isn’t what you expected but it still has you smiling softly, chest to chest, resting on your elbows, and playing with his hair. “And what did you think about?” you muse, words breathy and flirty.

 Jeongguk’s eyes instinctively dart to your curved lips. “Your mouth.”

 You scrunch your nose at him cutely as you ask, “On your cock?” 

 He gasps when you grind your hips just a little, the movement stiffening his cock up that much more. Jeongguk can feel his cheeks heat up as he shakes his head, the hands he has on your hips moving to your thighs and then back up, squeezing and making little chills crawl across your skin.  

 “On my lips…” he admits quietly, licking them. “Missed kissing you.”

 With a heart that grows fond in your chest, you lean down and give what he missed. Jeongguk sighs into your mouth, melts underneath you. He cranes his neck and the kiss deepens, his tongue slipping in between your lips. It’s not until you having him moaning softly into your mouth that you disconnect from him and make your way to his ear. 

 “Thought about you too,” you tell him, “touched myself to the thought of you missing me; wrapping your hand around your cock with me on your mind.”

 Jeongguk’s fingertips dig into the fatty part of your ass, latches his lips onto the junctre between your neck and your shoulder. He sinks his teeth in just a touch to quiet his moan. 

 The whiny moise that you let out precedes the, “I fanatasized about the way you would fuck me when you came back to me–”

 “I wanted to, but I just felt so bad–”

 “Shh,” you hush him, “Doesn’t matter now…”

 You finally make to move your hips for real this time, but lifting them has you letting out a tiny hiss of pain that’s followed by a cute, airy laugh. “Almost forgot how big you are.”

 Jeongguk’s heart was just tugging inside his chest but now his cock is throbbing inside of you. Even as he wonders if there’s been anyone since him. 

 But once you get over that first hint of pain, past the initial sting of him stretching and filling you up, the only wonder is how Jeongguk survived without you for so long. 

 The light from your blinds peaks through your hair; wild and messy and draping over your shoulder. The long strands almost act as a curtain, hiding you and Jeongguk away. Spots of sunshine come through here and there, and they hit different parts of your body as your body becomes his body. On the tip of your nose, over the curve of your breast, the tops of your thighs. 

 And Jeongguk’s knows he is so fucking lucky. Not because he gets to have you like this –warmed by his touched and sunlight– but because he gets to have it again. Because he gets another chance at having you at all, after fucking it up once already.

 “Gguk,” you pant, “I feel so good right now.” 

 You’ve gone from bouncing on his cock, to griding on it, feeling his tip rub against the deepest parts of you. Your palms are flat on his lower tummy, and when he grabs your hips, helping you move back and forth on him, your nails dig into the muscle. 

 It makes him moan, quiet like the little sounds that you can’t stop making. 

 Jeongguk knows he was basically on the verge of tears just a second ago, but he is still a man and he can’t stop himself from asking, “Who’s making you feel so good baby?”

 He can tell how fucked out and how close you are because of how easily you answer him. How being stubborn and bratty doesn’t even seem to cross your mind when you moan, “You, it’s always you.” 

 Pulling you to his chest and fucking up into your cunt is much sweeter than it probably seems. He does so to be close to you, to feel your chest against his, to feel how your body shakes as you get closer, to feel how you bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your moans and cries.

 “Yeah–” you sob into his skin, “you’re gonna make me cum– please– please, can I cum?”

 Your words come out staccato and irregular, punched out one by one by his cock as he fucks you faster. But Jeongguk doen’t say anything yet, just focuses on the slick sounds your pussy is making everytime he bottoms out, on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of the slick, velvety heat, on how his fingers sink into your ass as he squeezes and tugs and pulls your cheeks apart to bury himself as deep as he can when he cums with you. 

 “Fuck, baby cum for me,” Jeongguk pants, his words a little rushed as he feels it all come to a head, “Cum all over my fucking cock while I cum in your pussy.”

 You don’t say anything when you cum, and neither does Jeongguk. Both cumming with nothing but gasps. Your’s sounding sweet, almost awed, as you just let your cunt squeeze and contract around Jeongguk’s cock, almost like you forgot you could cum that hard. Jeongguk’s are more guttural as his cock throbs, pulsing with each shot of cum he pumps into your pussy.

 ~~~

 “Your roommates are actually terrifying.”

 The voice makes you smile, laughing sleepily, eyes closed for just a moment longer before you turn your head to see a dishevelleddly dressed Jeongguk, holding a single glass of water in his hand. 

 He shrugs off his blazer that he’s wearing over his briefs (you’ve helped yourself to his button up), and sits next to where you’re laying down. He nudges you his foot till you sit up and take the water from him.

  It’s a content type of quiet while you both pass the glass back and forth, sharing. It only last for a minute or two before Jeongguk is clearing your throat.

 “So… what happened to your plant, hmm?”

 He must have seen the pitiful looking succulent in your living room when he went to get the water. And you know he’s just messing around and that he only said it to strike conversation and fill the silence, but still, it makes something ugly stir in your gut. 

 “You didn’t remind me,” you say, trying to literally shrug it off and give the topic a quick stop.

 But Jeongguk is giggling as he says back, “Oh, so it’s my fault?”

 “Everything is your fault.”

 It’s snappy and said with enough bitterness that Jeongguk is physically taken aback. But then he thinks and then he softens.

 “Hey,” he says gently.

 You look at him, eyes swirling with a mixture of anger and hurt. 

 Jeongguk brushes a little bit of your hair out of your face as he looks you over. “I know,” he acknowledges quietly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but I hope with some time, you’ll be able to see it.”

 You frown a little before giving him a sad small smile and you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. He turns into the touch and gives your palm a soft kiss.

 “I know you’re sorry,” you tell him, “I know you are and I forgive you –my head knows that but– my heart is still sad.”

 Something about how you say it reminds Jeongguk of how young you are. But not in the way it did before. Not like your youth is a burden, or a red flag. It just reminds him that he needs to be careful with you. 

 “I know, and that’s okay… I know it’s going to take time,” Jeongguk gives you a sad, yet understanding shrug.

 And for once, it’s a good thing that time does what time is meant to. It passes and it allows things to grow; for things to heal. 

 “Speaking of time,” you say, lightheartedly trying to change the subject, “How long do I have you?”

 “As long as you want me.”

 Jeongguk’s reply is met with the most underwhelmed, flat stare you have every given him. He snorts before he says, “Till tomorrow afternoon– I have to pick up Nari.”

 His heart feels like it’s going to explode in his chest when he sees how your eyes light up at the mention of his daughter, at how you jabber on with questions about her. How has she been?, Is she talking yet?, Does she still have that narwhal?

 There’s a chance that he might regret it, but there’s also a chance that he might not. 

 So he asks, “Do you want to come with me?” 

 ~~~ 

 However long Jeongguk said it takes to get to his ex-wife’s house, all those months ago, escapes you.

 But right now, it feels like 10 years and 10 minutes all at once. 

 It’s dramatic, yes, how terribly you’ve been fidgeting in the passenger seat of the Mercedes. Even Jeongguk’s big, warm hand petting at your knee can’t quell the nerves.

 It’s making the atmosphere tense, and you feel bad when Jeongguk sounds like he’s walking on eggshells when he tells you, “Thank you for coming with me, I’m really happy you did.”

 You feel even worse when you respond with, “I don’t think I want to go to the door with you.”

 The ever-soothing hand on your leg stutters for barely a second before continuing just as it was.

 “That’s totally fine,” he assures you, eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to, but if you change your mind, you can. It is your choice.”

 The hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly. 

 And it’s quiet for the rest of the drive. Until Jeongguk is pulling into an empty spot in the driveway of a very big, very nice house. Right next to a Porsche. 

 “Of fucking course.”

 “___.”

 “No, you’re right,” you say, raising your hands appeasingly, “You’re right, I shouldn’t even be surprised–”

 Jeongguk interrupts you with his hands on your cheeks and his lips on your. 

 “Shut.” He gives you one kiss. “Up.” He gives you two kiss.

 His affection makes the tension in your body dissipate and your shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”

 With his thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks, he gives you a small, understanding, patient smile. Then he asks if you’re sure about not coming to the door with him because he is stupid. 

 You tell him as much as you reiterate how you do not want to go to the door and this time, Jeongguk is the one raising his hands in surrender as he exits the car.

 Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

 Should you get out of the car? Wait inside? Should you have brought Nari a gift? Will she remember you? What if she doesn’t?

 When you hear a distant, familiar baby-giggle, you end up opening the door and standing between Jeongguk’s car and Dasom’s. You feel a little dumb until you hear the pitter patter of little feet on the brick driveway. 

 “I have a surprise for you Nana,” you hear Jeongguk sing cutely.

 And you hear Nari gasp excitedly in response, even cuter.

 As the pair get closer, you can see Jeongguk’s top half over the car, how his arm is swinging back and forth because of the tiny hand that’s holding his where you can’t see.

 Nari is dressed in a black jumper dress with a long-sleeved heart-patterned shirt on underneath when she pops out from behind the car and next to her dad. Kept warm from the slight chill in the air by her knitted tights and her teeny-tiny ugg boots. She’s still round, but she’s gotten taller and you coo softly to yourself.

 But Nari hears the little noise you make and when she sees you, she stops in her tracks. Her little bobble head looking between you and Jeongguk. Then she’s tugging on her dad’s pinky that she’s got a hold of.

 “___!” she says as she nods towards you, like she’s letting Jeongguk know that you’re right there. She sounds sure, almost a little bossy. Doesn’t stutter even a second to remember you. Kind of like she never forgot you. 

 “Ah– what’s with the nodding missy?” Jeongguk tuts, then he looks at you and shakes his head exasperated yet amused. 

 Nari has the nerve to giggle, a big girl no longer brought to tears by her daddy’s scoldings. She looks up at him grinning before she shrugs, like she doesn’t know what got into her. As she raises her little shoulders, her free hand comes up too for emphasis. And gripped tightly in her little hand is her stuffed narwhal. 

 You’re happy.

~~~~~~~~~

aaaaand SCENE. omg heyyyy long time no see girlfriends <3 i hope that u think this was worth the wait but am debilitatingly scared that it did not meet ur expectations so i am hiding <3 im sorry for how long it took but it is here now n that is all my tiny hands have to offer!!  i would love to know what u thought, so please do al the things: reblog, like, comment, send an ask~~ thank u for waiting for me and for reading ily muah :*

[malertop]

Poly! Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Male Reader pt.2

Warnings?: in part 3

Notes?: English is not my first language if you guys don't know,so I am SUPER sorry if it's bad.

Roles: Powerbottom!Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Sub!Top Male Reader

Kinks?: asshole being called boypussy,cunt,sloppy hole and more,fingering,handjob,blowjob,daddy kink,extreme sex,powerbottoms being extremely needy,eyes cross and roll will be mentioned, head roll and idk (some are for part 3)

The story in short: So let me get this quickly if you don't wanna read that,you were at Stu's party (not the killing one) and since they always left you alone after like just 10 minutes of hanging out with you you invited Randy for company,you have been ditching them sometimes for Randy and they tried to calm down and just forget about it but now that you are hanging out with him at Stu...YOUR BOYFRIEND party and ignoring Billy..WHO'S YOUR BOYFRIEND TOO they started getting really pissed about it,so they had a "little" talk with you and Randy and as their revenge for you ditching your boyfriends...WHO YOU TURNED GAY AND BI they needed to do and did an revenge on you..so you just took their little beautiful virginity,and they stole yours.

Gif:Not Mine.

"Hey guys what are you doing here all alone?" Randy got interrupted as he turned his head to look at who interrupted him,it was Billy and Stu who were walking towards them.You sighted as you saw them because you knew they would want something so you decided to ignore them as you looked back at Randy you already saw the two boys right beside him as Billy was opening new can of beer and Stu taking already a sip of his,as you quality told with your eyes to Randy to don't answer them which they saw because they looked at you when you did that which you didn't notice but Randy thought he should answer and said "Nothing we are just talking,or more Y/N but it's great to have a conversation with him" "Aw,thank you so much Randy..that was really nice and sweet" you answered with the sweet tone in your voice,but Billy and Stu just wanted to stab Randy until he dies,there was quite silence until Stu broke it "So...Randy ma men! Is it true that you still got a little thing for Sidney" Stu said as he smiled,You looked at Stu with his smile then you looked at Randy who was starting to sweat and then at Billy who just watched Randy with a death stare eyes,as you were about to speak up Randy answered "Y-Yeah...I mean...I guess..I..I do.." then Billy eyes winded and he took a look at Randy as he heard his answer, Stu did a giggle and laughed as he said "Did you really just admit it?In front of her boyfriend too!how can you be so pathetic,man you are so fucked up " and then you looked at Billy who was slowly approaching to meet Randy's face closer as he slowly moved "you know what else has a little thing for you..the door...so why don't you two meet and you get the.fuck.out" Billy siad slowly as he also threatened Randy,who now got up as you looked at him his body was all sweat and he didn't wanna leave you but he had no other choice "Y/N...I-i gotta go to the store but i completely forgot" he said as he was slowly leaving facing you "But-" as you were saying he ran off...there was a complete silence and you were the one to break it "why did y-" as you were saying Billy grabbed your arm and started started to lead you out of the kitchen,he was leading you upstairs as Stu was right behind you.He opened the door and as he entered he pushed you on the bed and he layed as Stu locked the door "Ow,what was that f-" as you were saying Billy pinned you against the bed and the wall and started kissing you right away,his kiss was slow but rought,your tounge met his as you two kissed and Stu was watching.Billy pulled away and then looked at his jeans because he felt something and he saw himself being turned on and then he slowly upped his head as looked at you again as you were breathing for some air but that quickly ended as Stu shoved his lips to meet yours

*After 20 minutes*

"Oh!Shit!Y-Y/N!~"Stu grunted as you were giving both of them hand jobs which they reached you just...well before 15 minutes to do,but Billy was silent as you were stroking both of the boys cocks,then Billy gasped "Oh!Oh shit!i am about to cum~" Billy said as he then grabbed male reader's arm to stop him,he was panting and then looked at the male reader and back at his arm as he slowly got an idea in his mind which made him smirk,Billy then looked again at male reader with his smirk and said "put your fingers inside me."

(Thank you for reading!if this hits 100 likes,reblogs or whatever I will do the last part,also I apologize for this being so short but i am writing this at school and yeah..HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY AND SEE YOU AT PART 3!)

[mur4qw]

NSFW HEADCANONS FOR JOHN DOE

!! If you're a minor please do not read this. 18+ ONLY !!

• well, this guy switch. he can be dominant, completely owning you, or he can be all submissive and begging only for you.

• most often he prefers to be a sub. he doesn't mind you fucking him at all. please make it rough. he will accept everything you give and more.

• he likes positions where he can see your face. Imagine what it’s like for him when you simultaneously choke him and ride him. I don’t even know how many times he will cum in this state...

• speaking of dick... he's a shapeshifter, so he likes to experiment...

• his pussy is wet and tight. he likes to rub it against your leg when he's on top of you.

• he also likes the feeling of being filled in both holes. please, he's so slutty when he's submissive.

• he'll love the idea of being recorded on video while you're having sex. the thought that you will and want to review this moment gives him a herd of goosebumps.

• humiliate him, praise him - he is greedy for it. tell him how much you love him and then call him your dirty slut.

• he has thing for spanking. spank him if he has done something wrong, although most likely it will not help and he will simply repeat his offense in order to be spanked again.

• he's not very good at dirty talk, but sometimes he says really slutty things that make your stomach turn.

• his tongue... it's very long. really long. he be eating your pussy like it's last thing in this world. the tongue is so long that its tip can reach the cervix.

• ohh, with his tongue he can do fucking things on your dick. he can pump it with his own tongue. and also he has no gag reflex, so just fuck his throat.

• he hates it when you think about watching porn or already turning it on. why do you need it when he is next to you? you can pour out all your innermost desires on him.

• pull his hair while you take him in doggy style. wrap them around your fist and pull them up - he go all desperate from this.

• oh, he's definitely not quiet. moans, sobs, pleas, screams and unconnected words - this will all happen during sex.

• he has nipples piercing. mhm. that's why he likes nipple play thing.

• pet play. put a collar on him and tell him that you're his master now. he's drooling, oops.

• well... let's move on to his dominant side. this doesn’t happen very often, but believe me, you will never forget these times.

• he's needy, whispering in a low voice in your ear how much he needs to be inside you. how much he need to feel your insides.

• he will make sure you are well prepared, he will never harm you, even if his dick is twitching and leaking pre-cum.

• he fucks harshly, trying to hit your sweet spot with every thrust so that he can enjoy your loud moans.

• he has THAT fucking stamina. he will fuck you everywhere: on the bed, on the sofa, against the wall, on the table. absolutely everywhere.

• during the process, he will bite your entire skin, leave hickeys, small scratches on your body - these are his traces. it shows that you are his.

• if you want him to fuck you, wear his jacket or shirt. trust me.

• by the way, he has no shame, so he can do truly vulgar and dirty things with the most innocent face possible.

• he is not against sex toys. but still, the thought that something other than him could be inside you bothers him a little. also, no toys will make him feel as good as your hands, tongue, mouth and cock/strap do.

he has no shame just like me, thanks for reading ~

[misshoneyimhome]

I apologize if this was requested already after reading last night's chapter i got inspired innocence kink + breeding kink + daddy kink jewelry fetish + cum play + slight degradation + overstimulation + hand kink + exhibitionist i don't know about the daddy kink but i'm down with professor nylander

Oh, I’ve missed Professor Nylander 🫦💦 he’s such a good one to work on when you’re in need of something extra naughty and filthy 😈 😏 

And babe, I don’t think anyone has ever requested all of this (at least not at the same time 😉) but it did give me a lot to work with 😊🤍 Though I did forget about the breeding kink... my apologies!

Still hope you enjoy it 🙏🏼

Warnings; 18+ smut; oral sex (m receiving); fingering; unprocted sex (p in v); dom/sub (ish); basically everything in the request ⬆️

Word count; 5.6K

[Prof!Willy x reader]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Please, excuse me I don't mean to be rude… But tonight I'm fuckin' you I William Nylander [AU] 🖋️⚡️💦

You just couldn't stop staring. The way his arm moved, his strong hand gripping the pen as he wrote on the board in the lecture hall had you completely captivated.

You were in your usual spot for Professor Nylander's class, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

It had been a few weeks since you'd had that little chat on the sofa, and though you hadn't talked about labels or anything further, what you knew was: a) neither of you were sleeping with anyone else, b) he'd shown jealousy when Josh Adams tried to flirt with you, and c) you didn't appreciate Angie Turner's attempts to come onto him.

And d) even though it was all kinds of wrong, you found yourself falling deeper into your relationship with Professor William Nylander.

In your mind, he was the most attractive man alive, and there was no one else for you. No one could compare to him, so all you could think was that you needed to get through the final months and exams, and then you could be together.

Well, if William was up for it, of course. You weren't entirely sure what was going on in his head. Every time you crossed paths, he kept it neutral and calm but when it was just the two of you, he could rock your world for hours.

And William was definitely skilled when it came to sex. The way his mouth worked on your sweet little tight core, could make your head spin. It was like he used magic when he added his fingers to the mix, curling them to hit your most sensitive spot and send you into overdrive.

Moreover, his member was nothing to be embarrassed about either. William had confidence, and you knew exactly why. Not just from his physical training as a child and teenager, aiming to become a professional hockey player before an ankle injury ended that dream. But also, from his skilled... well, everything. He was creative, to say the least. And to top it all off, his member had that slight curve to the right, hitting just the right spot over and over again.

However, your relationship had also slowly become more romantic and tender. Though you couldn’t go on public dates for obvious reasons, he had treated you to dinner a few times now, enjoyed at his place. Sometimes on the couch in front of the telly, which may or may not lead to passionate snogging sessions. And sometimes at the dining table, a romantic setting that may or may not end in a passionate encounter on the surface.

Alright, needless to say, your relationship was filled with raw and mind-blowing sex.

And today was no different.

As you watched him intently during the lesson, you had to stop yourself from biting your lip. His suit looked particularly sharp today, fitting nicely around his bum, and his rolled-up sleeves revealed his strong arms. He'd opted for dark grey trousers and a semi-loose white shirt, and you couldn't help but imagine how you'd unbutton it later.

Shaking your head to snap back to reality, you cleared your throat and refocused. Yet, as always, you felt a little tempted to stir things up, maybe ensuring you'd definitely get some action later. So, you sent him a text.

"Can’t wait to have those hands on me 🫦 you’re turning me on just by writing"

It wasn't anything too wild, but you knew it would provoke a reaction from William, and you couldn't wait to see how he'd respond.

**

You didn't feel sorry about what you’d done during the lecture. At least, not at first.

After the call, William had naturally invited you to join him for dinner, but that evening's meal turned out to be more than just a serving of Italian takeaway.

First things first were that he’d asked you to dress nicely - which you knew in his world meant something that was easy to discard and could/should include a skirt of a sort.  So naturally, you opted for another schoolgirl-like outfit; the “Hit me Baby one more time” era inspired look, just a tad more modern. 

You wore socks just below the knee, a red checkered skirt, a white blouse (no time for buttons), and your long-curled locks styled in a half-up 'do with space buns, giving it a cute, innocent vibe.

And William was left speechless when he saw you. His jaw almost dropped as he looked at your outfit and your cute smile. Did he maybe have a bit of a daddy kink? Perhaps, but he didn’t mind. He knew you were a mature adult, taking responsibility for your own actions, and your relationship was consensual. He trusted that you would speak up if you weren’t comfortable with these kinds of intimate actions with him, so he didn’t dwell too much on whether it was right or wrong.

Moreover, you didn’t complain either. Your professor wasn’t just attractive, but he was attentive too, ensuring all your needs were met and prioritising you first - something guys your age weren’t always too concerned about.

So, after the delicious dinner where you’d playfully re-enacted a scene akin to the lady and the tramp with the spaghetti, you found yourself swiftly in his lap, straddling him - not exactly ladylike.

Your tongues intertwined as you shared a deep, hungry kiss, his hands resting on your buttocks while yours were tangled in his hair. It was passionate and messy, your fingers lightly pulling on his locks as his hands squeezed your cheeks.

The urge to let your hips rock against him was irresistible, your pulsating core pressing against his slowly hardening member. But William stopped you. Sensing his trousers becoming tighter around his crotch, he pulled back, allowing you both to catch your breath.

“I’ve got something for you…” he murmured, his hands still holding onto you firmly.

“Mmm... I can feel that,” you teasingly remarked, allowing yourself to rock a few more times.

“Not just that, babe,” he chuckled lightly, before gently moving you off his lap and walking to the desk to retrieve a small black box. Returning to the sofa and sitting next to you once more, he opened it.

Inside was a white-gold necklace with two charms: one bearing a W, and the other a locker.

You were taken aback. Had he actually bought you a gift? Did that mean you were more to him than just a sexual partner?

Suddenly, you realised you were holding your breath. Snapping back to reality, you let out a deep breath and flashed him a smile.

“Wow, Willy... it’s incredibly beautiful,” you spoke softly. “But you didn’t have to do that…” You tried to act as if this wasn’t the sweetest thing any man had ever done for you, but you couldn’t contain your excitement.

“I know... but I wanted to... since we can’t be officially together, at least I could show you that I wanted more than just... sex,” he admitted softly, offering you a mix of a smile and a smirk. “It doesn’t have to mean anything special; I just thought it looked nice, and you deserve to be treated like a princess.”

His words were incredibly sweet, and you couldn’t help but let the smile spread across your face.

“Oh, Willy, I love it,” you replied, sincerely looking into his eyes.

“Well, then turn around.”

And without hesitation, you did. Lifting your hair, you allowed William to gently place the slightly cold piece of jewellery around your neck, followed by his lips tenderly planting a few butterfly kisses behind your ear.

However sweet and romantic the moment was, there was an undeniable sense of sincere commitment hanging in the air, alongside a mutual longing for each other.

And as William gently nipped your earlobe, he then growled deeply. “Now… where were we?”

You couldn’t help but gulp lightly as his voice sent shivers down your spine, a slight tingling occurring between your legs.

Then, very slowly, William let his large hand gently wrap around your neck, his mouth moving to the opposite side as he spoke huskily once again. “So, you want to feel my hands on you? You want me to touch you?” He asked rhetorically, referring to your naughty text from earlier.

With another gulp, you carefully nodded under his grip, a soft ‘mmm’ confirming his questions.

“Good girl…” he softly muttered, his praise sending signals straight to your eager core. “Then go to the bed and wait for instructions.”

And again, without hesitation, you immediately complied. Rising from your seat as William released his hold, you made your way to the bed and stood waiting, just as he had instructed.

You stood with your back to him, facing the king-size bed, as you heard him unbuckling his belt. And as he kept you waiting for a few more minutes, you assumed he’d undressed completely - and you were right.

As he drew nearer to you, you felt his bare chest against your back, his hands freely roaming your curves as he breathed near your hair.

“Take off your clothes and bend over,” he ordered simply. But as you slowly removed your blouse and bra, he stopped you. “Keep the skirt and socks on.”

And naturally, you obeyed. And as you stood with your arse exposed to him, hands resting on the bed for support, you once again felt his hands on you, sliding beneath the fabric of your skirt to find your underwear. With a quick motion, he pulled them down, allowing you to step out of them.

You tried to maintain your composure, but despite controlling your breath, you couldn't help but gasp as his thick fingers traced up your folds.

“Mmm… so wet for me, baby girl…”

William was thoroughly pleased with what he found, and as he continued to explore your flesh with his fingers, he relished in the soft moans he elicited from your lips. Occasionally touching your clit gently, he knew he was making you feel good, yet he didn’t give you everything right away. You had to earn it. Instead, he slowly inserted two fingers past your entrance, effortlessly stretching you.

You were dripping for him. And as he moved his fingers in and out of your core, you felt the pleasurable sensation that only he could bring. The way he curled his fingers upwards just right had him hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. And your eager moans conveyed nothing else but how much you were enjoying it.

The sound of your wet pussy echoed through the room as William picked up the pace, his other hand supporting your lower back as he noticed your legs trembling slightly.

You had to shut your eyes as the stimulation intensified, a knot forming in your stomach and your mind entering a foggy state. You sensed an impending orgasm approaching, knowing it wouldn’t be long if he kept this speed.

And William gladly persisted. Taking pleasure in the sight before him as he observed how responsive you were to him, with moans and deep breaths escaping you with each thrust, he then intensified his movements. Fingering you vigorously, he was intent on bringing you to climax, and he knew your body intimately, giving him the confidence to know just how to push you over the edge.

As his fingering sent waves of pleasure through your body, your moans grew louder, your hands gripping the bedsheets tightly. You were so close. Incoherent breaths escaped you as William drove you towards ecstasy, and finally, you felt the climax nearing.

“Mmm… oh, Willy… I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered quietly. And as he maintained the intense speed, William let you reach your peak, causing you to bow your head, moan out his name in a sensual scream, before having to take in deep breaths to recover.

It took almost a minute for you to come down from the high, and as you suddenly felt the absence of his fingers withdrawing from your pussy, you heard him chuckle darkly behind you. “Done already? Oh, baby girl, we’re just getting started.”

With those words, you realised the night had only just begun.

And it didn’t take long before William firmly grasped you, pushed you down onto your knees, and tapped your lips, signalling you to open your mouth. The ease with which he could slide his hard length into your warmth, pressing it deeper into your throat as you skilfully took him, left him thoroughly satisfied.

You were talented, he had to give you that. Working his shaft with both your mouth and hand to please him. Breathing through your nose, you did your utmost to show him just how skilled you were, while coating his shaft with saliva as he guided your head. Then pulling back to catch your breath while still stroking him, before eagerly taking him back in.

“Mmm, you're so good to me,” William moaned softly as he leaned his head back slightly, relishing in the pleasure you were giving him. His hand gripped tightly onto your hair, and as he felt his climax approaching, he wanted to pull away, not wanting to finish just yet. But you were making him feel too good to stop.

Rocking his hips slightly against your movements, he let himself succumb to the impending release. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum…” he warned. And by the time you pulled away to catch your breath, he looked down at you with intense eyes, gripping his member firmly as he eagerly stroked it. “Stick out your tongue.”

Once again, you obeyed his command. Then, with a deep grunt and his eyes rolling back in his head, William released himself all over your mouth, chin, and cheek. He painted your face like a canvas, marking you as his own.

And as he slowly opened his eyes, coming down from the high, he admired his handiwork. While you remained in position, he gently ran his thumb over your lips, delicately playing with his own cum as he enjoyed the sight of you on your knees.

“My little cum slut…” he murmured as he smeared some of the stickiness onto your lips for you to taste.

“Mmm…” you hummed as you gently sucked his thumb, then licked your lips to savour more of him.

It was intensely arousing for him to watch, but he was still eager to feel himself inside your warmth. And being the gentleman he was, he allowed you a moment to wipe your face before pulling you onto the bed, pressing you down as he pinned your hands on either side of your head.

Your core was still tingling from the first orgasm, but William was also still hard, craving for more, so he didn’t give you any time to rest. With a forceful thrust, he easily slipped his cock into your cunt, and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips.

William fucked you deeply, almost reaching places you hadn't known existed, sending your mind spinning with pleasure.

And as he repeatedly hit your sweet spot, he couldn't help but grin at the loud, uninhibited moans he was eliciting from you, which only spurred him on to increase his thrusts.

His grip around your wrists tightened as he pounded into you, his length stimulating your walls with every thrust. It was almost overwhelming for you to handle. William was relentless. His self-control waned as your pussy felt so good wrapped around his cock, and his sole mission was to push you over the edge.

And he was succeeding. You could feel another orgasm building within you, your mind clouded as you were filled inside and stimulated in your core.

“Mmm, fuck, Willy… I’m gonna cum…” you whispered in a soft cry, your eyes rolling back as he pushed you closer.

“That’s it, cum for me, baby… show me what a good slut you are for me…”

And that was all it took for you to arch your back beneath him, your walls tightening around his member as you let the ecstasy take over once more. It was intense. His dominant demeanour was overwhelming, and as you embraced your role as his good girl, you simply tried to take him so well.

Then as you began to come down from the high, William admired you, revelling in how he could make you feel. Releasing your hands and sitting back, he couldn't help but gaze at the necklace he'd given you, a symbol of your relationship's deep connection, trust, and comfort.

However, the tender moment was short-lived as he withdrew his length, took a firm hold of you, and spun you around onto your hands and knees. Which was undoubtedly his favourite position. It gave him ultimate power to thrust deeply and vigorously, while also providing you with incredible sensations.

He then gave your cheek a firm spank, eliciting a little squeak from you before plunging back into your core.

“Shit…” you muttered as he swiftly increased his pace, once again stimulating you deeply with rapid and forceful thrusts, just as he knew you liked it.

But it was too much. His hips pounded harder and harder against your bum, surely leaving a reddened mark. And as his fingers dug into your hips, you felt your cunt dripping with juices, trailing down the inside of your thigh. You cried out loud with every thrust, feeling like nothing more than a piece of meat for his pleasure.

But it was all part of the role play. As your mind turned to mush, your vision blurred, and your fingers clenched the sheets, you allowed yourself to edge closer to another climax. The impending orgasm forming as William rapidly moved his cock in and out, overstimulating your walls.

“Willy… Mmm… I can’t…” you cried out as your body started to feel numb and spent from his vigorous fucking.

“What's that?” he spoke, still thrusting at the same intense speed. “Can't handle me, baby? Not being a good little slut for me?”

But you couldn't form a coherent response. Instead, you moaned and whimpered as he delivered another hard spank to your ass, leaving it a solid red hue. Then, he moved his hand to your neck once more, his other hand finding your lower abdomen as he firmly pulled you up and held you against his chest.

His pace slowed slightly in the new position, allowing you to catch your breath, yet his firm grip remained thrilling and dominant. And as he growled once more in your ear, you couldn’t help but gasp.

“Hmm… I know you're a good girl… my little princess,” his deep voice echoed in your ear, his hand maintaining a firm grip around your throat without restricting your airways. “Your cunt is made for me…” He then moved his hand slightly to touch the necklace... “And you belong to me… you’re mine.”

His words were like a spell as he spoke huskily. And with his cock deeply buried inside you, thrusting hard and deep, you couldn’t help but surrender to him once more.

“I’m yours…”

And as if those were the magic words, William pounded vigorously a few more times before allowing you to reach your final climax, your muscles tightening around him, causing him to release himself into you. He let out a deep grunt as he spilled his cum, painting your walls just as he had your face. Then, gently releasing his hold on you, he guided you back to support yourself on the mattress.

Your head hung low as you gasped for air, your mind still fuzzy as you slowly opened your eyes. Then you heard William chuckle darkly behind you as he slowly withdrew his cock and spread your cheeks apart.

“Mmm… show me how good of a cum slut you are…”

He watched your pussy intently, relishing the sight of his dripping cum from your core. Then, delicately, he used a finger to glide through your sensitive folds, eliciting another light gasp from you. He then picked up some of his fluids and traced it up your cheeks, over your butthole, and to your lower back.

The air hung heavy as you both needed to calm down and return to reality. And when William had finished playing with his cum and marking you as his own, he broke the comfortable silence.

“Come on, baby, I think you need a shower.”

It was an unspoken way of returning to the romantic relationship that had developed between you, away from the dom/sub role play. William's attentive and mature nature made him a wonderful and caring person, ensuring you didn't actually feel like a slut, despite the names he used during your most intense moments.

And as he held you close under the water, you felt nothing but comfort and solace in his embrace. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder something.

“So… the necklace, Willy,” you smoothly turned in his arms and gazed up at him. “Does that mean… we’re exclusive?”

Your voice almost trembled as you asked. You didn’t want to seem needy or anything of the sort, but you needed confirmation. And William simply smiled as he locked eyes with you, his thumb tracing over your lower lip as he considered how to articulate his response.

And with a gentle nod, he conveyed his thoughts. “Yes, baby… we’re exclusive.

[mrsmothmom]

I recently had to deal with some horrible people invading my stream with them saying some not so nice things to me and about others.

I’m still fresh and new to streaming and don’t have mods. How am I supposed to combat this?

buckle up

if you're a streamer reading this, and you have a tip that i haven't mentioned here, please feel free to reblog and add on~

how to deal with assholes

part 1: you are the dad of this rodeo

never forget the most important part of streaming. you are in control. you turn the stream on, you turn it off. you have all the power.

with that out of the way, let's talk about chat moderation.

part 2: a viewer is never more valuable then your time

when new streamers encounter people who are kinda mean, they sometimes feel like they have to put up with it because no one else is watching. this is incorrect.

you do not have to put up with anything - this is your stream and this is your community (even if that community is just you for now). tell mean people to be cool or move on. that is always your right.

part 3: ban them

if someone comes into your stream and makes you and your community uncomfortable, ban them. ask questions, think deeply, feel feelings about it later.

when you ban them, their messages for the last while will go away. they can appeal later and cry about it on their own time. if you ban by mistake, simply unban them and apologize. nice people who enjoy your stream will understand. rude people who don't care about you will be a problem about it. you don't want people in category 2 in your stream anyway.

part 4: what you react to is what you get

the bigger your reaction to something, the more of it you will receive. twitch is all about reactions (just ask xQc).

therefore if people are being mean, they are doing it to see you react. they want evidence that the bullying is working. therefore...

do not let them see you sad

do not let them see you mad

do not let them see you cry

do not argue

do not negotiate

the best reaction you can have to a group of rowdy bullies is the stone-faced enforcement of your power.

part 5: what to do, step by step

in the event that your stream is overtaken by a whole group of assholes (maybe just some bullies, maybe a hate raid), i encourage you to take the following steps:

stop, take a deep breath. all problems are solvable, and all disasters recoverable. do not let panic take over

go on break and mute your mic. don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you upset (the more overwhelming the attack, the more abrupt your break should be - don't bother explaining why you're leaving. if you have time to say anything at all, say that you'll be back in a moment and nothing else)

put chat in emote only mode

put chat is sub only mode

if you can, run some ads (if they're gonna be assholes, you might as well get paid)

if there are an actionable number of people causing the problem (read less than 30 or so), ban them by hand now. you can do more advanced clean up later if you need to. if it's too many to ban, you've gotta end the stream.

once the folks have been cleared out, get back on stream, apologize to your real viewers for the interruption, restore chat and continue on your way. don't bother giving air time to assholes. when it's over, it's over.

if you are too upset to continue stream, don't.

if you use a stream bot, stream deck, or alternative (touch portal, deckboard, etc), you can set many of these actions to a button that you can press to automatically go into SOS mode. i strongly recommend this.

part 6: aftermath

your community will move on as soon as you do. take a moment to calm down, decompress, and remember that those people don't know you and their opinion means nothing. don't let the community dwell on it - that is what they want, for you to be sad for as long as possible.

if you've got a whole ton of bots clogging up your followers, use commander roots tools to clear them out:

part 7: prevention

prevent known bots and assholes from crawling into your stream by using commander roots tools (to pre-ban folks) and sery_bot:

part 8: other security measures

never stream live from a public (as is people you don't bring in can appear) discord channel. if you are live, make sure you have total control over what appears on stream

never click links without checking them off-live first. what your friend thinks is harmless fun might be ban-able by twitch TOS

avoid streaming your entire desktop

people are not entitled to everything they want right when they want it (NO MATTER HOW MUCH MONEY THEY GIVE YOU). people who care about you will wait until your ready and willing do say / do / answer / preform etc. etc.

set community rules and hold everyone and yourself to them.

put disclaimers on links to gift / donate / tip you saying that everything is considered a gift and is non refundable or exchangeable.

part 9 (FINAL): respect yourself

it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks is ok. all that matters is that you feel safe and comfortable. remember:

hit them with the biggest hammer you have, and never look back.

i hope this is helpful. godspeed.

[bubblewonderabyss]

When/if the tADC cast is shown in human form, I really hope they don't visually resemble their avatars, for a few reasons -The program forces them to forget their own names, clearly anonymity was a priority here -The avatars are clearly reflecting their personalities, not their physical bodies -It's such an overdone and frankly kind of lazy trope in the trapped-in-a-video-game genre, I'm tired of it

(Nothing against those who do draw them that way of course, it's just not my preference)

And since I hate complaining without offering an alternative, here's my (PROBABLY WILDLY INCORRECT) speculation on what they might have been like when they were human under the cut

(cw: self harm, animal death)

Pomni -Had long blonde hair which she wore down, she would have preferred it short but [insert loved one here] loved it, so long it was. Also doubled as a convenient curtain when she was outwardly freaking out -On the skinny side, flat as a board even, strong legs though -Well dressed in an understated way, she didn't like to stand out -Was really into gymnastics as a kid, moved onto jogging once she got older and busier -Ate a lot of neon colored tv dinners/poptarts/fast food as a kid, avoided it like the plague in her teen years and beyond because "it's gross" -Had a rabbit once, but it escaped and what was left of it was found in her back yard a week later, she never had the heart to get another pet after that -Part of a friend group, but didn't hang out with most of them individually -Watched American Idol religiously

Gangle -Chubby and really tall, yet always felt small, so her posture was really bad -Either lived with her parents or spent most of her time holed up in her apartment, didn't get much sunlight either way -Dressed modestly to cover up some self inflicted scars -Anime was not really part of the western cultural consciousness in the late 90's, most people assumed it was either just kid stuff or just porn, so she probably didn't have many friends outside of a few fellow anime fans -Very quiet and withdrawn but could talk for hours about her new favorite anime (and yes, she preferred subs to dubs) -Loved trying different kinds of snacks -Her keys had a shit ton of keychains and charms attached -Drew a lot and kept it all in a big binder

Zooble -Kinda short -Exceptionally good posture -Moved around a lot as a kid, their favorite place was an apartment one block off from a park where they met their best friend -Alt fashion sense (mostly hand me down clothes so they had to get creative anyway) with a preference for button up shirts -Socks MUST match, down to the brand -Mall crawler, but rarely bought anything -Bead collection -Read so many sci fi books

Kinger -Dad bod -Could see fine but kept his reading glasses in the front pocket of his (usually hawaiian, sometimes plaid) shirt at all times -Was something of a chess and checkers legend at his local library, the "I bet you can't beat that guy" guy. Would let his opponent win if they seemed like they were really stressing about it though -Big nature guy, went hiking or camping once every couple weeks at least -Had a pottery kiln in his garage -Met his wife at a movie theater and movies were the go-to date night ever since

Ragatha -Average proportions, other than being slightly 'blessed in the chest' -Her least favorite season was summer, because she couldn't wear her sweaters then -Her parents loved her but were on the strict side -Most of her disposable income went to her porcelain doll collection, which she hid from friends and family because "it's creepy" -Didn't realize wanting to kiss girls wasn't a universal experience for the longest time -Had a busy social life, was rarely home because she always had someone to see and somewhere to be -Dated around a lot but never settled down with anybody -Was big into fantasy stuff, especially the renaissance faire

Jax -Average proportions, like imagine a Normal Guy (non-hollywood version) he looked like that -Dyed his hair an unnatural color like green or pink -Struggled with an eating disorder, less because he hated how he looked (though he might have) and more to assert control in a life where he had very little -Wore band shirts of bands he didn't listen to as a little private joke. His actual music taste leaned more classical but he wouldn't tell a soul about that -Quite friendly and social, but couldn't maintain more than a couple close friendships at a time -Loved baseball -Watched every horror movie he could get his hands on

[pendragon-writes]

Honey Ceilings and Stranglers

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Steven was tidying up the room he was to be staying in for the next few weeks, placing his two alarm clocks next to the bed to wake him up the next morning so that he wouldn't forget. He also placed his books on Egyptology. As he exited the bathroom with a garbage bag he felt something drip onto his shoulder, looking up he realized the substance was honey. He decided to check out what was the cause of the leak by heading upstairs to the roof, where he saw (Y/n) sitting in front of some bee combs, a lamp illuminating it as the city of New York made itself present with its noise. 

"Um, are you aware that honey is dripping through the ceiling?" He asked (Y/n), now taking notice of the bee hives that had a transparent wall showcasing all the bees inside. "Yes. Happens sometimes." He replied. "I take it beekeeping is a hobby," Steven said, looking a bit closer at the hive but not too close. "I'm writing a book. Practical Handbook of Bee Culture with Some Observations Upon the Segregation of the Queen." Steven looked at him with confusion. (Y/n) pointed to his head. "Up here. I've just started Chapter 19. Would you like to hear the last few paragraphs?"

"Did you talk to the police about that scary administrator guy?" Steven asked, wrapping his arms around himself to keep his body warm. "I have not." He admitted. "But I thought that.." Steven started but was disrupted by the other man. "Mr. Polk is a prat, no doubt, but his body language said 'sub, not 'dom'," (Y/n) explained, sitting up from his chair and turning to Steven. "I don't see him having the backbone to take another life." Steven thought to himself after hearing that before looking back at the bees. "Why do you suppose you hate your job so much?" (Y/n) asked. Steven shrugged before answering. "I don't hate my job." 

"You have two alarm clocks." (Y/n) stated. "No one with two alarm clocks loves their job." "Two alarm clocks means it's a chore for you to get up in the morning." He said as he looked at Steven. "You don't hate what I do, though." "That much was obvious when we talked to Mr. Polk." Steven blinked at (Y/n) as he let him continue. "There was a look on your face." "I imagine it was the same look you wore to the O.R. when you were still a surgeon." "You're wrong," Steven said with slight amusement. 

"I know my father secured your services for the next six weeks?" He asked, wanting to be sure he was correct. To which Steven nodded. "The simple truth is, I don't need you." He said to Steven. "I'm finished with drugs. I won't be using them again." The wind slightly increased, not too much but enough to slightly sway Steven's hair. "My advice? Take a six-week holiday." He said with a light smile. "I promise I won't tell Papa." He finished leaning slightly toward Steven before walking past him, back into the warmth of his house. Steven continued to stand there for a couple of moments to ponder what (Y/n) said before heading inside and going to his temporary bed.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

The next day came the sun shined brightly against the window, lighting up the room. Steven turned around on the bed, turning his head towards the window to look at his clock. When he fully turned around and rubbed his eye he realized his alarm clock was no longer plugged in. This greatly alarmed the man as he stood up and walked over to his other clock. When he got to the other clock he realized the batteries were removed entirely. He walked to grab his phone and saw a text that read 'Police Station', which he got from his client, (Y/n) Holmes. He sighed at this and decided to get ready to leave.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

Steven walked into the Station, passing by a police officer as he stopped at the gated door where (Y/n) was on the other side, looking through a file. "I'm going to need your saliva now." He said sternly. (Y/n) turned around with a bit of a jump in his chair, face showing slight amusement. He checked his watch before turning to Steven once more. "10;37. I take back everything I said last night. You obviously love your job." Steven went through his messenger bag to look for the kit to do the saliva test with. "Couldn't wait to get started this morning." (Y/n) finished, standing up from the chair and walking to him, opening the door to let the man in.

Steven walked into the cramped room and stood next to the table, looking at (Y/n). "Open your mouth so I can swab it. If you're on anything, the strip on this cup will turn blue." Steven explained. "I have a-" (Y/n) started, before being interrupted by Steven swabbing his mouth. "I have a new theory about our killer." (Y/n) said, watching Steven put the swabbing stick into the cup. "I think he may have struck at least once before." "I--- who love what I do-- woke up early and couldn't stop thinking about the ring box he stole from Amy Dampier's living room." (Y/n) said. Steven in return only gave him a stern look, looking at his watch before shaking the cup. "You said it was some sort of trophy." Steven reminded. 

"And you know what flavor of killers takes trophies, don't you?" (Y/n) said. Steven just looked at him but didn't answer. "Serial. Souvenirs help them differentiate between victims." (Y/n) answered for him. "It occurred to me that if Amy wasn't our killer's first, though, there might be other cases in common." The consultant briefly looked through the papers and photos before grabbing the photo of a women's bruised neck. "Eileen Renfro." He said, holding up the photo to Steven. "Savagely beaten and strangled by an intruder in her Bronx home two years ago." "He took a jewelry box on his way out, but left behind a size 11 footprint." Steven continued to look at the drug test before looking at (Y/n) when he saw the results were negative. "Drug-free. Congratulations."

"Especially striking-- the physical similarities between her and Amy." (Y/n) said. "Both were curvaceous with long red hair." Steven looked down at the photo before looking at (Y/n). "You think the killer has a type?" He asked. "The one significant differences in the cases... Eileen Renfro survived her attack." 

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"I'm sorry," Eileen said, looking at the photo in front of her. "I can see why you think it might be the same guy." She turned to look at Steven before looking at (Y/n). "I just don't think I can help you." "We know from the police report that the man who assaulted you wore a mask." (Y/n) said, standing across from Eileen and Steven, hands resting on the chair in front of him. "That doesn't mean you can't help us identify him." "Did he say anything to you?" (Y/n) asked. Eileen said no and shook her head. "I came in through my front door, and he was just... there." "Did he have a particular scent?" (Y/n) asked. "Uh... I don't think so." She said a bit confused by the question. "Was he tall, short, somewhere in between?" Steven looked at (Y/n) before looking at Eileen as she responded. "I don't know. I mean, he was on top of me so quickly, his hands were around my throat." She said, messing with the crucifix necklace she was wearing. "And what about the mask?" He asked. "What about it?" She asked, her tone slightly aggravated as she fidgeted with her crucifix necklace. "Was it ski, Mexican wrestling, paper plate?" "Ski." She said. 

"Good. Excellent." He said, walking towards Eileen. "So, you got a good look at his eyes." (Y/n) said, kneeling down in front of the woman. "Oh, correct me if I'm wrong but a-a strangler can, literally, not be more than an arm's length from his stranglee, can he? That's what? Two?" He said, positioning his arms to the one of a strangler. "Mr. Holmes." Steven tried to interrupt, but couldn't as the said man continued to talk. "I'm twice that distance from you now. I can see that your eyes are a lovely brown." Eileen licked her lips in nervousness before replying. "I think I'd like you to leave now." 

"Why? 'Cause I know that you're lying?" (Y/n) asked, resting his hands on his knees. "Mr. Holmes!" Steven said in a scolding tone. "No. She is." (Y/n) stated, before pointing to her crucifix necklace. "You can tell by the crucifix. You fiddle with it every time I ask you a question." "It's-it's a pacifying behavior." "It's just elementary haptic communication." "Just read a book, would you?" he said in a harsher tone to Steven. "She did see her attacker's face." "(Y/n)!" Steven yelled but was ignored as (Y/n) continued to talk. "I think she might even know who he is!"

"Get out," Eileen said in a quiet yet angry manner. "You realize that because you protected him two years ago, you have the blood of an innocent woman on your hands, don't you?" (Y/n) said. "Perhaps you'd like to go for two or three or four." This statement made Steven stand up in anger as he yelled at (Y/n). "That's enough!" (Y/n) looked up at Steven in light shock. "You're done here. Go wait in the car." Steven ordered. (Y/n) stood up from his crouching position and exited Eileen's house. 

Steven sat back down on the chair once he was out of the house. "What a jerk!" Eileen said. "I'm... I'm really sorry about that." Steven started, his tone softer. Eileen looked at him before smacking her lips and looking at her lap.

Once a few minutes passed Steven walked back to the car where (Y/n) was leaning against, arms crossed over his chest, a small pout on his lips. "The name of the man who attacked her is Peter Saldua," Steven announced, going to (Y/n)'s side to lean against the car. "He was her brother's best friend growing up. His father was abusive, so her parents took him in his senior year of high school." He explained to the pouting man. "Eileen heard from her brother he works for a florist in Chelsea." (Y/n) smirked slightly at this newfound information.

"I knew it. I knew that if I started a row in there, you'd come to her defense, and if you came to her defense, she might very well tell you the truth." Once hearing this Steven stopped leaning against the car to fully look at him. "You are so full of it." In response to that he gave him a 'Me? Never' look as he called Captain Gregson. "Captain Gregson this is (Y/n) Holmes, I'm calling because I believe I've uncovered the name of a strong suspect," He turned to face Steven before continuing. "In the murder of Amy Dampier."

"The name wouldn't be Peter Saldua by any chance, would it?" The captain asked over the phone, behind him was a detective looking at the walls. "How did you know?" (Y/n) asked. "'Cause I'm at his house and I'm looking at him right now," Gregson informed. "Are you saying he's in police custody?" He asked in confusion. "Technically, yeah." Gregson said, looking down at the dead Peter Saldua, his head bleeding and a gun held limply in his hand. "He's all ours."

Taglist: @god-complex-12

[jeannedarkterraguard]

HoloAdvent Debut Reactions

So we're finally getting another HoloEN generation and Lisa and I decided to fuck up our sleep schedule (I mean not that there's gonna be much of a sleep schedule left once BG3 comes out next week) to watch the Debuts live and I'm gonna write down my thoughts about them so lets get to it...

first up Shiori Novella

-this loading screen is somehow comfy and spooky at the same time... weird

-wow... not the voice i was expecting from that model

-"Age: eye-don't-know"... oh god we have another Ina

-well that was... certainly a story...

-i literally never heard of any of these books... but to be fair i only ever read like 15 books if you don't count the ones that i was forced to read in school

-hey, i recognize some of these cartoons... well i recognize blues clues... and I've heard of courage and south park

-so she likes harvest moon huh

-i also don't recognize any of her husbandos, anime or games... am i old or are these just very niche (I'm old... the answer is I'm old)

-eating with scissors... why?

-story-driven games... that's interesting could we finally have another Kiara?

-would you look at that... my phone finally got the notification that her debut stream is starting... thanks YouTube...

-Lisa: "oh god she dresses like me when i was 16"

Me: "well, let's be real you tried that for like a week before you decided it was too much work and went back to wearing sweatpants and t-shirts"

-everything at 9pm CST... sometimes i hate living in Europe...

Koseki Bijou

-so will Shiori do the intros for all of them?

-she already sounds like a gremlin

-okay, cool little animation

-140cm? So we continue the tradition of every hololive member being short...

-dislikes mushrooms... i can relate

-what the fuck is interactive food?

-oh ok she means annoying food...

-man i really have no idea what any of these anime are... then again i haven't watched any anime that hasn't aired on TV here in Germany... and we only really got the absolute most popular ones like one piece, dragon ball and naruto...

-long streams... by what metric? Kiara long or Kaela long?

-oh 3+ hours... that's... just regular hololive numbers

-play as herself... pretty sure holocure will take care of that

-okay I'll admit it... i don't get this joke... are gems one of these things that people want to eat despite them being non-edible like cattails or sea-foam?

-interesting segment...

-those times are not better... why can't we have someone in hololive stream at European times?

So those two were pretty fun now back to sleep and then the other two Debuts tomorrow...

Nerissa Ravencroft

-okay I like her voice

-is it just me or can her model turn around pretty far compared to other vtubers... it almost seems like that already is a 3d model

-175cm... we have a new tallEST Hologirl... we still don't have a TALL Hologirl...

-pepperoni + pineapple pizza... i'm okay with either of those on its own but not both of them together you should never mix savoury, sweet, sour AND spicy (wait I just remembered americans mean salami when they say pepperoni... that's fine)

-doesn't like underwear... artist are gonna have a field day with this...

-doesn't like mushrooms... likes Zelda, Mario, FF7... she's quickly becoming my favourite

-she's also the first one where I know at least two of her favourite anime, Naruto and sailor moon

-i mean who doesn't like binge watching (if I have to wait a week for the next episode I will forget what happened in the last one)

-500.000 subs... well she's already halfway there...

-ah Keffiy-papa should have known

-aaaand there it is... 7 pm CST...

The Twins

-not sure about these overly cute voices

-okay maybe it's the sleep deprivation but i'm having a hard time following what they're talking about

-fuwa likes cute girls... I can relate...

-mococo also likes cute girls... oh and black licorice... again I can relate

-IT'S THE BGM! THE BGM IS TOO LOUD! That's why I can't understand them...

-okay what's a pon-de-ring?

-nice song... but that's all I can really say about that... i'm not really a big music girl

-wait 16:00 GMT... that's... almost a good european time... no wait that's just their morning streams not their main ones... Fuck

Well that was fun. Out of all five girls I think nerissa is my favourite but we'll see how that works out in the future... kinda hard to tell in just 45 minutes... anyway i'll need to get ready for work now so I can't write anything more detailed...

bye

[sgrdoll]

Tranquility - Chapter 4

Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

warnings - murder, death, drugs, mafia/gang talk, extremely detailed scenes of torture and death, dark!reader, dark!steve, dom/sub undertones, dom!steve, sub!reader, brat!reader, knives, guns, other weapons, EXTREME GORE

THIS IS A DARK FIC. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. THIS IS EXTREMELY GRAPHIC PLEASE TAKE INTO ACCOUNT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH FIRST

18+

apologies for the wait! this is a very steve-centric chapter. also i am not the best a writing but i really love this story and i hope you do too. enjoy dolls!!

wc: 3.87k

A few days had passed since Steve and Charlie welcomed Ruby the cat into the house. She was getting settled nicely and had taken to sleeping next to Charlie at night. Charlie adored the fluffy white cat and Ruby had brought Steve and her closer together.

Steve would always go to Charlie’s room to ‘check on Ruby’. They both knew he came to see if Charlie was okay before bed but pretended otherwise. 

Steve would sit on Charlie’s king sized bed and pet Ruby while Charlie sat cross legged on a plush gray chair in the corner of the room. Steve loved to watch Charlie be so relaxed and comfortable in her own space. She always had a book in her left hand and a hot cup of tea in her right. It had become a night time ritual for Steve to bring his laptop into her bedroom to do some work while she read some sort of horror novel. They sat in silence but having one another’s presence made them both feel warm and cozy. They both felt their emotions for one another grow exponentially. It wasn’t exactly romantic either, they just cared so immensely deeply for each other. 

Sometimes, it was enough for Steve to forget that he watched Charlie kill a man. He looked up at her small frame, curled up under a blanket with a Stephen King novel. This woman was not a murderer. Her looks were so very deceiving. 

He watched her eyes flutter shut, the book quickly forgotten. He sighed and spread her blanket around her a bit better and bookmarked her page. 

Steve turned off the lights and grabbed his things and went to his own office. His luxury office with a gorgeous fireplace that he decided he hated once he found out he could do his work sitting next to you. 

Steve looked over his computer and sent an email out to his assistant, Peter, to schedule a dinner for tomorrow night with Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes was a world renowned real estate agent. His business was just a front for money laundering and counterfeit bills. Which is exactly why Steve needed his endorsement for his business. 

Steve was the CEO of Pharmaceutical company. He had representatives go around the country and sell different types of prescription medicines to hospitals. He actually did a lot of good in the world, however he also used this business to cover up the fact he was the owner of a murder for hire business. People that needed someone dead came to Steve and he sent someone out to the job. Some people crossed him and didn't pay up, which is how some end up in his basement with Charlie.

Bucky’s endorsement could be important, Bucky’s clients could also be Steve’s clients since there was virtually zero overlap between their two businesses. 

Hopefully dinner goes well enough that he is interested in striking up a deal with Steve. Steve also wanted Charlie to be there for dinner with the both of them.

Charlie was obviously gorgeous. Her long blonde hair and striking blue eyes coupled with her full lips was enough to send any man onto their knees. It might be good to send her into the arms of another man, maybe it would get her out of Steve’s head. Right now, she was all he thought about. 

He knew if she asked him to flirt with Bucky so Steve could get his approval she would. That was his favorite thing about Charlie, she was so willing to please. 

Steve ran a large hand through his hair and leaned against the leather of his office chair. He had a lot of stuff to do in preparation for dinner tomorrow. 

For a few more hours he pushed through work before abruptly shutting his laptop and going to his bedroom. 

He laid down in bed after his shower and stared at his ceiling. He wanted to go to bed so bad but thoughts of the pretty girl in the room next door plagued him. 

Steve finally drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep.

 Charlie woke up before Steve, which was incredibly rare. She was much more comfortable in the house than she used to be. She kept on her oversized shirt and chunky glasses as she walked down the stairs in search of coffee and something to eat. 

While the coffee brewed (she had switched to hot since the fall was approaching), she fed Ruby. The white cat walked around her feet with small mewls while Charlie prepared her wet food. 

It was only 7 and Cynthia didn’t come in until 9 a.m. today. Which was very unfortunate considering that Cynthia made the most heavenly smoothie bowls. Charlie settled for a bagel with cream cheese and her black coffee. She suddenly wished she had brought her book down now that she was sitting at the table with nothing to do. Steve had gotten her a phone a few days before but she found it dreadfully boring. There was hardly anything to do on it other than watch TV, which she could do on an actual TV. 

Charlie ate her bagel in boring silence until the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs perked her up. 

Steve came down with messy morning hair and gray sweatpants on. He was shirtless and his body was insane. Charlie wasn’t oblivious, she knew that Steve Rogers was hot. He was tall and had the body of a god. 

“I left some coffee in the pot for you,” Charlie said while setting her bagel back on her plate. 

“Thank you, love. I have something to talk to you about,” Steve scratched the back of his head and poured his coffee into a mug that said mean muggin with a frowning cartoon sunshine on it. 

“What is it?” Charlie can’t say this didn’t panic her. Hearing those words were definitely anxiety inducing, especially coming from Steve. 

“It’s nothing bad,” he said quickly which calmed her nerves, “I’m just having a dinner party of sorts tonight and I need you to be here.” 

Charlie visibly relaxed, “Oh, of course. Will there be a lot of people there?”

“I may have exaggerated the word party. It will just be an important friend of mine coming. He owns a real estate business and I really need him to agree to a partnership with me.” 

“Who is it?” 

“It’s Bucky Barnes. He’s a very important man in my world and I need you to be on your absolute best behavior tonight. He is extremely vital to the future of my business.”

“I promise, I’ll be so good,” Charlie vowed. 

Steve smiled at her, “I also think you could maybe flirt with him a bit? It doesn’t have to be much, just entertain him. If you aren’t comfortable with that, tell me.” 

Charlie thought for a moment, she would do anything to prove her worth to Steve. Flirting wouldn’t be too hard of a task for her either. However, it did hurt a bit that Steve wanted to see her flirting with another man. She knew he would likely never share any romantic feelings for her but it still stung. 

“I’ll do it.” 

The way Charlie said it had a sense of finality to it. Steve just gave her a nod and sat next to her. 

“I wish Cynthia was here,” Steve groaned. Charlie laughed, “I thought the same thing when I was toasting this bagel.” 

They both made small talk until they finished breakfast. Conversation had begun flowing easily between them recently and they were learning a lot about one another. 

“What do you have planned for today?” Steve asked while taking a drink out of his mug. 

“I’m probably going to read for a while and then watch The Vampire Diaries until I have to get ready for tonight. What time is the dinner going to be?” 

“Probably around 7. It’ll also last for a pretty long time and there is a chance he brings a few of his men and if that’s the case Sam and Bruce will also be here tonight.” Charlie nodded while picking up her mug, “What should I wear tonight?”

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, just know I will be in a suit and tie as will Bucky.” 

“I’ll show you what I plan to wear before he gets here,” Charlie answered while walking up the stairs. 

“Don’t stay cooped up in your room too long! At least go out on the balcony for a bit,” Steve called after her as she walked up the stairs. Charlie just rolled her eyes and went to her room. Ruby followed behind her and jumped up on her huge cat tower that sat in the corner of Charlie’s room. Charlie sat her mug down on the table that stood next to her chair. 

The soft gray chair was her favorite addition to her bedroom, it was so nice to read in. She got comfortable and opened up Firestarter. 

Charlie killed most of the day in that position with Ruby coming up to visit her every few hours. She stood up and stretched and checked her phone for the time. It was barely noon. Charlie decided she needed at least a little physical activity before lunch. As much as she hated to admit it, Steve was right, staying cooped up in her room all day was not entirely healthy. 

Steve had a home gym in the house that Charlie had grown to love. She wasn’t doing anything extremely athletic or anything, she would just run on the treadmill while watching TV on the big screen in the room. 

Charlie changed into a black sports bra and black leggings. She threw her hair up into a ponytail and walked down to the first floor where the gym was. 

Steve was already lifting weights in a Brooklyn Nets hat and black shorts when Charlie was about to walk. Sweat dripped down his perfectly tan chest and he breathed heavily. Charlie ogled him and he noticed her stare in the mirror he was looking in. She stood in the doorway, hesitant to come in when he was looking this handsome. 

He smirked but didn’t acknowledge her presence, he just lifted the 50lb dumb bells faster to tease her a little bit. Steve grunted with every motion of the weight and sweat dripped down his perfectly tone stomach that practically made Charlie drool. 

Charlie’s face was bright red when she stepped completely into the room. Fortunately for her, the treadmill faced away from the free weights. She felt the fire in her stomach quell once she wasn’t looking at him directly. 

She used the remote to turn Netflix on and watch The Vampire Diaries, her current favorite show. 

Charlie started running but she could feel Steve’s gaze. It took everything in her power not to stop the treadmill and stare at him in lust while he finished his workout.

He had seemingly been in there much longer than Charlie because he was done when she was only five minutes into her run. 

He walked over to her treadmill while toweling the sweat off his pecs. Steve leaned against the wall to watch her run and Charlie tried her best to ignore him. 

“Charlie,” he said in a sing-songy voice, “Are you ignoring me?” 

Charlie was already breathless when she looked at him but damn it if the pout on his face didn’t make her lose her breath even more. 

“Steve, I’m trying to run.” 

“I know, and you still look so pretty,” Steve flirted with her. 

He honestly had no idea what possessed him to be so bold with his feelings for her, whether it was the adrenaline from his workout or just pent up aggression. 

Charlie’s face turned red when he complimented her. 

After a few moments of her silence Steve gave up, “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll leave you alone. You need to be downstairs for lunch in an hour.” 

Steve turned to leave and all Charlie could think about was how gorgeous he looked. She didn’t even register his command until he left the room. 

She ended her workout early, she only ran for thirty minutes. She headed upstairs to shower and wash her hair. 

Charlie got dressed into an oversized shirt and biker shorts. She didn’t see the point in putting together an outfit that she would have to get changed out of in a couple of hours. 

Her hair was still wet when she went downstairs for lunch. Steve was already down there in sweats and a clean shirt. It was clear he had just showered and when Charlie sat next to him her knees almost buckled because of how heavenly he smelled. 

She wanted nothing more than to climb on his lap and press her face into his shirt. 

The tension between the two was palpable. Steve almost regretted how he flirted with her in the gym, but the way she was looking at him now made him glad he did it. Charlie’s eyes were filled with curiosity and lust, something Steve had never seen from her before. 

Cynthia sat down two plates of salad with chickpeas and imitation chicken in front of them. They both thanked her while eating silently. Usually their silence was comfortable, but today it was almost nauseating. Charlie had no idea how they were going to get through dinner like this. 

She finished eating as quickly as she possibly could and scurried up to her room as soon as she could. Steve smiled at her nervousness. She had gotten out of her shell only a few days ago, but the pink tinge on her cheeks made his chest ache. 

There were still five or so hours until Bucky got here, however, Charlie would need to get ready in three hours. In the meantime she sulked in bed while watching Netflix. It was hard to focus with the way Steve had made her feel. He didn’t say anything insanely provocative, it just made her heart beat a million miles a minute and forced her to think about him in a way she most definitely did not need to think about him in. 

Charlie fell asleep thinking about what happened. Her nap was only an hour but it worked to kill time. 

She probably needed to think about what she would wear tonight. Charlie had never been required to dress nice for an event or anything. She didn’t exactly grow up that way. However, the clothes she got with Steve a few days ago in her walk-in closet were fancy. Not all of them, but one dress in particular could work. 

The dress was black and strapless. The centerpiece of the dress was the black feather that went around the top hem of the dress. It came with long opera gloves that matched with more black feathers. She could wear some black nylon pantyhose with it along with her new black platform heels with a little ankle strap. Hopefully that would be nice enough for Steve. She wanted to do everything in her power to impress him and Bucky tonight. 

Plus, the dress complimented her body perfectly. Charlie wasn’t the curviest girl in the world, but the dress showed off her small waist and what little bit of an ass she had from running. 

She sent Steve a picture of the outfit on the hanger and he just sent her a thumbs up emoji. Maybe Bucky would be more appreciative of how good she would look in the dress. 

It was time to get ready before she knew it. She played music from her phone, one of the few ways it proved useful, while she curled her hair. Her golden blonde hair was splayed across her back in loose curls. Charlie was satisfied with the way her hair looked. She didn’t do it very often, so it was a nice change of pace. 

One of the few luxuries Charlie had when she lived with her asshole father was makeup. She adored doing her makeup late at night and when her father was asleep or in a drunken haze.  Charlie was pretty good at it too. She didn’t want it to be too dramatic and take anything away from the dress. She just did sharp eyeliner and a red lip. 

It was 6:45 when she finished putting her outfit on. Nerves bubbled in her stomach while she looked in the mirror. Charlie pulled the gloves on and paced around her bathroom. 

She was scared out of her mind to meet Bucky. She wasn’t having second thoughts about ‘entertaining’ him, as Steve put it, she just didn’t want to disappoint him. 

Charlie took a deep breath and looked into the mirror. She couldn’t deny how pretty she looked. Hopefully the guys downstairs thought the same. 

She opened the door to her bedroom and slowly descended down the stairs. There were six men downstairs waiting for her. She of course knew Steve, Bruce and Sam, but the other three men were all foreign to her.  All eyes were on Charlie and she was suddenly in her element. All of her anxiety dissipated when she saw their wanton gazes dance across her body. 

All of the men stood up from their seats and Steve introduced her to them, “Bucky, Tony, Clint, this is Charlie.” 

Charlie zeroed in on Bucky. He was wearing a nice black suit and his hair was pulled back in a neat bun at the base of his neck. Charlie noticed that the hand that peeked out of his suit jacket was metal. She didn’t let it phase her. 

Charlie smiled at them, “It’s nice to meet you.”

She leaned in to kiss each of them on cheek, leaving a small lipstick stain on each of them. Bucky’s lipstick stain was located more so on his jawline than his cheek. 

“Steve, you’ve been hiding such a beautiful girl from us?” 

Steve raised his hands up in innocence, “Sorry, boys. I think you’ll like her though. Charlie is a real sweet girl, she’ll help you out in any way she can, isn’t that right?” 

She didn’t love how Steve spoke about her like she wasn’t even in the room but she still nodded in agreement with him. 

Bucky put his hand on the small of her back and led her back to the couch where they all were previously sitting. Charlie sat close to him and he put his arm on the back of the couch where she sat. Bucky had quickly taken a liking to Charlie that none of the other men had. That obviously worked out in Charlie’s favor. 

The boys talked amongst themselves and she pretended to listen. In all honesty she didn’t care much about anything they were saying. 

Slowly, Bucky’s hand wandered up and down Charlie’s nylon covered thigh. She couldn’t deny the chills it sent up her spine. 

Steve watched with a dark look in his eye. He kept reminding himself he asked her to do this, but the anger that built in his chest was hot and painful. Steve took a deep breath and tried his best to calm down. 

Charlie leaned against Bucky’s metal arm and Bucky suddenly dragged Charlie into his lap. She squealed in surprise but quickly settled down. The boys kept talking without sparing her and Bucky a second glance.

Steve, however, saw this and fury ignited in his body, “Alright. Dinner’s ready.” 

His words were short and firm. Charlie knew this tone of voice and she could tell Steve was mad about something, she just didn’t know what. She stood up from Bucky’s lap and the entire group followed Steve into the formal dining room. Steve sat at the head of the dark wooden table and everyone else found their seats. Charlie sat in between Steve and Bucky. Dinner was rather unremarkable, the men just talked about their wives and home lives. 

“So, Charlie,” Bucky began, “What are you doing living with Steve?” 

Charlie panicked. She had no idea how to answer this question because in all honesty she didn’t know why she was living with Steve since he put an end to their arrangement a few days ago. She looked to Steve for help. “Charlie is actually my personal assistant,” Steve intervened. “Really? I’ve been getting emails from a Peter Parker who says he’s your assistant,” Bucky raised an eyebrow. 

“Peter is a receptionist at the office, Charlie is my live in assistant.” 

Bucky seemed unconvinced but Charlie was just thankful for how fast Steve could think on his feet. 

After everyone finished dinner they all retired to the cigar room for whiskey and smokes. One of the men, Clint, told Charlie that typically this room was for the men only but that they would make an exception for her. The way Clint spoke to her made her skin crawl but she maintained a good facade. 

The cigar room had dark leather sofas for the men to sit in along with a pool table and darts. Charlie was tasked with pouring all of the men whiskey and giving them cigars to smoke. All of the men nursed their whiskey and debated about business. 

Charlie could tell Steve and Bucky were talking about their potential partnership but she couldn’t keep up with the conversation. She tried to make herself look busy by refilling the glasses for the other men in the room. 

The night felt like it had been going on for centuries by the time Bucky and Steve were shaking on a deal they made. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief when she knew the deal was a reality and she could relax. She would like to think her flirting with Bucky contributed to it but she couldn’t be sure. 

The night came to a close when her and Steve were bidding their goodbyes to the men and leading them out the door of the mansion. Charlie watch them all leave in their sleek black sports cars. 

Steve closed the door and turned to Charlie, “Thank you so much.” Steve brought her in a tight hug and she melted into his arms. He was positive her makeup was smeared across his black blazer but he didn’t care. He was so happy to have her small body in his arms and away from Bucky. 

Steve didn’t think he could ever let her go again. 

“That was really exhausting,” Charlie’s voice was muffled in his chest. 

“Incredibly. These type of things won’t happen very often, promise,” he said pulling away from her. “Why don’t you go get showered and ready for bed and we can watch a movie on the couch?”

The command was worded as a question but Charlie knew it was order. 

The rest of the night was spent cuddled up on the couch watching Bridesmaids. Charlie was pressed against Steve’s chest and the pair didn’t even bother to question it. It felt natural, and they were too tired to discuss any of what happened tonight. All they wanted to do was enjoy one anothers presence and they did. 

They both fell asleep on the couch tangled in each others arms. 

[eddiebillysteve]

cat and mouse

(( harringroveson prison au )) chapter fourteen | find it on ao3 HERE

a/n | planning on uploading a chapter every saturday from here on out !! also don't forget to check out @leticheecopae's sister fic pit of vipers bcus it is SO good and connects so much to mine (and will even more as it progresses!) thank you for reading!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and comments!! :') aLSO would love to give a shoutout to my first ko-fi supporter because?? i could barely believe it!!! so a massive thank you to ada <333

warnings | anti-religion comments? if that's what it'd be called?, daddy kink, dom/sub themes, punishments, possessiveness, murder/suicide, drugs/failed overdose mention, steve being a gay panicked confused mess (this is a permanent tag), he's also being trained with candies and i'm not sorry about it, general prison talk, stuff like that !!

tag list | @whoringrove @darkandstormyslash @devotionsofmaryoliver @nowhereinthedenn @cherixsays - let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future updates or removed from the list !!

moodboard by @a-redharlequin !!

Breakfast hour was weird without Billy, even when they knew he was safe in his cell. Their table didn’t feel complete without him sitting at the head between Steve and Argyle. The empty spot haunted the four boys who were left, reminding them of Creel and his power and how he could so easily tear any of them apart. 

Still, they made the most of it. Since Jonathan returned from being on watch, he and Steve chatted about anything and everything to fill the silence. Eddie told stories too, sometimes, but he was much more interested in listening to his baby’s sweet voice talking about Three’s Company or Duran Duran.

“How’s being nineteen?” Jonathan asked the morning after Steve’s birthday, taking a little spoonful of cereal. 

“The same as being eighteen,” Steve joked. “Just really weird to know it was spent in here. My best birthday yet, don’t get me wrong, but–”

His voice came to a quick stop when someone was sitting beside him, sitting in Billy’s seat.

“Woah, brochacho,” Argyle immediately said, still somehow managing to sound relaxed, but Steve knew better. “Taken. Sit somewhere else.”

“Shit.”

Steve looked over at Eddie when the word stumbled out of his Papa’s mouth. They were staring at each other, Eddie and the blonde man that had sat down beside him, and the nervous look on Eds’ face made Steve nervous in turn. Really nervous.

“Your little boyfriend really thought he could get rid of me, Munson? He thinks I’m that big a threat, huh?” The blonde boy, who didn’t even look Argyle’s way, leaned in closer, almost over Steve to murmur his words to Eddie. “I know that little stunt was all him, so you can tell him you will pay for his mistake tonight.”

Carver was supposed to be dead, Eddie knew that much. He was on Creel’s side whether he considered himself to be or not, had used Eddie without Billy’s permission, and had to pay for his sins. He wasn’t supposed to have survived; Hagan had been told to subdue him and force enough product down his throat to have him overdose. Billy had told Eddie while in the infirmary, and Eddie had passed the message along to Argyle, who would vouch for him, at least.

The one that was really in trouble was Tommy for not doing exactly as he was told. Eddie, too, but because of how angry Jason was. He was desperate for revenge, nearly frothing at the mouth for it. Anyone within ten feet of him could see how he was refraining from throwing Eddie to the floor to start wailing on him.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life,” Jason hissed, and Steve leaned backward to try to put some space between him and the words. “You need to learn the word of the Lord, Munson. Maybe then you’ll understand why I’m not going anywhere. God only punishes sinners.”

“And you’re not a sinner? Aren’t you in here for beating the shit out of your girlfriend?” Eddie snorted and Jason standing up in two seconds.

Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, but he was up at the same time, standing between the two of them to block Jason from being able to reach for Eddie. It just happened, the same as if someone were to try to bully Dustin in front of him. His body reacted, went into protective mode. “Relax, man. I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, leaning back a bit to take Steve in. “Jesus, no one told me you’re getting fucked by two daddies now, Munson. Hargrove not good enough for you anymore? Just how loose have you gotten while I’ve been gone?”

“Right, nope. This isn’t happening,” Eddie stood up, shaking his head and waving his arms around. “Shut the fuck up, Carver. Think all those drugs you do have melted your brain. Didn’t know God let crackheads into Heaven these days.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispered, wanting him to calm down. He’d be in trouble if he got into a fight – not just with the guards but with Billy, too. “Everyone just… calm down. This is crazy.”

“You would both be quite wise to listen to him. This is a cafeteria, afterall, not a jungle. As feral as some of you may be, you are not animals. Sit and eat, or get to work.”

Every head in the room turned to look at the source of the too-calm voice that broke through the tension. Creel could silence a room just by walking into it, let alone speaking. Even the biggest, most muscular murderers were frightened of him. 

“I will not repeat myself,” He said when no one moved, tilting his head the tiniest bit. Eddie immediately sat, grabbing Steve’s wrist to yank him down, too, and even Jason sat back down in Billy’s seat.

Creel had been the one to transfer him. He’d hand chosen him, had surveyed the prison up north for someone big enough – and potentially crazy enough – to give Billy a run for his money and to be a distraction of sorts. He’d told Jason what his job was, and what the consequences would be if he failed to do as he was told.

But even Jason wanted nothing to do with him.

“32566, it’s been too long,” Creel stepped forward, closer to their table, and Eddie’s grip tightened on Steve’s wrist where it was hidden from view. “Who’s your friend?”

Eddie couldn’t breathe. He’d succeeded in keeping Steve invisible until now, but his attempts had been futile. All because of Jason fucking Carver. 

“Harrington,” Steve answered when Eddie didn’t speak, glancing nervously at his Papa.

“I don’t believe I was speaking to you, was I?” The guard’s voice was polite, but his eyes were so dark that they’d join the list of things haunting Steve’s nightmares. “32566, his number?”

“I don’t know it,” Eddie muttered, dropping his eyes from Creel to his tray.

“You don’t know it,” Creel sighed like he was disappointed. “Then we’ll just have to find out together, won’t we? Come along.”

This time it was Steve’s hand that was shifting to secretly grab onto Eddie’s wrist beneath the table, a feeble attempt to keep him from moving. After another breath, though, Eds moved to stand again. 

“Not you, 32566.”

Eddie paused mid stance, almost frozen in place. He couldn’t take Steve, he was too delicate. He wouldn’t last two seconds alone with Creel. “I’ve got it. I can grab it. It’ll take me two seconds,” Eddie tried, daring himself to glance up and meet Creel’s eyes. 

“Sit back down. I’ve finished speaking to you. Your friend may stand.”

He had never felt so helpless before. Steve standing beside him and not being able to stop him or do anything about it was a special kind of torture. The only thing he could do was watch as Steve followed Creel towards the cafeteria’s doors, sparing one frightened glance back to his Papa on the way.

Jonathan had gotten up and slipped out of the room the second Creel had made himself known, though. He’d run straight to get Billy, who was waiting outside the cafeteria doors for them, jaw clenched and steely eyed. 

“Well, hello, 62097. I didn’t realize you were off of bed rest yet,” Creel stopped moving to stand in front of Billy, hands moving to fold in front of himself just like always. “I thought you were relieved from work duty until Monday morning.”

“That’s right,” Billy didn’t look at Steve, didn’t even acknowledge that he was there. “Just came to get a cup of coffee and heard you needed a number. Thought I’d save you the trip. 82894.”

Creel’s eyes narrowed.

“His number, Officer Creel. It’s 82894. Now there’s no reason for him to have a delayed start. I can only imagine how behind the laundry unit is without me there to keep everyone in line.” Billy's insides contorted in the same way they used to when he had to face his father while knowing he’d pay for it later, but he’d rather it be him than Steve or Eddie any day; Steve, in particular, would be crushed under a mere few words.

“How very helpful of you, 62097,” Creel replied; his voice was tight, irritated, and he pulled his hands apart long enough to gesture back towards the cafeteria. “You’re dismissed, 82894. You may leave.”

Steve gave Billy a look of pure gratitude before practically running back to Eddie. It felt like he’d been saved from a volcanic eruption – Billy had jumped in front of a bullet for him and would do it again without a second of hesitation.

Billy hadn’t met his eyes, though; he still didn’t acknowledge Steve, not even when he was scampering off. His blue eyes were stuck on Creel’s, the two of them refusing to look away from the other and be the first one to break.

“I shall walk you back to your cell, 62097. Make sure you get settled in properly again. It wouldn’t hurt to check up on your wounds, either, hm? Check to see if everything’s alright. Would be such a shame if you were to be out of work for a few weeks more by doing something stupid .”

“Yeah,” Billy cleared his throat. “It sure would.”

***

“One fucking thing, Hagan. Told you to do one fucking thing!” 

Billy had burst into the laundry room a few hours into their shift. Two joints was all it took to get the guards to let him in and leave him alone with his crew for a bit. Their logic was that if Billy wanted to move around and fuck up his healing, he could. They weren’t going to babysit him, especially not if he was offering weed to get them to turn a blind eye.

“Holy fuck. I should beat your goddamn head in for being so fucking stupid!” 

No one else in the room made a sound as Billy went off, Jonathan sitting with his hands over his ears. Billy was roaring, pacing around to keep himself from pinning Tommy to the wall. His anger wasn’t a full blown blind rage – it stemmed from fear. 

Creel knew about Steve because of the fuck up and would know he was an easy target just like Jonathan by dinner hour. He was in panic mode, barely able to think though it. All he knew was that they were fucked – not just him, but all of them. 

“Always comes back to me. Have to do fucking everything around here, useless fucking prick. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Eddie stepped in when Billy started to throw things around, cautiously walking up to him to touch his shoulders. “Bills, breathe,” He whispered, squeezing them tight. “Come here and sit down for a minute. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Don’t you tell me what to fucking do,” Billy snapped, shoving Eddie away, but there wasn’t any reaction from his old cellie. Eddie simply stepped forward again, reached for Bills’ wrists, and pulled him over to a chair when he wasn’t pushed away again. 

“We need to think, yeah? So just – chill for a minute,” Eddie tried his best to soothe him without sounding condescending. “Steve’s fine, I’m fine. We’ll get Carver taken care of and then–”

“And then Creel’ll tear Steve to shreds for fun, and then what, huh? You don’t know shit about what he does, none of you do. Preppy fucking princess over there wouldn’t survive twenty seconds trapped in a cell with him,” Billy was up again, throwing his hands in the air, and Eddie glanced over at Steve.

If he hadn’t stood up, hadn’t tried to defend Eddie, everything may have been prevented.

“I have to kill him. Have to. It’ll never end,” Hargrove started up again, and Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I don’t give a shit if I get life. It’ll be worth it to see the life drain out of those fucking eyes.”

“Billy, stop. You can’t say shit like that,” Eddie went right back to him, voice shifting into something more pleading. 

Argyle was up too then, reaching out to grab Billy’s arm. His grip was tight, unlike Eddie, and he shook him for a second. “No one’s getting life, man. Get it together. You can’t do shit if you’re worked up like this. Chill. Out. ”

With a shake of his head, Billy pulled his arm free and headed back towards the door. Talking about murder out in the open was a dangerous game – but everyone in the room could be trusted and the guards weren’t anywhere near. “This ends soon. I’m coming up with a goddamn plan to end him if it’s the last thing I do.”

***

“I want you to kneel down here, right between my legs, alright? Need to talk to you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. He sat on the bottom bunk, spreading his legs open before guiding Steve down to kneel between them. His hands were gentle on Steve’s wrists, only letting him go to touch his shoulders to press him downwards.

Billy shifted on the top bunk until he was able to look down at them. He’d spent the entire afternoon plotting and writing too many drafts to Chrissy to try to relay his thoughts to her without getting flagged or Max realizing what he was thinking, and now the boys were back from work and dinner hour to keep him company again. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened in the cafeteria, but even through his anger he could tell Eddie wasn’t right when he’d stopped by earlier on. Something had upset him, and now he could tell that that something was Steve.

“I’m upset with you,” Eddie murmured, his hand going to pet Steve's hair. He nearly took the words back when he saw the way Steve’s entire face fell and his eyes started to water.

“I’m sorry,” He immediately started, but Eddie shook his head. 

“No speaking yet, Stevie. You answer me when I ask you a question, but that’s it,” Eddie’s voice was even, calm, and his hand shifted again to massage his scalp. “I’m not angry, but I am upset. Do you know why?”

Steve took a second to think, desperately searching his mind to try to figure out what he could have done. He had been a good boy at work, hadn’t even cowered when Billy started throwing things. “Because I… I went with the guard?” He guessed, looking back up at him.

“No,” Eddie slipped his hand from Steve’s hair, moving it downwards to hold his chin. “What did you do during breakfast? After Carver joined us. Tell me what happened, exactly what you did.”

Even though he was trying, Steve couldn’t remember what he’d done wrong. His fingers reached for Eddie’s sweats, fiddling with them as his eyes dropped to look at his torso. “I was–”

“Ah, ah. Eyes up here. On me, baby,” Eddie tipped his chin upwards to emphasize his words, and Steve forced his eyes back up.

Billy was absolutely perplexed on the top bunk. He’d punished Eddie hundreds of times over the years, but he’d never sat him down to talk first, not like this. He’d have him kneel for conversations often enough, have him naked and waiting on his knees for him, but there was something so intimate about the scene before him, something so gentle. It made his breath catch in his throat.

After sucking in a breath, Steve spoke again. “I was just eating and he sat down,” The words came out cautiously, like he was worried he was going to say the wrong thing, and his eyes flickered over Eddie’s face. He was trying to watch for a reaction, any sort of hint that he was doing good or bad. “And I was afraid he was going to hurt you and then the guard came.”

“Getting closer,” Eddie nodded, encouraging him to keep going. “What did you do when you were afraid he was going to do something to me?”

Oh. 

Eddie saw the realization spread over Steve’s face – and then the nervousness that followed it. “I stood up to block you behind me.”

“Right. There we go. And what did you put yourself in when you did that?” Eddie raised his eyebrows a touch. 

“A bad situation?”

It was hard for Eddie to resist smiling at how small and shaky Steve’s voice was. Even though he was frightened, it wasn’t in the same way he’d been frightened of Billy. It made Eddie realize Steve trusted him.  “ Exactly. A bad situation. A dangerous situation. You intentionally put yourself in harm's way.”

“But I didn’t mean to. I was just there, and I thought he was–”

“Shh,” Eddie cooed. “You have to learn not to do it again. And how do you think we should do that? How should I teach you, what’s a good punishment?”

If his Papa wasn’t so calm, Steve would have been in full blown panic mode. He would have been convinced he was getting an M to match the H on his arse, and would have started to choke on his own fear and beg for mercy, but Eddie didn’t have Billy’s temper. His hands weren’t rough, he wasn’t squeezing too tight – if anything, his thumb was smoothing over Steve’s jaw, silent encouragement for him to answer the question.

“I don’t know,” He shook his head a bit.

Billy had some ideas from the top bunk, but he kept his mouth shut, staying silent to see just what Eddie was planning on doing.

“I’m sure you can come up with something, Stevie. Think for a minute.”

Steve let out a soft little sigh. He didn’t know anything about punishing other people – the most he would do to ‘punish’ Dustin when he acted up was lecture him about safety, maybe take away one of his little figurines or science experiments for a day. It gave him something to go off of, at least.

“Maybe no sweets? For today?”

“Just for today?” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, physically couldn’t contain it. “It’s past seven o’clock. We’ve got less than two hours before lights out, I think that’d be a pretty tame punishment, but good boy for coming up with something.”

Eds didn’t know what was going to happen when he went back to his cell; Jason was going to be pissed as fuck, but he didn’t know if that would mean he’d get the shit beat out of him or if he’d have to listen to the blonde read out from his bible the entire night. He’d prefer the former, he decided. Anything but the fucking preaching.

“I think we can start with sweets. No sweets for two days,” Eddie decided, but then he paused to ponder for a second. “Open up Daddy’s drawer, pick some out.”

Steve hesitated, looking at Eddie for a moment, and then up to the top bunk. Billy raised his eyebrows just a smidge, challenging him to disobey Eddie’s orders, but Steve wouldn’t dare. He obeyed, opening Billy’s compartment underneath his bunk that held all the fun items. His drawer was only ever used their clothes, and everything else was kept in Billy’s. There were all the snacks, the makeup he’d just gotten for his birthday, a couple of books. He got out two packets, one of his favorite gummy bears and another that was a hard kind, before sliding the cubby back in.

“Good boy. Now open them,” Eddie instructed some more, and Steve’s face contorted in confusion before he tore the packages of candy open. “And dump them into the toilet.”

“What? No!” The words came out before Steve could stop them, hands tightening around the plastic packages. “That’s such a waste, you can’t just–”

“It’s not a waste if it’s teaching you a lesson. You put yourself in dangerous situations, and you lose your rewards,” Eddie leaned in further to him and his voice dropped down a bit. “Pour them into the toilet, baby. And then you’re going to flush them. It might help you remember not to try to play the hero next time. Daddy and Papa don’t need protection, okay?”

Billy hadn’t been expecting to find Eddie in dominant mode such a turn on, but he did. He wanted to bend him over the bottom bunk and rail him until Papa was screaming like a pretty little whore. 

After another few moments, Steve stood up with a sigh and went to stand above the toilet. It may have seemed like a silly punishment, but it wasn’t just candy he was having to flush. It felt like he was having to flush that addictive feeling that came with them, the feeling all the praise gave him. It made him feel horrible, like he’d done something so wrong, like he’d been bad, and if he stayed bad, they wouldn’t want him anymore. He had to be good, had to listen and be who they wanted him to be so they would just stay, so they would love him and be his family for real instead of playing pretend like it was all bullshit. Even if Billy could be rough sometimes, and even if he didn’t want to do everything they told him he had to, they wanted him, usually so much that they didn’t care if he wanted them back. Eddie didn’t pull his hand away when Steve reached to hold one, Billy didn’t turn him down when he asked him to climb down and sleep with him after the lights went out and his thoughts took over. He didn’t want to lose it, lose them, like he’d lost everyone else.

It was a feeling he didn’t want to feel again. It was the complete opposite to the high he normally got from the candy and praise.

The hard ones were dumped first, the sound of them clinking against the metal toilet filling the cell for a few moments. Then, after another glance at Eddie, he dumped the gummies in, too.

“Go on,” Eds prodded, and as Steve flushed the sweets away, Billy jumped down from the top bunk.

It definitely wasn’t any sort of punishment he would have given – he was more into the physical kind – but Steve did look upset, the wheels in his head turning and clearly overthinking the entire thing as if he’d just flushed half his soul instead of two small packages of candy that barely cost forty cents a piece. 

“I want you to think about this then next time you feel the need to step in,” Eddie reached out to twist Steve around until he was facing him and Billy. “We protect you. We look after you. Not the other way around. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Steve mumbled.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Papa. I understand,” His cheeks turned red and Eddie brought his fingers up to brush over them. 

“Good boy. Now strip.”

Billy raised his eyebrows then, watching Eddie reach out to pry the packages from Steve’s hands to toss into the garbage so their boy could start peeling his clothes off. He’d left his hesitancy over being naked behind while Billy was gone, and was far more used to being nude. Still, he didn’t know what Eddie’s plans were, his own ideas running through his mind at a mile a minute.

Even though he wouldn’t look at them as he peeled his clothes off, Steve stripped down to his underwear before them. Once he was clad only in his briefs, hands not really sure what to do with themselves, he looked between both men, waiting for more instructions. 

“I think he should have something to remind him of what he’s done tonight, don’t you, Bills?” Eddie asked, still keeping his eyes on Steve. “Take them off, too, Stevie. I’ve got an idea.”

“I’m starting to like your ideas, sweetheart,” Billy laughed through his nose, eyes following the underwear as the fabric slid down Steve’s legs. 

“I’m full of good ones. Could’ve shared them a long time ago if you’d of let me indulge this side,” Eddie joked. He held his hand out for them, curling his fist around them. “I’m going to make a mess in these, and Daddy’s going to make a mess all over you, and you’re going to sleep in it, yeah? And then, when we go to the showers tomorrow morning, everyone’ll see what a mess you are before you wash it off.”

“Well, shit, Eds,” Billy laughed softly and Steve’s eyes went wide. “Couldn’t have come up with anything better myself. Didn’t know you were into humiliating pretty boys.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Hargrove,” Eddie teased. “I take it this sounds good with you, then? You approve?”

“Yeah, baby. I approve. All sounds good to me,” Billy pulled Eddie in for a kiss before nodding towards the bottom bunk. “Get on your bed, Stevie. On your back. Spread those lovely legs for me.”

Steve’s eyes prickled with tears a little bit at the idea, but he shifted past Eddie to do as he was told. He laid on his bunk, bending his legs at the knees and spreading them wide so Billy could stand between them at the edge and duck down enough to look in at him. It prevented Billy from having to get atop him and put any strain on his body – he could simply stand up straight and jack off above him, let his load out over Steve’s cock. It started to stir to life when Billy looked down at him, tongue snaking out over his lips as he got his cock out. 

Normally, Billy was against wanking off – he had no desire to, not when he had two babies with four holes and four hands between them – but he reminded himself that it served a purpose this time. 

“You’re gonna fall asleep with Daddy and Papa’s cum all over you, princess. Going to absolutely ruin your panties,” Billy muttered, more to himself. Steve felt around with one arm for the bears that lived on his bed all day. “You’re real lucky that Papa is so kind and gentle with you. I would have beat your ass bluer than that silly bear for doing something so stupid. But it’s okay, you can be a stupid baby. Only thing you have to worry about is pleasing us, we’ll teach you the rest,” He grunted, jutted his hips a little harder into his hand, before stopping and reaching for Steve’s, instead. Once Steve wrapped his hand around his thick cock, Billy covered it with his own to guide him along, setting the pace. “When I’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is cock and candy and those bears, baby boy. Gonna be a perfect pet for us by the time we get out of here. Might get you a leash and everything when we get out, keep you close and spread open for whenever I need you. I think you’d like it more than you think, Stevie. Never having to worry about working, or bills, or any responsibility, your sole purpose to please. It’s what you’re good for, you know? Looking pretty and being a few tight holes for me. Can’t wait to finally tear that tiny little ass apart, fuck.”

The words didn’t hold any meaning, not to Billy. He wasn’t serious – of course Steve would be his pet, their pet, but it wasn’t all he was good for. There wasn’t a doubt in Billy’s mind that Steve would go on to be some sort of big deal when he was released, maybe a teacher or something with kids, but gushing about his faith in his pets wasn’t exactly his thing even if it somehow would have made for good dirty talk. In no way did he think his baby was stupid or incapable, he thought Steve was bright and clever and fun to be around, but he didn’t realize that Steve considered himself such. He didn’t know Steve’s insecurities and trauma and issues, didn’t know that words of him being a mindless sex pet would bother him.

He just didn’t see himself as being good for a lot of things. He didn’t consider himself to be smart, or clever, and he clearly couldn’t consider himself strong if he let Billy treat him like a bitch from day one. Even before getting locked up, he didn’t have much hope for his future, and it was even worse as the days went on. The only thing he felt good for was obeying them, and Eddie being upset with him had him questioning even that. 

“Don’t cry, Princess,” Billy’s voice shifted to a coo, free hand leaving Steve’s thigh to reach and wipe his cheeks. “You just gotta learn, that’s all. That’s why we’re here, to train you real good. Go on, say it. Tell us you’re gonna be our perfect little pet.”

When he didn’t immediately repeat the words, Billy came to a pause, stopping his hips and keeping his hand still. 

“Stevie. Say it. Tell Daddy you’re going to be such a good pet that all our friends are gonna be jealous, wish you were theirs. Maybe I’ll share you, train you to love it just like Papa. The more cocks you go though, the better. It’s what your body needs.”

“I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll be your perfect pet.”

Eddie let out a stifled groan from his place behind Billy at Steve’s shaky voice, almost immediately releasing into the underwear he was jacking himself off into. He’d been silently listening to Billy’s words and the sound of their hands around Billy’s cock as he got himself off; it hadn’t taken long after getting to look down at Steve on his knees for him. The image was enough wanking fuel for the next three weeks, at least.

“Good boy. I know you will. Did you hear that? You got Papa off,” Billy started to move their hands again, shifting his feet to position himself so he could spurt over Steve’s cock, his pubic hair, his thighs. He wanted to make a real mess of it just like Eddie had pictured. 

As he got closer, Eddie moved to toss the soiled underwear onto the bunk beside Steve before sliding his arms around Billy’s waist from behind. The act made him stiffen at first, but he relaxed when Eds dug his nails into his skin.

“You close, Daddy?” Eddie murmured, resting his chin on Billy’s shoulder so he could look down at Steve, too. “Jesus, just look at him. Those big eyes. Can’t believe he’s all ours.” Billy grunted at the words, a signal for him to keep going. “Look how pretty they are when they’re filled with tears, Bills. You think he’ll cry real hard when you fuck him? I’ll get him all ready for you. Stretch him open, have him waiting to be filled right up.”

Eddie slid his hand downwards, pushing their hands away until he could take over the motion and finish getting him off. He felt like he knew what his man liked better than Billy himself did, could milk the grunts and groans out of him with ease. When he came, Eddie was sure to get it just where he wanted it, and then proceeded to smear it along Steve’s cock afterwards. He wanted it to be uncomfortable, for Steve to feel the stickiness whenever he shifted. 

“Good boy. Now we put these back on, and you’re getting into bed,” Eddie murmured once Billy had backed up and out of the way, working to get Steve’s underwear back up and over his legs. Even though he was blinking out tears, Steve was hard, but Eds shook his head at him. “You don’t get to get off. Not tonight. If you ask Daddy after lights out, he might let you hump one of the bears, but you’re not getting off. You’re already too much of a mess as it is.”

His voice was gentle, kind, and he wiped Steve’s tears as he spoke, words followed by a kiss to his forehead. “Come on, into bed. I’ve got to go before they come and drag me away.”

It drove him insane, not being able to stick around and crawl into bed with his baby. He missed bunking with Billy – some of their deepest conversations always came in the dead of night. It sucked having to leave them every single day, even more so when he had to go back to Jason Carver.

He said goodnight to Steve one more time before standing up straight and looking at his old cellie. “Night, Bills. Take it easy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He yanked Eddie in for a kiss before shoving him towards the cell door. “Get out of here before you’re thrown into isolation, Eds. Tell Carver he’ll be meeting Jesus Christ himself tomorrow if he lays a hand on you tonight. I’ll even end him in the prison’s chapel so he doesn’t have as long of a trip to hell.”

[coffee-at-annies]

F, N, T?

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

Well this is the hockey sideblog and I’ve been active over here since around 2017. I transitioned from omgcp and yuri on ice to primarily hockey around 2018-2020 and I’ve been here since. There’s fluctuations in interest and my levels of fandom participation but y’know it’s weird being able to say I’ve actively been here for around 5 years.

For passive fandom I’ve been a fan of dc/teen titans since the OG cartoon and when they rebooted teen titans after Donna’s death. So like I’ve been a passive Tim Drake+ fan for some 15-20 years, I’m just not active in dc comics fandom outside of like reading fanfic. Idk if I could call that my longest fandom since I’m not creating any content. If reading a thing counts I’ve also been actively reading Girl Genius for over 10 years.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

*stares deep into the middle distance and contemplates how much I want to whack the hornets nest* Hope you’re prepared for more hockey.

More love/interest for non-superstar players. Everyone has their guy, their blorbo, their favorite, but that’s very frequently the big guys on the team y’know. The emotional support depth forward or third D deserves love too

This feels very silly since I’m talking about professional sports but a thing I see people struggling with when posting about sports online is emotional regulation in regards to losses. Watching your special guys lose sucks. The serotonin broadcast didn’t make the happy win chemical. It can be worse if you spent money to see it live. That’s hard to deal with. I repeat, it’s really hard to deal with if you’re new to it and deep in the hyperfixation. I’ve struggled with it myself. The place I see issues is that some people make that others’ problem either by doomspiraling or baiting. It’s not the job of a stranger on the internet to tell you how to manage your emotions and expectations. Losing happens. Losing streaks happen. How you deal with it is a reflection on you. I understand that sometimes we get folks who are experiencing baby’s first fandom and haven’t figured out how not to make their emotions everyone else’s problem, but it’s an absolutely essential skill in any fandom or interpersonal context.

This is aimed at the more fannish side of things but I wish there was more variation. I see a lot of team mom and nesting omega jokes and I’m like why is it always the same person getting written as feminized/sub/bottom/omega. Why are we recreating cishet gender nonsense for mlm ships? Where’s the alpha/alpha? The switching? Why does everything have to be rigid? Where’s the fluidity in who does what? In interpretations? Where is the fluidity of human sexuality? I feel like people are sometimes holding so tightly to a headcanon that they forget to be playful with it. Or maybe the tightness is the playfulness and that’s how you see the guy. It doesn’t match up with how I see them but that’s fine. I just feel like there’s so much emphasis on getting it right that we aren’t exploring what else right could look like.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Oh tons. I’ve partaken in “he would not fucking say that” a bunch. There’s lots of stuff for any number of fandoms that are tightly held and I’ll die on this hill. I’m also very flexible most of the time. I’m both very specific about my headcanons and also willing to change based on what’s going on. I contain multitudes and so does fandom.

Heck occasionally I have two ride or die headcanons that are contradictory because thats just how it is sometimes. I’m trying to think of an example but I’m not coming up with anything specific. The joy of fandom is defending my headcanons to the death and then getting up and finding another hill to die on. Fandom should be about joy and play. If it doesn’t spark joy I should figure out why and what I can do about it and move on. No use dwelling on a thing that isn’t making me happy unless it’s like an angst headcanon in which case I’m getting joy from the saddness.

Letter Asks

[m3r1m4r5u333]

Bi story time!

I'm bi, and as a teen I just ended up in a friend group where most of us were bi. So it happened that we as a group sorta developed our own miniature sub-culture... Which was very bi-focused.

Which meant that sure, we talked and read lots about queer things... But because everyone was open about their sexuality, and because most of us were bi... We kinda developed a bi-normative mindset.

So while many of us were bi women, we did not joke and talk like many lesbians do - by which I mean that we rarely speculate about some kind of 'tells' which hint that a woman is straight OR a lesbian.

So... We did NOT operate like a group of strictly-lesbian friends - who I feel often forget that bi/pan people even exist.

I've seen that many lesbians try to figure out if their crush is into them by inserting very specific 'lesbian inside jokes' into a conversation... Or try to scent some kind of 'telling' aversion towards men when they meet a woman they're interested in.

But as it happened, I just never knew a GROUP of lesbians growing up. I mean, sometimes I'd learn about 'lesbian-culture' and lesbian inside jokes, but I didn't really spend time in that space and mindset. As a result I'd learn stuff... And then often FORGET about it, because I'm like a dumb Sherlock, I just accidentally delete unactive data.

Then one day I was hanging out with a group of lesbian women. They were friends of a friend, I knew them just enough to know some personal info, their names, and their sexuality. They didn't know my sexuality.

Which in the end resulted in a conversation that was very bizarre and confusing to me. I guess the lesbians were wondering if I'm queer, because they kept inserting this 'gotcha' stuff into a conversation...

But because of my unreliable memory I DID NOT REMEMBER OR RECOGNIZE what all these random key words meant at the moment...

So I was just kinda scratching my head like 'Umm do I listen to the Girl in red? Why? I mean, the name sounds familiar but I can't remember any songs by that artist?"

And so on. Just not getting the clue.

Until that moment when the lightbulb FINALLY switched on. 'OH they're trying to ask if I'm interested in women!!!'

But ... by that time they'd already given up and had clearly decided that I must be straight because I just did not get the clue.

And then I was there, awkwardly observing the way I'd become an 'other' to them. Not one of them. And I realised they were now subtly mocking me, thinking I would not realise they were mocking me.

Really, it was bizarre, as a bi woman to watch a group of queer people make fun of how cluelessly 'straight' I was. They pretty much shut me out because to them, I was no longer interesting.

And for a while I wondered if I should now out myself as bi to this group of people who... I did not even really know, or trust... Who were now subtly bullying me.

And I decided - fuck that.

None of them really even considered the idea that I might be into women AND men, or that maybe I just happened to not know their lingo.

And I no longer wanted to get to know these people who pretty much forgot that not everyone is gay OR straight. A group of queer people which does not remember the existence of multisexuals is NOT a queer community I want to insert myself in.

So here's my story time. Learn whatever lesson you wish 😅

[ramu-ego]

mind sharing your other fandom favs then? you have me sort of curious if ego is tots ur type LMFAOA .. omg aftwr u-20 win ego was such a proud dad the face he made was honestly sort of emotional ..!!

NEVVER APOLOGIZE 4 WRITING ANOTHER FIC IDEA HEL i think with my pussy half the time and i read ANYTHINGGG as long as it’s dom!reader (can you tell i’m desperate ORR WHATT?) ngl your “pussy dragging on the keyboard” comment made my ass giggle for a full minute LMFOAO i’ll be using that as well thanks!

personally 4 me i never was really into nikko ASSS MUCHH.. but i can see the hype .. cant stop thinking how sweaty and greasy his forehead must be after those thick ass bangs though.!.!?!

WOAH our timezones r so different HELLPP.. by the time you said it was 6:40 am, it was at least night for me, polar opposites in a way sorta! godd you’re a chronic coffee drinker?? i’m more of a tea person myself but coffee does power through most things with ur day anyways, don’t overdose on it or something!! (unless u alrdy do LOL)

i’ve been doing great as ever, taking my time to relax before i’ve got to get back to that tiring education life again.. 🥲 your blogs has been a good way to pass the time though so a win win for me!! for the blue lock anime last week, episode 10 was surprisingly good considering i was scared shitless of animation budgeting and if they would butcher it, sometimes the cgi makes me giggle but hell i’m such a blue lock supporter that i just move on from all of the questionable moments with the animation!

i’m a sub watcher for all animes (which, i haven’t touched a lot of animes .. if you’re an avid anime watcher, any recs?)

for me, u-20 match was an INSANE ride for me, def my fav and i always reread it in a way, i think everything leading up to it like the 3v3 or 4v4 matches were great too, but u-20 match was hype like no other !! whiichhh brings me to my next point, i need to see more of hiori as his design was just too cute for me to pass up, just the hair and the eyes were so ?!? eye catching imo..

oh jeez and there was this one panel with this blue lock player with the most nicest hair but he just. NEVER APPEARED LMFAOO? i haven’t seen him ever since — don’t even think we got a name

ah jeez i’m SOOOO SORRY if my messages get a bit too long, I HATE JUST RESPONDING INSTEAD OF. CONTINUING A CONVERSATION (if this makes sense?) .. so i tend to ramble ^^’ don’t feel pressured to mirror the length though!! i’d be heading off to bed as i send this message in, so this is sort of my goodnight :P - 💌

OH GOD THE OTHERS-

-this will be a dead give a way to some of my very very old followers who've accidentally re found me after I achieved my last blog and took a long hiatus. I have very specific...qualities...to a lot of them that overlap...

in order from top left to right; Kurono Yuichiro (Fire Force absolute love of my life and a near 1:1 character match to Ego honestly), Hanma Shuji (TokyoRev), Sir Nighteye (MHA), Asagiri Gen (Dr Stone), Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Ginoza Nobuchika (Psycho Pass) ...three out of the six are played by the same English VA so you could say I have a type 😂

To be fair my other categories for favs are literally all copy and print similar too. My "These are my babies I'm breastfeeding them and enabling them" favs are near identical copies in every anime I watch 😂 then the third less talked about group...the dreaded libra group 😒

SOMETIMES YOU JUST WRITE WITH YOUR PUSSY AND NOT YOUR BRAIN AND THAT'S WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH THIS STUPID NIKO FIC THAT'S GOING WELL OVER SIX PAGES FOR NO STUPID REASON BESIDES THE PUSSY DESERVES IT UGH

ok but to gush a moment before forgetting the Ego during the U-20 match...that panel!!! Oh god that panel!!! Of him telling Isagi that what happened to him and his career didn't matter, that he was fine to be blacklisted from the sport he loved bc he assured all 22 of them had a career in soccer after this game, win or loose, OH GOD THAT PART. I will literally fist fight anyone at this point who wants to shit talk Ego and say he "doesn't care" bc that man was ready to throw away his livelihood for them to succeed on a world stage in the sport they love. Man's got protective dilf energy and I'm giving him a child this uterus is open for business rn

Niko is....Ok I'm blaming it on his VA actually (sorry I watch dubbed I just literally can't focus on subbed) and his English VA is a well known one but did a creepy high pitched voice with it and I mean I'm willingly fucking Ego like I'm advertising I'll kiss that weird man's ankles but Niko- Niko is just too fucking weird for me. But apparently the pussy wants to challenge that bc fuck me with a six plus page story over god damn nipples! Niko is still....too ugly for me RIP

My time zone is fucked at the butt end of everything so I am WAY use to being the last one up and last one to go to bed in every fandom I've ever been in 🤣 Learned that as a teen when literally no one was ever awake when I was RIP. But yes I'm a chronic coffee drinker I've always have been the bean it calls to me I must have it (given I don't drink enough to like NEED it or get a headache I just enjoy the taste but love tea too) Drank it thru my pregnancy and drank it breastfeeding no one's pulling the beautiful bean from my mouth. Love me a good tea though I won't deny good green, black and other teas hit different. Just no herbal shit stuff makes me wretch istg

Glad to hear I started this blog in good timing then! Ain't nothing like relaxing with some good pegging when you're trying to forget that book bullshit 💅 And honestly even though I picked up the manga right after like episode two (needed Ego I wasn't waiting lololol) I've been very happy with the animation cuz like the manga is illegally beautiful. Holy shit is the manga just so well done and the drawings are top tier throughout the entire thing (coming from tokyorev and jujutsu god I miss manga artists that don't just scribble on things like a coke addict) Questionable animation or not they keep slut drawing Ego's hands so damn fine and that man's watch I'll forgive any animation doozie long as my weird looking stick man looks fine as hell

I don't watch sub (I just can't take in the actual show and read plus I got a mad voice kink so....dubbed it is for me) But I've watch a fair share of anime. Don't really watch it for like...the sake of just watching anime (prefer western cartoons a little more) but I've watched some really good ones though. First on the list, Fire Force. I've single handedly convinced like two dozen people to watch this. It's my favorite of all time and will be tattooing the weird looking man in the collage on my body at some point bc of how much I love that series. Mob Psycho 100 is amazing as always for so many reasons and it has a bit of everything for everyone. The Case Study of Vanitas was better than it was aloud to be and I hate vampires. Dr. Stone fucking nerdy funny and entertaining. Psycho Pass is a good like murder mystery book. Sonny Boy and Space Dandy done by the same studio and will make you question your existence. Kekkaishi is old but still one of my favorites ever. And Blue Exoricst I wrote a 60+ chapter fan fic on it for a reason and its still going strong and written by a woman! Don't know about any of their sub versions but their stories and characters are so good they're worth it.

That entire block from the five round selection to the U-20 game was just- Fucking illegally good for a sports anime?? A sports anime for crying out loud?? Even the way they introduce so many new characters is so smooth and not even clunky and you genuinely take an interest in everyone even if you only see them for one game?? Hiori is cute...a little more feral than I expected when we first saw him being cute with Isagi and Nanase. But Hiori, Otoya, Karasu and Kurona haven't like wowed me yet. I'm invested but I'm still going real fucking soft on Yukimiya right now like. God. The eye thing. LET ME BABY YOU AND HAVE THAT SAD MAN. God he's gonna be so fucking pretty when he's animated I'm screaming already

Was that the panel of the dude with Gagamaru and Raichi? The one that's shown on the blue lock screen but we never have an actual manga cap of him?

PLS DON'T APOLOGIZE I TALK TOO MUCH I WAS A HAIRDRESSER FOR FIVE YEARS I TALK WAY TOO MUCH PLS NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR TALKING TO MUCH AS YOU CAN SEE I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL I'M SORRY I'M THE ONE RAMBLE. PLS HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY SINCE WE'RE OPPOSITE ENDS OF THE SUNNY TIME. RAMBLE ALL YOU WANT I ADORE IT <3

[sailorspica]

8, 26 and 43 for the gif-maker ask game 🤗

ooooh hell yea [this guy]

8. What gif trend do you hate

i'm gonna go with not just current trends but trends in the long history of tumblr, so: subtitles. firstly, they triple editing time if you don't have some kind of automation. secondly, the convention was black-outlined white text, then for multiple speakers, black-outlined CMYK, which hurts the eyes and gets messy in scenes with cross-talk

more philosophically, the gifs i made and reblogged a decade ago were from english media, and more than that, theater! where i could read and copy lines from a score or script, which can certainly vary due to ad-libs, but i'm biased toward authorial intent over actors' egos (some dead playwrights' estates will sue your ass for skipping a word). compare that to this latest tumblr homecoming of mine, prompted by the second male lead in a period k-drama. i also just don't watch/read english anymore, so while i'll transcribe my favorite subtitle track i have as a caption, i don't assume that's the same english translation everyone else has seen or that people watched it with either english subs or english audio

26. How many un posted sets are in your drafts right now

between both here and my k-pop blog, only three, and they're probably not seeing the light of day because i tend to upload whole sets, realize i hate something about them, then post the final version and forget to delete the draft. but i do have a gif queue! and i save the vanilla resized gif locally sometimes weeks in advance because i'm aggressive about deleting screenshots. relatedly,

43. Do you keep videos forever or delete them once you’re done giffing

if it's a movie or TV show, i have certainly t*rrented it and so will keep it forever on my 2tb external hard drive since i have dreams of divesting from streaming services/banking/generally being known and retreating to a cave. but i delete any shorter videos ripped from youtube like fancams and interviews once i'm done.

[casspurrjoybell-26]

Made of Steele - Chapter 4

*Warning: Adult Content*

It was Thursday and I was back at school and the moment I stepped inside the halls I felt all eyes on me.

From the two days I was recovering at home from being sick, the news that Hanna and I had broken up had spread not only across school but social media.

Sometimes, being the son of a known billionaire and the stepson of a famous actor sucked, even more now so that they were now married, making me newsworthy whenever something happened without my dad catching it fast enough.

My dad and Evan tried to make it less 'news' as possible but it was out there in the public and already too late to do anything, other than get on with my life.

I wanted a normal high school life and this is just something that came with the territory of choosing your own destiny.

One of those things, were being in the spotlight and just because I was uncomfortable, I was not going to run away like some coward.

"Hey Jamie," my friend, Leo came beside me, as I opened my locker to put my bag into.

"Heard about Hannah, sucks man but we all saw it coming."

I looked at him then scoffed, a small smile reaching my lips as I closed the locker.

"Yeah."

There wasn't anything more to say about it, my friends had spammed me all day yesterday to get gossip out of me and when I said nothing, Hannah had told them everything, which only made them spam me harder to ask if what she was saying was true.

"How are you doing? You look better than what I was told," he asked, as he walked beside me to our first class.

"What?" I said, looking at him confused.

"Hannah might be a bitch now,but she still cares about you, told us you saw a doctor and everything."

I hum and shrug, wondering why she said that, despite the last time I saw her, she was slamming my door and almost breaking the glass because we just broke up.

"Well, I'm fine now, so..."

We reach the classroom and I took a seat in the back, near the window, where the quiet kids usually sit to not talk to anyone but today I was claiming it as my own, as I got here first.

As more and more students start coming into the classroom and sitting down, the sooner the teacher came but to my surprise our regular teacher didn't show up but someone else.

"Mrs. Kim is out sick today, so I'm afraid you all get me," Kit starts, picking up a pen and turning around to write on the whiteboard. "Since I'm just a sub and only a few years older than you seniors, you can call me Kit or Sir the choice is yours," he adds, once he signed his name on the board, along with a book page number.

He had yet to look at me and considering what I did the last time I saw him, I thought he would spot me immediately but luckily for me I was hunched over the table in front of me and being blocked by the girl in front of me.

"Alright, let's do some reading and then I'll pass out a test, so just try your best, alright?" he said, before grabbing a stack of papers and handing them out.

Well, fuck.

I sat up straight in my chair and once I did so and Kit reached the back of the classroom, where I was sitting, he had spot me and done a double look as I looked away from him, awkwardly looking outside.

This was weird.

He reached me and left a test paper on my desk and then turned and walked back to the front of the classroom, I decided to just forget about it and open my book and turn to the page 674 in my book and keep my head down.

I knew this was awkward, not only for me but no doubt for him too, a student, a guy had kissed him but that wasn't the worst part, the worst part for me was that I didn't think it was bad.

I just really wanted to shut him up but I ended up liking it, even if I did kiss him for a split second, it wasn't as disgusting as I thought it would be, he had surprisingly soft lips.

The rest of class went on as normal, we did some stupid test that had something to do with the page on the book and after that he made us watch a boring documentary on the something that had nothing to do with science.

Senior year was too slack considering half of the seniors were completely stressed about college and what we were doing once we graduated, yet teachers and subs were just treating us like children, passing us tests and making us watch videos.

There was really nothing more else to do but wait, exams were over and we had weeks left before graduation.

When the class ended, I lifted my head from the table and wiped my mouth free of drool, I got up from my seat along with everyone else as the bell rang through the air and grabbed my bag.

Thinking it was a good idea at the time, was now the worst I had in a while, as students got out before me, I was the last one left to leave and with Kit standing near the door practically waiting for me, I felt my whole-body cold sweat.

"Do you have a minute, Jamie?" Kit asked, as I reached the classroom door. "I promise this won't take long," he added, smiling handsomely at me.

I knew what he was going to say, before he even said it and that's what made this even more awkward when he closed the door for privacy and then turned around to look at me.

"If this is about... Monday, I uh..." I start, swallowing hard, not sure exactly how to explain myself. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

I snap my eyes to his and frown.

What did he mean by 'why'?

"Huh?"

He shrugged and walked past me to grab his book on the table.

"Did you regret kissing me?" he asked, leaning against the desk with a playful smile on his lips.

"I... uh..." I was so confused.

"I don't understand," I said dumbly, making him stare at me, like he was trying to figure out something.

After an awkward moment of silence, Kit leans off the desk and stepped in front of me, until he was so close to me, I could smell the aftershave on him.

"I'm asking if you regret kissing me, Jamie or did you do it because you like me?" he asked, his voice low as his eyes searched mine.

I was speechless, after-all I half expected him to just drop it or call me out on it privately, I did not expect this reaction out of him, almost like he was asking for reasons unknown.

Why did I kiss him?

Because I wanted to?

To see how it felt?

Curious?

Fuck, I didn't know, now that I think about it, I don't understand what made me do it, he was close and something about him being close to me, made me feel strange in my body, like it moved on it's own.

Did I like him?

Not at all but yet, something about him did leave me curious.

"If you're not mad about it then can we just... drop it?" I force out, looking at him to see his brows raise slightly.

"What if I don't want to?"

"What?"

He kept moving forward, closer to me, until I eventually hit my back against the classroom door, with Kit hovering over me, his face close to mine.

"You're hard," he whispered, as I felt my body tingle as his breath hit my face.

I looked down, nervous, yet curious and when I saw that he was right, I was embarrassed that I didn't even notice and he did but even more embarrassed that I had no control over my body anymore.

Was he messing with me right now?

Or did he actually...

Kit pressed his chest against mine and leaned his head forward, his eyes on mine and his lips inches from mine and in that moment, I should've pushed him away but instead, curious to see what his game was, I held eye contact.

Just before our lips touch, someone knocked on the door behind me and made me jump and move away from him, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to calm myself down, turning around and trying to think of something disgusting as Kit unlocked the door to see who knocked.

"Oh, sorry I didn't realize this classroom was taken today," another teacher said, looking at me and smiling once I turned around.

"Oh, it's not," Kit said smiling, turning to me as I looked between the two teachers, wanting nothing more than to just leave this awkward situation.

"I should get to class..." I said looking at Kit, smiling weakly as I walked past him and the other teacher.

"Think about what we talked about, Jamie," Kit called out, smiling as the other teacher walked into the classroom.

I didn't say anything back as I turned around and just kept walking towards my next class, thinking of nothing but what just happened, as much as I tried to block it out.

All the way to my next class, I had to wonder what I was doing kissing him and what the hell he was doing not pushing me away when I pounced on him.

I didn't expect it to turn out like this.

Did he like me or something?

Or was he just messing with me?

Either way, I was in no position to act on what I was feeling or not feeling for this guy, another man, given how complicated my life was and how at any moment it could all blow up in not only my face but his if this 'kiss' got out.

I did not know how I felt about him or any of this, whilst I did not dislike what happened nor did I push him away, him as a person just annoyed me, yet I can't hide the way I felt when I was around him.

I was confused and struggling to understand any of this and in times like this I would usually talk to Evan, as he didn't get crazy like my mom or intimidating like my dad, it felt like I was talking to a close friend and he always said shit without thinking, the complete opposite of my parents.

Still, it was too soon, I needed to figure this out on my own before I asked for advice on men, given that Evan would love to have me come to him about 'relationships'.

For now, I just needed to get through the day and hope this day does not get any worse or complicating.