#i still keep in touch with one guy i know irl from that group and we never speak of it. the shame and cringe would kill us both instantly. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

duskholland · 4 years ago

Text

No Control || Frat!Tom Smut

summary ↠ tom can’t stop thinking about harrison’s girl, and it’s starting to become a problem. — in love with your best friend’s girl au. warnings ↠ this is fifty shades of morally-ambiguous grey, but I wouldn’t say it’s /too/ out there..?¿ there’s no actual infidelity but because of the au, there are themes of cheating, so avoid this if it’s a touchy subject for you. cw: a lot of alcohol, a ton of jealousy/possessiveness, heavy swearing, ongoing frat/party/bet culture, tom being a bad friend, harrison being a bad boyfriend, y/n being a bad girlfriend, and nsfw content. this contains smut! 18+ minors dni. word count↠ 17.6k. a/n ↠ please don’t do this irl, this is just fantasy !!!! y/n, tom and harrison are all flawed people, so please don’t go into this expecting them to all be perfect !!!! this was almost twenty thousand times more debased and fucked up, but I reeled it in last minute :’) that being said, this was still so much fun to write lmao. I listened to your girlfriend by blossoms + jessie’s girl pretty much on repeat as I wrote this! title is from 1d’s classic banger, which apparently influenced this more than I’d thought. thanks to all the anons who sent in ideas for this the other week!! a lot of them made it into this fic, so if you sent in a concept—thank you so much <3 I messed around with the pov so it flips halfway through! it should be obvious but I’m flagging it so you don’t think I went mad. hasn’t happened yet my lovelies but frat!tom does test me ! :’)) enjoy !!! <3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extended warnings ↠ masturbating (male), oral + fingering (fem receiving), protected mxf sex. possessiveness in the dirty talk. again, there is no infidelity but there is a lot of bad behaviour + boundary pushing <3

✧ *:･ﾟNo Control･ﾟ:*✧

Tom has seen a lot of pretty girls in his life, but tonight, he thinks that he’s seen an angel.

The frat is loud. The crowd is so thick he can barely breeze, and the fog machine has left a deep grey smog smothering the living room. Flashing strobe lights and the deep drums of bass cut through the air, but despite the way Tom’s head hurts, everything irritating fades as he looks across the room and sees a girl. You. You’re standing in the open doorway, leaning against one of the beams, a solo cup in one hand with the other resting on your waist.

He instantly knows that he wants you.

You’re in a red dress, with the flattering material clinging to your waist and shoulders. It draws Tom’s attention, but that’s quick to shift to your face as he watches you laugh at a joke made by one of your friends. He recognises a few of the people that you’re with from one of his lectures, but he’s almost certain he’s never seen you before. He’d definitely remember.

“Bro? What’s up?” Harrison is behind him, Tom’s best mate. They’ve been friends since high school, and when Tom had decided to up sticks and move across the ocean to a college in America, Harrison had followed. He’s good like that. “You’re just staring at the wall. Look like a proper tosser.”

Tom scowls as he drags his eyes away from you, directing all of his most scathing anger at Harrison. The blond is smirking. Perched on top of his head is a black SnapBack, printed with the frat’s logo. It matches the one that Tom’s wearing, just Tom has it pulled on backwards. He’s the only member of the frat that wears it like that, and it’s become an unofficial declaration of his status.

For the last year, Tom has held the revered position of president of the frat. It’s a lot harder than he’d thought it’d be, but it comes with perks. Several perks.

“I’m looking,” Tom replies, crossing his arms.

“At what?”

Discreetly, Tom brings his cup to his lips and uses his index finger to sneakily point across the room. He leads Harrison to you.

“That girl,” he says slowly. “Do you know who she is? Who invited her?”

Tom prides himself on knowing most people on campus—or, at least, anyone he needs to know. Anyone involved in Greek life or the party scene at his college has a face burned to his memory, and he prides himself on recognising matching names too. A lot of power comes with being able to immediately recognise someone. It makes him likeable, and he feels good knowing that someone feels appreciated by him.

“Dunno,” Haz mutters. He squints his eyes as he looks at you too. “She’s with Tyra. Maybe they’re friends?”

Tom scoffs. “Well, I’d guess that, yeah.”

“Are you going to do anything, or continue to stare like a creep?”

After taking a final swig of his drink, Tom pushes the empty plastic cup into Harrison’s hands. His mate thumps him on the back.

“I’ll be back,” he mutters. Then Tom pauses and throws out an easy smile. “Or not. Depends.”

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Go on.”

“See ya, mate.”

As Tom walks across the crowded room, he tries to hold himself a little straighter. He’s dressed simply tonight, in an all-black combination of t-shirt and jeans, but the gold chain he has around his neck adds a little depth. Around his wrist is his watch, and it glints as Tom reaches up to briefly whip off his hat and tousle his hair. His eyes are fixed firmly on you, and he finds himself grinning when you see him.

You’re even more radiant up close. Your eyes are a beautiful shade, and they fill with curiosity as you look Tom up and down. An expression of intrigue passes over your features as you mutter something to a friend and push away from the doorframe, being pulled to Tom as if by an unseen gravitational force.

“Hi, darling,” Tom leads with, keeping his voice cool. When you step closer, he meets you, easily and lightly pressing his hands to your waist as he kisses your cheek. “I’m Tom.”

You give him a wry smile. “I know who you are,” you reply. Your eyes are fluttering all over his face, and your hips feel soft beneath his hands. “Y/N.”

Tom likes how your voice sounds.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he responds easily. He crosses his arms, angling them in a way that makes his muscles bulge. “I’ve not seen you around here before.”

There’s a shyness to your gaze that makes Tom smile wider, and he watches as you fiddle with your hair and tentatively meet his gaze.

“Do you know everyone that comes to your parties, Tom?”

“Yeah.” Tom slips his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Or, at least, I try to. I know I’d definitely remember someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” You’re speaking louder now, emboldened by how fully Tom’s giving you his attention. All around you, there are people looking, people whispering. Everywhere Tom goes, he garners attention.

Tom offers you an easy smile, tilting his head to the side as he nods. Sometimes he likes to play it cool and keep his cards close to his chest, but he doesn’t think you’d like that. He doesn’t think the chase is necessary. You’re looking at him with round, inquisitive eyes, and your gaze keeps circling back to his mouth.

“You’re stunning, love,” he says. “Do you want to dance with me?”

You reach out and take his hand, and Tom feels a jolt of warmth trail up his spine. It confuses him. He’s pursued a lot of girls in his life, and he’s felt attraction plenty of times before, but he’s never had his heart ache quite like that from just one touch. As you run your thumb over the back of his hand, you look up at him from beneath your lashes.

“A dance? With the president of the frat?” you tease. As Tom chuckles, you smile cheekily. “I dunno. What can you give me in return, if I give you what you want?”

“Oh, a businesswoman,” he teases. “I see how it is.”

You smirk. “Business major,” you supply.

Tom arches his brows. “I’m a business major.”

“I know. We’re in the same class.”

For a few minutes, you slip into conversation about your course. Tom learns that you share the same 9am every Monday morning—a class that he only managed to make it to the first week of term. You don’t linger on the topic of academics for too long, though. It doesn’t take much before Tom’s got you in the back corner of the room where it’s quieter, listening to you reel off your first impressions of the frat. You keep your hands on his shoulders, slowly but purposefully rolling your fingers over his shirt, keeping him on his feet as he catches a whiff of your peach perfume every time you move closer.

He almost gets his dance, but then there’s a tap on his shoulder, and it’s one of his brothers, whispering about an incident on the patio involving a table and the pool. Tom grimaces and reluctantly casts his eyes back to you.

“I need to go and sort this out,” he mutters, frustrated. You shrug, biting your lip as you rock back on your heels. “Will I see you later?”

“I don’t know. Will you?”

Tom smiles. “I will,” he promises. Wanting to give a lasting impression, he easily swoops his hand up to cup your cheek. When he receives a nod of approval, he leans in and deposits a lingering kiss to your forehead, inhaling a deep breath of your shampoo and feeling the tip of his nose tingle in response. You cling to his arms a little tighter, and when Tom goes to pull away, he isn’t able to until you’ve kissed his cheek.

“Have fun,” you say, stepping back.

“Thanks, darling.” Tom gives you a final look, his insides debating whether or not he really needs to go deal with the issue. When there’s a loud shout from out on the patio, he sighs. “Take care.”

Even when he’s out on the terrace, you stay on Tom’s mind. As he oversees two of the guys pulling the table out of the pool, he replays his interaction, mind swirling over your face, your figure, your voice. He finds himself scratching at his chin, not entirely present. After a while, he ends up back in the house, huddled with a group of the guys, and it isn’t until someone pushes Harrison forward that Tom truly comes back into the room.

“How long has it been, man?” Jacob, one of the guys, and one of Tom’s American friends, is grinning at Harrison. The man is standing in the middle of the group, bashful cheeks a light pink.

“Eh… a couple weeks,” Harrison supplies.

“Bullshit,” Tom adds, chuckling when Harrison flips him off. “Haz hasn’t got laid in months.”

“Fuck off,” Harrison mutters. “Not all of us are as...promiscuous as you, Tom.”

Tom shrugs. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

Harrison pauses, stroking his chin. “Dunno,” he finally decides.

Tom rolls his eyes. “We’ll wingman you,” he decides. He looks around at a few of the other guys and doesn’t stop until they’re all nodding and making similar sounds of agreement. “Anyone you like the look of tonight?”

Haz hesitates but eventually shakes his head. “Nah. Haven’t seen who’s around.”

“Alright.” Tom presses his palms together, an idea forming. “Next girl that walks into the room, we’ll set you up with.”

Harrison hesitates. “But what if she’s taken?”

Jacob steps forward, smirking. “The next single girl who walks into this room,” he clarifies. He holds out a hand and raises a brow. “Bet?”

Harrison looks down at Jacob’s hand. A bet, like the one he’s referring to, may as well be as binding as a contract. There’s no going back. He looks to Tom, a little nervous, but the fear vanishes when Tom nods.

“Alright.” Harrison does the frat handshake, and the guys around them all holler. Tom makes his own loud sound of support, grinning widely. “We’ll do it.”

They have to wait for a while. The first few girls that walk in are all accompanied by partners. Tom’s starting to get tetchy and he knows Harrison is too, but as soon as that thought crosses his mind, the universe decides to throw a curveball right into his face.

You walk in.

“Oh, shit,” Jacob says. He elbows Harrison. “There you go.”

Harrison immediately looks at Tom. “Uh… Isn’t she…?”

Tom sucks in a hard breath, the sound sticking behind his teeth. “Yep.” He looks at Harrison, who’s looking particularly deflated.

For a moment, Tom thinks about Haz and everything that he’s done to support him. Harrison flew across oceans to stay with Tom, moved into the frat with him, operates as his right-hand man. He’s his golf buddy, his gym partner, his best mate. For Haz to go back on such a public bet would be the same as resigning himself to social humiliation, and Tom would be a terrible friend for making him do that. Tom can give him this.

Right?

“I don’t need to—”

“Nah.” Tom decides to step up. “It’s a bet. It’s fine.”

Harrison grimaces. “Are you sure?”

Tom feels like a petulant child. Now he’s agreed to it, he feels his stomach rebelling. You find yourself at the centre of his attention again as he looks back over, instantly regretting it as the action connects your eyes with his. His breathing catches as your lips pull into an eager smile.

But Tom pushes through it. He looks away and stares at the floor as he nods, strengthening his attitude as he reaches out to smack Harrison on the back.

“Yep. Go for it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

He can barely watch as his guys approach you, and Tom decides to stay back in the corner of the room. It’s clear that you’re confused at first, but through quick discreet glances, Tom watches as you start to talk with Harrison. When Tom gets approached by another girl, you start to speak with Haz more freely, and he assumes that you’ve forgotten all about your conversation from earlier. When Jacob and the others split off, leaving you and Harrison alone in the back corner, Tom has to leave the room.

For a while, Tom drinks. He does a couple of shots out on the patio and chats with a few girls, and eventually, he’s pulled back inside the house. He ends up in the large living room, where the main party is happening, and it seems that you and Harrison have taken it to the next level in his absence.

Tom’s lips curve into a scowl as he looks across the room and sees you, wrapped up in Harrison. The blond’s hands roam all over you, moving from your cheeks, shifting back into your hair before curving down your figure. Tom can barely keep watching as Harrison’s palms curl around your waist and go down to squeeze your ass, and he swears he can almost hear the breathless moan you deposit into the air in response.

He looks away when Harrison starts to nibble at your neck and you toss your head back in pleasure, but Tom can’t stop himself from stealing quick glances every few seconds. In the pit of his stomach lies a terrible beast, acidic and possessive, clawing at his heart. There’s a tenseness to his jaw that he can’t quite shake, even when Tom tosses the remnants of the shit beer down his throat. There are easily a hundred people in the room with him, but he doesn’t care about a single one of them. The only one he cares about is you.

After a few moments of his eyes dissecting the contours of your face, Tom feels someone wrap their arms around his waist. He stiffens, turning his head and looking around until he finds himself staring at the face of a girl from his accounting course. She’s pretty, wearing silver eyeshadow, and Tom thinks that her name is Sasha.

“Hey, Tommy,” she greets. Her perfume smells overpowering and it makes Tom grimace. “Wanna dance with me?”

Tom looks back across the room, his stomach turning as he sees Harrison has pulled you down onto a sofa with him. As you straddle his lips and continue to kiss him, his blood runs hot.

“Fuck yeah, darling,” he mutters. Tom reaches out and wraps an arm around the girl, pulling her closer and letting his eyes fall shut as her lips find their way to his neck. “Let’s dance.”

He doesn’t need you. He barely fucking knows you. Tom has met a thousand girls, and it feels as though he’s kissed as many. The only things he knows about you are inconsequential—who cares if you smell like peaches and wear a glossy lip balm? Who gives a fuck that your voice sounds like a pretty wind-chime. Not Tom, that’s for sure. Tom’s got another girl kissing him and tugging on his hair. He doesn’t need you.

So why can’t he stop thinking about you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The pillow that Tom has wedged over his head makes his ears ache and does nothing to obscure the sounds drifting into his room, so after a few moments of failed silence, he throws it aside. A loud huff passes by his lips.

It’s been a month since the party, and every Sunday morning since, without fail, he’s been woken by the sounds of your moans. Harrison’s room is right next door, and though he’d always complained to Tom that the walls are thin, Tom had never been the one on the receiving end like this. It’s always been Tom having lazy post-party sex with a random girl, or Tom taking a girl into the shower room and locking out his brothers all morning. Now it’s Harrison, making noise with you, and suddenly it’s not just the fact that he’s not had sex in four weeks that’s getting on his nerves.

Your moans are loud as they catch in the back of your throat, and they make Tom hard. He grumbles as he reaches down, hands dipping beneath the covers as he pushes a palm beneath his boxers. A softened groan passes past his lips as he pulls out his cock, pausing only to bring his hand back to his lips and spit on it before he starts to jerk off.

Tom had gotten over the guilt of getting off to you without your knowledge two weeks ago. For all he knows, you know that he can hear you, and you’re being so loud for him. He’s learnt that you’re cheeky like that, and the thought makes Tom tug his cock a little harder. Harrison’s bed is squeaky, and he can only imagine that you’re riding him. Tom bites back a moan as he imagines how pretty you must look on top.

He’s spent more time with you now, since that party, and it hasn’t helped his predicament at all. Every time he runs into you, you seem to grow hotter, and his attraction for you only burns brighter when he sees Haz grab your hand or kiss your lips. What had started as a bet for one night together has escalated, and now you’re both dating. Tom doesn’t think that he’s a bad person, nor would he ever say he’s a bad friend, but you’ve become his forbidden fruit.

Maybe it’s the fact that he can’t have you that makes Tom so incensed. He’s never been denied like this—been blocked so unscrupulously and irritatingly. Whilst you aren’t official with Harrison, Tom knows that his mate likes you. Hell, he can hear how much he likes you, right now, as Haz’s bed continues to squeak and your moans rise in volume.

Tom thinks he could get you to moan louder.

It takes an embarrassing two-minute window before Tom’s biting back a yell of your name, cumming in sync with a set of particularly loud whines that you emit next-door. He falls back onto the mattress, his clean hand going up to card through his curls as he tries to catch his breath. For a few moments, he lays there, scowling up at the ceiling as he tries to bathe in the afterglow of release, but it goes crashing down again when he hears your light giggles followed by Harrison’s deep guffaws.

Tom practically storms out of bed, wiping at his hand with some tissues before he stamps into a pair of grey joggers and leaves his room, slamming the door loudly in his wake. He hopes the sound scares Harrison so much he falls off his fucking bed.

The bad mood continues, even after Tom’s leapt through the shower and scrubbed at his ears. He ends up in the frat’s kitchen, the wide space still partially littered with solo cups and discarded bags of crisps from the party the night before. There are a few junior members of the frat hobbling around with black bin bags, looking pale and peaky. When they see Tom, they try and pretend they’re not hungover, and their act of skittish admiration is enough to make him feel a little better.

He’s just starting to assemble a protein shake when the air in the kitchen changes. Tom finds his eyes drifting towards the door, just in time to watch you walk in. The sun seems to follow you as you stroll into the kitchen, one hand at your side as the other plays with the tips of your hair, a relaxed smile on your face. As you look around the room and take stock of the several fratboys sitting on random pieces of furniture, your smile draws shyer, and Tom watches you glance down at your feet as you hurry towards the counters to where he is. You catch his eye, a blinding smile unfurling across your lips as you raise a hand in greeting.

As you sweep close, Tom blinks himself out of his stupor. He swallows down the lump in his throat as he steps forward to kiss your cheek, his hands falling onto your shoulders. When you step away, he takes in your outfit. Your legs are mostly bare, but you’re in a pair of shorts with an oversized grey t-shirt slouched on top of you. Tom’s eager eyes dip down, caressing your chest until they find the pointed tips of your nipples, straining against the fabric.

He clears his throat as he feels his cock prick to life.

“Morning, darling,” he manages, immediately turning around and facing the counter. He uses the smoothie as a pretence, but really he doesn’t want you to see the building bulge between his legs.

You seem to be oblivious, and Tom sucks in a breath as you step close. You place your chin on his shoulder and peer over it, comfortably leaning into him, and he swears he can feel your tits brushing up against his bare spine.

“Morning, Tom,” you greet, voice raspy and pure. “How’s your hangover?”

Tom chuckles, focusing very intently on ignoring the way your minty breath fans out across his cheek. You’ve got your arms wrapped loosely around him, hugging him easily and comfortably. He’d never complain that you’re at ease around him, but it doesn’t help his boner.

“Fine,” he responds, playing it cool. “I’m a pro at this, darling. Can’t remember the last time I had a hangover.”

You snort, and despite the loud volume, Tom thinks it’s a beautiful sound.

“You’re so fucking cocky,” you murmur, voice vibrating straight into his ear. “I feel like I’m going to die. Head’s killing me.”

Tom coos. He spends a moment violently mixing some green protein powder into the rest of his smoothie, then reaches up and rummages through a cupboard. When he procures a packet of painkillers, you release a deep sound of relief and finally step back.

“There you go, love,” he mutters. He makes sure to brush your hand with his as he passes it to you, smirking slightly when you jump. A lot of the time, Tom thinks his attraction to you is one-sided, but then something like this happens and casts doubt on that assessment. Neither of you has mentioned the night that you met, and sometimes he wonders if he should bring it up.

Tired and slightly delirious, Tom decides to test the waters. Just for fun, because he can, and because he likes the thought of making you flustered. He knows that his reputation precedes him and that you probably buy into the idea that he’s a flirt as much as everyone else does. If you respond badly, he’ll just blame it on his naturally charming disposition, and if Haz takes issue with it, well… Tom will just bring up the many red marks on his ledger.

“Thanks, Tom,” you say. He watches you rummage through a cupboard and pull out a glass, and his eyes follow your legs as you lean over the sink to get water and the hem of the shirt rides up.

“You know you’re fucking stunning, yeah?” Tom says before he can second-guess his plan.

You freeze, the waterline in your glass threatening to spill as you try to process his words. When you look back, there’s an expression of curious bewilderment on your face.

“What?”

Tom, his boner finally soft again, turns around to face you properly. He brings his arms over his chest, smirking wider as he watches you look at the curves of his biceps. He’s shirtless, and he knows the hours he’s spent in the yard doing weights with Haz shows in the firm definition of his abs and pecs. You seem to enjoy looking at him.

“You look hot.” Tom watches your face very carefully, not wanting to cross too many lines. “I bet Harrison told you that though, this morning.”

Something shifts on your face, and you bite your lip. “Well…”

“Well?”

“Harrison doesn’t say much in the mornings. Or, well, ever.” You pause, a deep line carving between your troubled brows. “He isn’t very vocal.”

Tom hums, stepping a little closer. “Harrison is good at a lot of things, but he has certain shortcomings.”

You lick your lower lip, and Tom’s gaze lingers on the glistening trail of your saliva.

“Like what?”

Tom makes a non-committal noise and pauses to take a sip of his smoothie.

“Well, you know. He’s very intense. He doesn’t always see what’s right in front of him.”

You raise an amused eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be friends?”

“We are. He’s my best mate. But that doesn’t mean I can’t criticise him for acting carelessly.” Tom drops his voice, letting you see the way he checks you out. “I just think that he doesn’t appreciate how lucky he is sometimes.”

You turn away, breaking eye contact as you take your pills. As you hum a soft tune, you pick up the kettle and fill it up, only looking back to Tom when it’s been plugged in and starting to boil.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” you reply, voice curious. You step closer until you’re standing in front of Tom, your eyes again going to his bare chest. “What does Harrison have that you don’t think he appreciates enough?” The suggestive look in your eyes matches the seductive inflexion in your voice, and Tom feels a shiver pass down his spine.

He plays it off coolly, shrugging slightly. “I’m just saying, darling, that if I had the honour of waking up beside someone as beautiful as you, I wouldn’t let you out of my sights all morning.” Tom reaches out slowly, gently letting his fingers bridge the gap between you as he toys with the hem of your shirt. You move closer, subtly encouraging him to continue, so Tom lets his hands shift up to hold your waist, feeling your curious eyes on him the whole time. “What was he thinking, eh? Letting such a lovely lady leave his bed. Crazy.”

You chuckle, a bashful smile on your face as you gnaw your lower lip. “Well, he wanted tea.”

Tom hums. “And I think that that’s bullshit.” He pauses suddenly, eyebrows raising as he finally looks away from your face and finds his gaze sticking on an emblem branded to your big t-shirt. A deep chuckle vibrates through his chest. Of fucking course. “You know what this is, love?” he asks, tugging at your shirt. When you shake your head, he grins. “Boyfriend material.”

Your reaction is immediate: soft frown, arched brows, confused stare.

“Harrison is not my boyfriend,” you say.

Tom clicks his tongue. “Never said he was.” He rolls his hands up your sides, gently caressing your warm figure. Though he wants to run his palms higher to your chest, he stops himself. “This is my shirt, babe. Laundry gets them mixed up all the time, but it’s mine.”

Your lips part and you look between Tom and your shirt with horror in your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you murmur. Immediately, your hands fly down to the hem. “Do you want me to take it off?”

He shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “As much as I’m sure I’d like that, there are too many other people in here.” He feels jealous again just thinking about it.

You nod, pausing the movement after a second as your eyes narrow. “Wait, how do you even know? It’s just a plain t-shirt?”

“What, you think I’m making this up?” Tom’s smirking again, and it widens as you fluster. “‘S alright, love.” He reaches up and points at the emblem which marks an event from rush week last year. “Logo,” he states. “And… I think you’ll find if we take a look at the label on the back, it’s got my name on it.”

You let him manhandle you, melting back into his hold as Tom stands forward and turns you around. He brushes your hair out of the way and reaches up, gracing his fingers over your spine as he delicately pulls out the back label. You won’t be able to see it, but it fills him with smugness to see his initials stained stark against the label: TSH.

“Well… I’m sorry, anyway.” Your voice is hoarse, light and feathery as if you’re holding your breath. Tom lets his hand rest on your shoulder after he’s tucked the label back. He’d move away, but you’re leaning into him completely, your hands grasping at the palm that he has curled around your stomach. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

Tom leans down, and in a bold move, very gently kisses the base of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm beneath his lips, and the breathless gasp you release is just as sweet.

“It’s okay,” he rumbles. He pauses, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales your peachy scent. “Feel free to use it any time you’d like.”

Not wanting to push too hard, Tom leaves a final, wetter kiss to the bottom of your neck before moving back, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and repositioning his hands back on the counter. He leans against the wooden cabinets, wondering if you’d been able to feel his hard-on that’d peskily bounced back when he’d heard your whimper.

If you feel anything, you don’t say anything. In fact, you’re quiet as you step to the side and pour out the boiled water into two mugs. “Thanks,” you say, speaking through the steam. You glance back to Tom, and he swears your eyes are darker. “It’s soft.”

Tom sips his smoothie, eyeing you over the brim as you poke at a tea bag with a metal teaspoon.

“Fabric softener,” he says, nodding slightly. His brain is running slow, still caught up on how nice it’d felt to kiss your neck. “It suits you.”

You throw him another shy smile. “How does Haz take his tea again? No sugar, yeah?”

Tom bites his lip. “Wrong,” he lies. “Haz likes three sugars. Don’t be afraid to put in a little more, though.”

You eye him sceptically. “I don’t think that’s right.”

“He is my best friend, love,” Tom says. He hides his mischievous grin behind his smoothie, and he watches you roll your eyes. “Listen, if he’s got a problem with it, he can take it up with me or he can come and make his own cup of sodding tea. Lazy bastard.”

You snort, and Tom feels his stomach turn as he watches you spoon three teaspoons into Haz’s mug.

“Well, I’ll let you know what he says,” you mutter. Finally, you pick up the mugs in your hands and walk forward, pausing in front of Tom. Your eyes skim his figure again, briefly zeroing in on his chest before caressing the fine lines of his lips. “Thanks for keeping me company. This was fun.”

Tom nods and steps forward to kiss your cheek. He hopes you can feel how desperately he wants to press his lips to yours.

“Any time, darling,” he assures. “If you ever need anything, you know where I am, yeah?” He lets his teeth brush your earlobe as he pulls back slowly, smiling to himself when he sees you shiver.

“Yeah,” you murmur. You swallow deeply, and your eyes hold his gaze for one moment longer before you tear them away. “Have a nice morning, Tom.”

Tom watches you walk across the kitchen, almost stumbling when you get distracted trying to look over your shoulder back at him. He smirks, raising a few fingers in a lazy wave.

“See ya!” he calls back.

His blood doesn’t stop pumping until you’re all the way out of sight, and even after that, he knows the only way he’ll be able to properly shake you is by attending to his hard-on. Again.

You’re like a shadow that won’t stop chasing him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The party is in full swing, and Tom feels like a king.

There are several benefits to parading the title of president of the frat. Tom gets the largest room in the house, along with an ensuite. He’s able to prioritise himself on the gym schedule and the cleaning rota. Every party, he’s looked up to, treated like royalty, his every wish and command carried out by his brothers. If he doesn’t like a song, it’s changed. All it takes is one arched brow in the direction of a partygoer, and they’re ejected from the house. The beer is his favourite make, and everyone loves him.

Tom has the whole world in his hands, which is why it’s incredibly infuriating that his kingdom tonight isn’t ordered how he’d like it.

It’s two months into the semester, and the buzz that’d characterised earlier parties has faded. Finals are coming up soon, so maybe that’s why Tom feels unsettled. Or, maybe it’s the fact that the music isn’t hitting quite as well as usual. It could be that he hasn’t tied his shoes as tightly as he normally does, or maybe that the vibe within the house is just...off.

But Tom knows exactly what the problem is if he brings himself to think about it. He’s tried drowning his ugly feelings in cheap beer, but there’s no denying it: his mood had taken a significant plummet when he’d glanced across the room and seen Harrison with his hands all over you, your lips locked together. The shard of jealousy that had lodged itself in the warm precipice of his heart is unshakeable, and there’s a horrible bitter taste on his tongue.

Tom is so fucking jealous that he’s about two seconds away from pointing at the couple and getting someone to kick you out.

“Bro. Bro. The fuck is wrong with you, man?”

It’s probably a good thing that Tom’s been interrupted, as he’s fairly sure there’s enough poison in his gaze to burn off a large patch of Harrison’s hair. He shakes a grimace over his lips as he looks to the side, eyes falling to his friend, Jacob. Jacob’s in a loose Hawaiian shirt, the red and white pattern glowing under the luminescence of the UV lights.

“What?” Tom says, playing it cool. He takes another drink, shuddering slightly as he lets the alcohol ease him.

“You look like you want to beat someone up.” Jacob squints, trying to look in the direction that Tom knows he’d been staring in. “I only see Haz. Are you guys, like… Good?”

Tom releases a short bark. “‘Course, man,” he says, voice lifting lighter. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Jacob scoffs. It’s loud in the crowded living room, but Tom can feel the undertones. “Uh, we all know about the bet. We all also know that you’d had your eyes on Y/N before Haz pulled her.” He pauses, wiggling his brows until Tom punches his arm and scowls. “I’m just sayin’... Seems like you have some unresolved shit going on.”

Tom doesn’t deem him with a response, not knowing where to start with that. It’s Saturday night. The last thing he wants to do is talk about this. He already drives himself mad every other day of the week as he ponders this particular puzzle.

“We need to get the energy up,” Tom mutters. He spins around, beckoning over a few of his friends with his hands. Someone gives him a shot, and he downs it before looking back at Jacob. “We’ll do a game or something. Get people. We’ll do it on the patio.”

Ten minutes later, there’s an assembly of partygoers on the terrace at the back of the house. It’s a mix of sorority girls, jocks, and fratbros, but Tom doesn’t pay them much attention as he claims his spot on a rickety canvas camping chair and sits back. He lets Jacob take the lead, doing another two shots when he sees you and Haz join the circle.

You’re in a black dress tonight, the material skimming just above your knees. As you walk out onto the patio, the midnight breeze swishes the hem up a little, and Tom watches as you giggle and drop Haz’s hand to smooth it down. Harrison presses an easy kiss to your cheek, and the smile on your face builds. It freezes when you spot Tom, your eyes darkening as your teeth dig into the pink flesh of your lower lip. Tom raises a brow, watching you stand a little straighter as your gaze runs over his form, lingering on the golden chain he’d pulled on earlier.

The spell breaks when Harrison sits on a chair and tugs you down with him, an expression of irritation briefly souring your angelic face before you smooth it back. Tom doesn’t look away until Jacob starts to speak.

“Spin the bottle,” Jacob announces, looking around at each person. There are a few groans, but they’re drowned out by the cheers. Tom just rolls his eyes, sitting back and briefly surveying the circle. He’s pretty sure he’s pulled at least five of the girls already, and the rest of them seem fine, too. Obviously, there’s only one person he’d want the spin to land on, but he’s already accepted that the universe isn’t on his side when it comes to you.

A few rounds pass. Tom isn’t really paying attention until the neck of the bottle lands on him and he has to kiss a girl from his psychology class. It’s a quick kiss, and her lip gloss makes his mouth tingle, but Tom only realises how hammered he is when he has to sit up from his chair and lean over to spin the bottle.

Tom looks around the circle as his fingers ponder the glass, grasping the attention of the group like he’s holding court. He looks at you and finds you looking at him, your lower lip held between your teeth as Harrison rubs your arm. Haz has you in his lap, your legs thrown across his thighs as you sit on him sideways. Harrison’s blond curls rest up against the side of your face, and Tom has to look away as he grimaces.

The bottle spins. It clatters quickly over the paving stone, hurtling with an angry force that Tom hadn’t entirely intended to use. He holds his breath, his eyes widening as it stops. Pointing at you.

“Looks like that’s Y/N,” Jacob announces.

Tom sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at Harrison. His mate’s eyes have lost their charm, a deep frown settled on his face. Tom thinks he looks exactly like the tough-faced models from Vogue with that mardy scowl on his face. He raises a brow, as if to say, up to you, and watches as you turn in Harrison’s lap and whisper something into his ear.

A moment passes, and Tom’s surprised when Haz nods and pushes you up from his lap. He meets Tom’s eyes, giving him another smaller nod, and Tom sits back, pleasantly resigned to the fact that Harrison isn’t going to ruin the game.

“Hi,” you greet as you approach him, smiling.

Tom reaches out, offering you his hands as you finish treading over the collection of limbs and shoes that crowd the patio. Your fingers are so soft in his.

“Hi, darling,” he responds. Tom feels hot, everywhere, and he hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “You look stunning,” he adds, voice quieter.

“Thanks.”

You hesitate, eyeing him up and down as if trying to assess the best way to kiss him. The girl he’d just kissed had bent over to press her lips to his, and as Tom remembers this, he drops one of your hands and reaches up and wipes his mouth again, trying to eradicate all traces of her lips. When he’s achieved this, he tentatively reaches up and presses the palm to your waist. Respectfully, of course. There are a lot of people watching.

You seem to be less reluctant to indulge, and Tom feels his eyes widen as you step forward and sink into his lap, your knees bending as you press your shins into the canvas of the camping chair on either side of Tom’s thighs. Suddenly your face is hanging in front of his, warm breath coming out over his face, and Tom has just enough time to wonder why your breath smells of pineapples before you’re leaning in.

He kisses you, and for a few seconds, he’s frozen. Everything that he’s learnt at the frat and over the course of his college life goes flying out the window, and he’s left feeling like a kid again. The background noise filters out, and all he can focus on is the weight of your body pressing into his legs and the feeling of your lips, soft and silky, moving over his. When you reach up to weave a hand into his hair, he comes back around, the roar of the party filling his ears as an adrenaline rush floods his chest.

Tom knows this will probably be his only chance to kiss you, so he leaves nothing behind. He brings both hands to your waist, urging you closer as he recovers his charm and kisses you properly. His tongue works into your open mouth, pressing against you and exploring the sweet space of your lips as you moan into him. He feels your fingers drift down, one of your hands staying bedded in his curls as the other plays with his chain. Never before has Tom felt so consumed by a kiss, and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t hesitate to reach around and grab handfuls of your skin, wouldn’t hold back his kisses, or his moans, or his coos of praising endearment. He’d give you everything.

When you pull back, your nose brushes up against his, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the world.

“How was that?” you ask, voice quiet. There’s a shyness to your disposition, a nervousness as you meet his eyes.

Tom reaches up, holding your cheek and brushing his thumb across your chin. He tidies up your smudged lipstick as he squeezes your waist.

“Perfect,” he replies, voice low. He can feel Harrison staring at him, but he doesn’t give a fuck. “You’re… You’re incredible, darling.”

You sit a little taller, looking proud of yourself. “Well, now I understand what all the hype is about,” you mutter. “You’re a good kisser. A really good kisser.” You pause as a shiver works its way down your spine, and Tom glances at your bare arms.

“Here,” he mutters. When you stand from his lap, he’s glad his jeans have some wiggle room so his raging boner is less obvious. Tom’s quick to shrug off his jacket, and he passes it up to you without a second thought. “Don’t freeze,” he says, wagging a finger at you.

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you can.”

You bite your lip. “Won’t you be cold?”

Tom just flexes his biceps, smirking again as he sees you checking out his muscles. “Got these bad boys to keep me warm,” he teases, pointing at his guns. He softens, just for a moment. “It’s fine. Said you could always use my stuff, didn’t I?”

You look flustered, opening and then immediately closing your mouth before turning around and making your way back over to Harrison. Tom sits back in his chair, trying halfheartedly to suppress the smirk that continues to hold his lips as he admires how nice his jacket looks draped loosely across your shoulders. You always wear his clothes so well.

Tom looks at Jacob, who shakes his head in response. Then he looks at Harrison, and he can’t stop himself from laughing. Harrison’s a shade of salmon pink, and it only softens out a little bit when you settle back into his lap and kiss his cheek. Tom watches Harrison flip him off then pull you closer and kiss you harshly, and messily. You don’t seem as into it as you’d been with Tom, he realises. You’re holding back, grimacing slightly as Harrison pulls back a triumphant moment later.

The game concludes a while later, but Tom stays out on the patio, feeling dizzier by the second. The camping chair is comfortable, and the chill in the air helps him feel soberer. Whilst Tom doesn’t regret the multiple cups of beer and several shots, he does consider that he might’ve gone a little too far in his efforts to forget about you.

You’re gone, now. Out of sight, back in the party. Tom’s making light conversation with a few of the guys still left in the circle, but they clear out when a shadowy presence falls across the patio. It doesn’t take long for Tom to realise it’s Harrison, and he tries his best to sit up straight and look less smug as Harrison drags a chair over and places it opposite Tom.

Harrison stares at him, hard. He’s in a matching snapback and a loose white t-shirt, his ring glinting as he crosses his fingers and examines Tom’s face.

“So…” Tom starts, disliking how charged the air is. “Y’alright, Haz?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tom,” Harrison says instead. When Tom pulls a face, he sharpens his gaze. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tom chuckles. He’s feeling drunk and annoying. “Well, that’s a bit of an unspecific question, Harrison. There are many things that you might say are wrong with me—”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Harrison breaks off, sighing loudly as he flops back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. He looks smaller, nervous. “Do you have a thing for my girl?”

Instinctively, Tom shakes his head. “Y/N?” he says dumbly. When Harrison nods, Tom hums. “Is she your girl?”

Harrison flounders for a moment. “I mean… Technically no, but we’ve been hooking up for two months.” He pauses, grimacing. “Look, mate. I know I fucked it when we met her. I knew you wanted her, and I still took on the bet. But I really fucking like her now, and… And…”

“And?”

“If you decide that you want her, you’ll get her. You always do.” Harrison grumbles as he crosses his arms. “Can I not have one thing? Just one.”

“You do know that Y/N is perfectly capable of making her own decisions, yeah?” Tom says, only slurring slightly.

“Oh, yeah. Of course, of course.” Harrison’s bobbing his head almost comically. “But still… Do you know what I mean?”

Tom closes his eyes for a few moments, the patio spinning. He speaks through gritted teeth. “Haz, I love you, man. You know what I’m like. I’m a flirt.” He cracks open an eye and gives Harrison a dopey smile, and the next words he speaks are the truth. “I wouldn’t seriously try to steal your girl, alright? I wouldn’t sleep with her if you guys have a thing. We were just playing the game.”

Harrison releases a deep breath. “Thanks, man, I—”

“Wait.” Tom feels bolder. “You do need to tell her, though.”

“Tell her what?”

Tom narrows his eyes. “You know what,” he says, speaking to a very sheepish-looking Harrison. “She’d want to know that your relationship is built from a bet. If you… If you seriously think that you’re g’nna have a fucking relationship with her, she needs honesty.” Just the thought of you and Harrison going official makes him feel sick.

“No way.” Harrison’s curls go flying as he shakes his head. “Fuck that. Are you mad? She’d break it off.”

Tom grimaces and looks away from Harrison. “I’m just saying,” he mutters. “You shouldn’t lie to the people you care about.”

It’s rich coming from him, but Tom knows that nothing he’s said has been a lie. He won’t sleep with you if you’re still with Haz. Maybe he’d try to break you both up, but he wouldn’t purposefully sleep with someone in a relationship. Logistically, he doesn’t think he’d be able to, even if he wanted to, because despite the tantalising banter he’s able to carry out with you, you’re a good person. You’d never cheat on Harrison.

“Yeah.” Harrison looks guilty now. “I guess.” His eyes shift away from Tom, falling to someone else. Tom startles when he feels two hands come down to rest on his shoulders, and glances down, only relaxing when he recognises the silver rings curled around your fingers.

As if a deity, you’ve appeared, just when Tom was thinking about you. He wonders if it’ll always work like this.

“Hi,” you greet, looking first to Harrison, then Tom. “What are you guys talking about?”

You’re standing behind his chair, perfume light and peachy. When Tom cranes his head back, your perfect face blurs.

“Nothin’,” he murmurs, a sleepy grin on his lips.

You chuckle. “How drunk are you right now?” you ask.

Tom makes a non-committal sound. “I don’t want to stand up and find out,” he admits. “So I’m just going to stay here until I get sober.”

“What if it rains?”

“Well, I guess I’ll get wet.” He reaches back and grabs lightly at his jacket, still covering your upper half. “Some thief ran off with my jacket.”

You snort, then pat his shoulders before walking around to the front of his chair. You offer him your hands, and Tom takes them easily.

“Babe?” Harrison pipes up. “What are you doing?”

With ease, you help Tom up from the chair. He fakes it a little, exaggerating just how woozy he is so that you have to wrap your arms around his waist. He hides his mischievous smirk in the crook of your neck, suppressing his guilt. He wasn’t lying to Harrison—he will stay in his lane. But old habits die hard, and you’re very warm, and he’s very drunk, especially with the blood rushing to his head.

“Putting him to bed,” you respond. “He’s tired.”

Suddenly, Tom finds himself yawning. He leans into you, pouting softly at Harrison as he tries to look as exhausted as possible. He’s always been a convincing actor, and his friend buys it completely.

“Alright,” Harrison says. “Do you need help?”

You shake your head. “Nah,” you respond. “I’ll be fine.” You squeeze Tom’s waist. “He’s just a big teddy bear.”

Tom doesn’t think he likes that (if anything, he’s a lion), but it seems to ease Harrison. The man presses forward, kissing your cheek before giving Tom a firm pat on his shoulder.

“Right, then,” he says. “I’ll be inside.” Harrison glances at Tom, reluctance filling his blue eyes before fading slowly. “Sweet dreams, bro.”

“Thanks, Hazzy.”

“Don’t ever fucking call me that again.”

Tom’s still chuckling as you lead him back inside, and he knows that you’re trying not to giggle too.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom already knows that you’re cute, but as you help him up the staircase and get him ready for bed, your adorableness really comes through.

“Drink this,” you announce, walking back into his bedroom with a glass of water in your hands. Tom admires the way that you walk, glad he’s already in bed and hiding beneath the covers. Your hair is a little wild, and he knows that’s probably his fault—Tom’s cheeky, and he’s especially persistent when he’s hammered, and he might’ve been a bit mischievous in the bathroom when you’d tried to convince him to brush his teeth, refusing until you’d had to physically push the brush into his mouth. You’d rolled your eyes, and he’d been distracted by watching you in the mirror.

“What is it?” he asks annoyingly. Now Tom is almost naked, clad only in his boxers, and he does a deliberately long stretch of his arms above his head, smirking as the duvet falls down to expose his toned torso.

You roll your eyes again as you sit on the edge of his bed, pushing the glass into his hands. “Water,” you supply. You stare at him, raising a brow. “Probably won’t help with the hangover, but I feel like I need to try.”

Tom takes a few sips, looking at you over the rim of the glass. You look tired, up close. Still glowing, and beautiful, and gorgeous, but tired. Your lipstick is faded, and he can see the shadows of your dark circles peeking through your makeup.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You glance at him, chuckling shortly before looking down at your hands. You play around with a few of your rings, sighing.

“Just tired,” you respond. You manage a forced smile. “Doesn’t matter.”

He frowns. “It does.” Tom obediently downs the entire glass, wanting to coax a smile to your face. “Why’d you come out if you’re tired?”

“Haz wanted me to.” You bring your eyes back to Tom. “I wanted to come and support you, too.”

Tom blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Aww.”

You scrunch up the end of your nose as you stand from his bed, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “Well, I do care about you, Tom. I know there’s a lot of pressure on you to make the parties good.”

Warmth bursts through Tom’s chest. “That’s so cute,” he mutters. He looks up at you, the light being cast from the ceiling light cascading over your shoulders like a halo. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re plastered,” you respond, smiling. You walk closer, running a hand over the top of the duvet until you reach Tom. When you’re standing up by his head, you tentatively reach down to push his shoulders. “Lie down,” you coax. “Bedtime.”

Tom sinks into his mattress with ease, smiling when you gently pick up his head and plump the pillows. You reach down and pull the duvet up to his chin, tucking it in around his chest firmly, your tongue held between your teeth as you go. You’re very attentive, and the sight of you looking after him so well doesn’t help his predicament at all.

“Thanks, darling,” Tom murmurs. He sighs contentedly. “So comfy,” he whines. “Why don’t you stay with me if you’re tired?” He cracks open an eye just in time to see the expression of shock on your face fade to one of amusement.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you respond. “Can you imagine how confused you’d be waking up in the morning?”

“Would be a good kind of confusion, though.” Tom rounds out his eyes, trying to look as soft and unassuming as possible. “I’m a great bed partner, babe. I won’t kick you. I’ll give you space. Or, if you want, I’ll cuddle you. I’m great at cuddling people.”

You just laugh, your face vibrant and light. “You’re so funny,” you say. “I wonder if you’ll remember this tomorrow.”

Tom scowls, grumpily snuggling further into bed. “I invite a pretty girl into my bed and she rejects me,” he grumbles. “Your loss, baby.”

“You sound more and more like a fratboy every time we speak.” You stand back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him up and down. “Right. I left painkillers on the side, and there’s more water too. Sweet dreams, Tom.”

You turn to leave, but Tom makes a noise of objection. You pause, raising a brow in question.

“Goodnight kiss,” Tom begs. “Please?”

You laugh again but step back towards him. You bend over, necklace dangling in Tom’s face as your hands smooth up to rest in his hair. He’s overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume and the close proximity, and for a moment, he thinks you’re going to imitate the breathtaking kiss from earlier. But then you move up. You kiss his forehead, gently, stroking a few strands of his hair as your lips linger against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. When you pull back, Tom has a dumb expression on his face, and he’s glad that you follow up the kiss by turning off his lamp.

“Night, Tom,” you say, walking across the room. There’s a single shard of light, peeking into his room through the open door, and it illuminates your silhouette as you pause there.

“Night, Y/N,” he responds, voice slightly thick.

You gently close the door behind you and leave Tom alone, with nothing but his thoughts and his fantasies to entertain him. He grumbles as he turns over, a very prominent and selfish thought pushing to the front of his mind:

Tom loves Harrison, but he’s fed up. He can’t carry on like this, yearning incessantly. He doesn’t want to stay in his lane, he wants you to be his girl. Desperately.

Tom has to do something. He has to make you his.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You think that whoever scheduled Intro to International Business for 9am on a Monday hates all college students.

It’s dreary as you make the hungover trek to campus. The ache in the front of your skull rattles with each sombre step, and you never get used to the chill of November’s dark mornings despite having plenty of experience with them now. You’re bundled up in a hoodie, a jacket, and a scarf, yet the flecks of grey raindrops still manage to soak you. By the time you reach the lecture theatre, you’re grouchy and regretting ever leaving your bed.

At the time, going to the frat party the night before had seemed like a great idea—Harrison hadn’t stopped blowing up your phone about it all weekend, and you’d felt compelled to keep him company. There were other factors that made you eager to go, too.

It’s all a blur now. Spin the bottle, disrupting Harrison’s tense conversation with Tom, taking the latter upstairs. You think about the sight of Tom bundled up in bed, duvet pulled to his pouting lips, and your entire body bursts into flame, rippling with an unrestrained desire that makes you feel guilty for just existing. You’d been so affected by the events of the night before that you’d had to go home, too overwhelmed to stay with Harrison in the room beside Tom’s.

Most of the seats around you are empty. You’re early despite rolling out of bed after sleeping through your first alarm. As you settle into the back of the theatre, you begrudgingly pull out a pad of paper and a pen, wishing you’d thought to bring sunglasses. This is the class that you supposedly share with Tom and Harrison—also business majors—yet they’ve never made an appearance beyond a half-assed attempt in the first week. Sometimes you wonder how they’re both able to pass a class they never show face in.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Who the fuck scheduled this so early? They’re taking the piss.”

You startle as a grouchy voice enters your space, and your eyes snap up just in time to see a dark figure drop down into the open seat beside you. The deep navy blue hoodie is pulled above his head, and he immediately crosses his arms, but you know without a doubt who it is.

“Tom?” you ask, voice full of shock. You sit forward, reaching out to place a hand on his arm as you peer at him. When you meet his pale face and see the thick sunglasses covering his eyes, your eyebrows raise. “Since when do you come to class?”

Tom clicks his tongue, lips curving into a smirk. It’s a little disconcerting that you can’t see his eyes, but you can tell they’re dark and seductive. They always are.

“What d’you mean?” he teases. “I’m always here.”

“As if.”

He shrugs and breaks off for a moment to yawn. “Thought I should start being a good student, ‘n all,” he mutters. “Finals next month, and everything.”

“And how’s your hangover?”

Tom pulls a face. All of a sudden, he leans over, rummaging through his bag with loud actions until he procures a bottle of water and a bag of mixed nuts. When he sits back up, he pushes down his hood and jerks off his sunglasses, exposing the damage. You wince as you take in the deep bags beneath his eyes and the way his brown irises are marred with red. He still manages to smile, though, and after ripping open his snack, crunches a couple in quick succession.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “I don’t get hungover, but if I do, it clears pretty fast. I’m built differently.”

You snort. “Yeah right,” you mutter. You find yourself looking at his lips, and briefly, you’re transported to how incredible they felt last night when you’d straddled him and kissed him. Quick to shake that off, you find yourself blinking as you stare at him. “You were trashed last night. I had to take you to bed. Do you remember?”

Tom gives a hapless shrug, not quite looking into your eyes. You wonder, not for the first time, what thoughts are running through his mind. He confuses you immensely.

The night you’d met, you’d been convinced you’d end up sleeping with him. He’d swaggered over to you, dripping charm, looking incredibly hot in an all-black ensemble, chain, and cap, then he’d kissed your forehead and promised to see you later. Just, you hadn’t seen him later—instead, his friends had not-so-subtly set you up with Harrison as Tom had stood across the room, watching. A part of you had felt side-lined by him, but Harrison is attractive, so you’d jumped on him the moment you could.

Harrison is nice. He’s kind. Dependable. He’s the kind of boy that you could easily take home to your mother and hear nothing but kind words about. He isn’t always the most attentive, but he’s funny, and he cares for you, so it’s fine.

Tom is… Tom is an entirely different ballpark. There are no words to describe Tom Holland. You’d thought you knew enough about him before meeting him at the party, but the man you’ve come to know since doesn’t match up to the reputation that surrounds him. Tom is cheeky—it’s obvious in his flirtatious jokes, and his lingering touches, and his habit of kissing your cheek every single time he sees you. He’s funny too, but his sense of humour isn’t mean or callous like most of the lads in his house. Beneath the hardy exterior lies someone who genuinely cares, and looks out for the people he loves.

He makes you feel alive, each one of your cells burning and sizzling every time he’s around. Tom makes you feel the pounding rhythm of your heartbeat everywhere—in your ears, in your chest, between your legs. He gives you everything, whilst giving you nothing at all. It’s entirely perplexing.

You need to stop comparing them. It’s not a competition. You’re seeing Harrison, and Tom has no genuine interest in you. You’re friends, and he’s flirty, but that’s it. You’re friends, and you shared the best kiss of your life last night, but that doesn’t mean a thing. It doesn’t matter that Tom fires you up the right way, because it’s one-sided, and you’re with Haz.

Tom ignores your question about the night before and instead tips his bag of nuts towards you.

“Care for a nut?”

You snort as you pick out a cashew, crunching it softly as he watches. Tom’s deep brown eyes linger on your lower lip as you slowly lick the salt from it.

“Delicious,” you say, earning a loud cackle from your companion.

“Dirty girl,” he mutters, grinning wickedly.

“No, you just have your mind in the gutter. Not everything has to be an innuendo, Tom.”

“Wrong. Everything can be and is an innuendo if you try hard enough. You should know this by now, darling. You’ve spent enough time with me.”

“Maybe, but not all of us share your immature sense of humour, Tom.”

He gasps, eyebrows sliding up his forehead in mock shock. “Are you calling me a child?”

“Childish,” you clarify, smirking as he shoots daggers at you. “You’re such a boy.”

Tom sits back, blinking a few times in quick succession before clearing his throat. His eyes seem to darken as he leans in closer, bringing a hand up to rest on your shoulder. His fingers are warm as he pushes the hair from your face and gently tucks it behind your ear, leaning across the seat until he’s able to whisper gently.

“I am not a boy,” he coos, voice soft. “I’ve just never broken out the proper charm on you, darling.”

Your throat runs dry as his hot breath fans out across the side of your face, minty fresh.

“And what is this proper charm?”

Tom opens his mouth to speak, but it fades a moment later. He pulls back, appearing to lose his cool last minute as his cheeks flush.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mutters instead. He shifts around in his seat, looking back at you for a split-second before glancing away. Tom’s reluctant to meet your eyes, and you watch, confused, as he chugs about half his bottle of water before pulling off his hoodie. He’s still flushed—face warmer and more alive than it’s been all morning.

Your brows furrow as you look at Tom’s shirt. “Hey, is that the one I borrowed the other week?” you ask, speaking before you have time to process the words.

Tom chuckles, regaining his charm as he throws his hoodie on top of his bag and turns to face you, a hand lodging in his hair. It’s longer than it’d been at the start of the semester, a few strands dangling over his forehead.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Smells of you.” Something crosses over Tom’s face, and he flashes you the tips of his pearly teeth as he smirks. “Smells of us, darling.”

Your reaction is immediate and uncontrollable. A hot flush, moving through your entire body, forming in your centre and rolling across your figure from the inside out. You hope that you can play it off by pulling your notebook into your lap. The back of your mouth is dry, but you manage a weak, quipping response of, “you should wash that,” before you spiral too far.

It’s in the small things. His comments. His lingering touches. His smirks. Tom drives you crazy.

The lecture starts, but you don’t pay it much attention. Instead, you stay huddled up in the back with Tom, killing time as he shows you a collection of photos from the night before. After flicking through the snapshots from a very blurry night, Tom moves on to a different folder in his phone, nimble fingers swiping across the screen and showing off some of his favourite memes. You end up almost crying from laughter, clutching to his arm as you bend over in your seat and try to pass by undetected by the notoriously strict professor. Tom’s hand soothes over your back, and you briefly wonder if you should dissolve into laughter more often just so he can bring you back down.

When the class finishes, Tom throws his arm across your shoulders and walks you across campus. It’s only when you’re halfway towards the car park that you realise where he’s taking you.

“Wait— I can walk back home.”

“Nah. It’s fine.”

“It’s out of the way, though.”

Tom squeezes your side. “‘S alright. You’re my best mate’s girl. ‘Least I can do.” He pauses, apparently oblivious to the sour expression you pull in response to those words. “Plus, you looked after me last night, so… I kinda owe you.”

Deciding to just accept it, you hum in agreement. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

He’s very warm and his cologne smells like a forest breeze. You enjoy strolling across campus with him, especially when he kisses your temple as you separate at his car. It’s a battered old thing, and you’ve been in it a few times before. You’re fairly sure that Haz owns it too, but the way Tom settles into the driver’s seat and keys the ignition makes him look like the proper owner. Tom commands any space he inhabits with poise and elegance.

“You’re out near Sarah, aren’t you?” Tom asks as he jerkily reverses from his parking space.

“Yeah.”

“Nice area,” he comments, which makes you laugh. Tom glances at you, raising a brow. “What?”

“Small talk?”

“Mmm. Well, is there anything else you’d like to talk about, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Fuck, you can’t handle the way that sounds dripping from his lips.

“Nope.” You stretch your hands out in front of you, yawning. “Too hungover to think.”

“Fair enough.” Tom drums his fingers over the wheel, and you find yourself watching the lines of his slender digits. He has very pretty hands. “Good party though, eh?”

“Oh yeah. Crazy. Did you have fun?”

Tom releases a noise of reluctant agreement. “It was alright. Not the most successful night for me.” He risks a brief glance at you, chuckling. “Isn’t really the best look to get escorted to bed.” You aren’t sure if you should feel guilty for that, but Tom’s quick to add, “not that I don’t appreciate it. I do. I just shouldn’t have been so eager.”

“Why were you?” you ask. “It seemed like you were trying really hard to get drunk. Did something happen?”

Tom cackles, the sound so loud and quivering so precisely that it makes you jump. “God, if you only knew…”

“Eh?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

You’re intrigued now. “What?” you press, reaching across the console to pat his thigh. You’re over halfway back to yours now, and like a bloodhound, you want to know answers. “Was it a girl? I’ve not seen you with anyone since… Well, ever.” You furrow your brows. “Did someone reject you?”

Tom’s face clouds over immediately, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat as you watch his jaw set into a hard line.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snaps, his easy demeanour gone.

“Woah,” you mutter. “Sorry.”

Tom cards a frustrated hand through his hair, his eyes glinting dark. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I was not rejected.” The way his voice quivers makes it sound like a lie.

You pull a face as you cross your arms over your chest, your hangover exacerbating your rapidly falling mood.

“Aren’t we friends?” you ask.

He sucks in a fast breath. “Yep,” he replies, speaking through tight lips.

Something has changed. It’s as if you’ve crossed an invisible boundary that you hadn’t seen, tripped a trick wire only visible to him. The air between you is thick, and Tom doesn’t say another word until he’s turned down your street and pulled into a space outside your house.

“Well… Thanks, I guess,” you mutter. You reach into the footwell and pull up your bag, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn back to face him. For a few moments you bounce between jumping out of the car or staying, but you hate leaving things tense like this. Not with him. “Are we… good?”

Tom turns off the engine. For a moment he stares at his hands on the steering wheel, but then he brings his gaze up to you. His eyes are sad and raw, and it makes your heart hurt.

“We’re fine, Y/N,” he says, voice softer. “Sorry. It’s the, uh… The hangover. Makin’ me act like a twat. I’m sorry.”

You release a sigh of relief. “It’s okay, Tom.” A light chuckle slips by your lips. “I was worried I pissed you off for a moment there.”

Tom’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You? Never, darling.” He drums his hands over his thighs, and you remember the circumstances.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get out of your hair,” you say. You hasten to undo your seatbelt and reach towards the car door, only to pause when Tom reaches out suddenly to touch your arm. “Yeah?”

“I, uh…” Tom’s close, leaning over the console. Your eyes drift over the freckles of his face, and you get distracted by how warm his brown orbs are, like glinting pools of honey. “I really am sorry,” he adds. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “It’s fine.” You glance down to where he’s softly caressing your arm, his eyes fixed firmly on your skin. His hand feels nice. Soothing. He soothes you. He always does. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tom nods. “Yeah. I’m great.”

You don’t quite believe him, but you’re willing to accept that the hangover has knocked him.

“Well, thank you,” you say. You turn back to face him. “For the lift. And the nuts.”

Tom finally smiles again, and the sight makes your heart soar. “No worries, babe,” he says. He winks. “Any time.”

You lean over the console and kiss his cheek, your mouth hitting a spot of skin closer to his lips than the side of his face. If Tom notices how flustered it makes you, he doesn’t say a thing. You’re still shaking as you pull your bag over your back and hobble from the car, shouting back a tight, “bye!”

Tom raises his hand through the open window and winks again as he pulls away from the curb, leaving your body throbbing persistently and your heart more confused than it’s ever been.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks pass. You don’t see Harrison much, but Tom continues to come to class. Life goes on, nothing unchanged, and finals come and go with ease. Before you know it, it’s the final mixer of the semester.

Harrison’s going to miss it. He tells you as much when you turn up at the frat two hours before kickoff to find him stuffing shirts into a bag. He looks guilty as you walk into his room, question written all over your face.

“You remember Rory, yeah? From UPenn? He invited me to their party. Apparently, they’ve got Travis Scott. It’s gonna be lit, so… I’m going.”

“Overnight?” you ask, looking at his heavy bag. Harrison nods, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Sorry… I probably should’ve told you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah.” You glance down at your hands and swallow the irritation that festers in your chest. Harrison has never been great at communication. Throughout the duration of your arrangement—whether you’re just dating, or just hooking up—he’s kept his cards close to his chest. He confuses you.

When you’d first spent the night with him, Harrison had acted like he’d wanted something more with you. You’d been on a few dates, he’d brought your flowers, the works. But with time, it’s as if he’s tired of you. The spark has slipped away, and if he wasn’t on his way across state, you’d sit him down and have a discussion about the direction of your entanglement. But he is, and you have no time, so you display your irritation by crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry,” he adds. He finishes zipping up his bag and throws it over his shoulders before stepping towards you. With warm hands, he cups your cheeks and brings you in for a deep, passionate kiss. “You can always come if you want.”

You grimace as you shake your head. “I told Tom I’d help him here,” you say. “It’s fine. Just… Have fun, alright?”

A shadow of jealousy briefly flitters across Harrison’s face, but it’s quick to smooth away when he clears his throat. “‘Course,” he says. He takes your hand and leads you from his room. “What are you guys doing?”

“Hm?”

“Tom. What are you doing with him?”

“Oh. Just hanging up banners, and stuff. He wanted me to help him with the drinks too.”

“Nice.”

The air between you is stale, and you’re glad when Harrison pulls you down the corridor and pauses outside Tom’s room. There’s loud music coming from the room, so Harrison has to rap loudly several times, an act that makes you cringe.

“Come in!” yells Tom. Harrison does just that, pulling you in after him with a firm grip. “Oh, hey guys?”

You instantly wrench your hand from Harrison’s, not wanting him to feel your palm grow hot as your eyes fall onto Tom. You’ve caught him mid-workout, perched on the edge of his bed, shirtless and doing curls with a hand weight. There’s a healthy red flush to his face, and his bicep bulges as he flexes with the weight. All across his chest are lines of thick muscle, and you find yourself staring.

“Hey, dude,” Harrison says. “I’m just on my way out.” He turns to look at you, an easy smile on his face. “Y/N told me you guys have plans tonight, so… I guess, I’m just wondering. Can you keep an eye on her? Look after my girl, y’know?” He pauses to chew on his lip, guilt at leaving reflected in his eyes. “Make sure she’s okay, ‘n all that.”

Tom stands from the bed, tossing the weight onto the mattress with ease before approaching you, smirking. “‘Course, Haz.” He wraps a very hot, slightly sweaty arm around you and pulls you into his side. “I’ll take care of her.” Tom glances at you, shrugging softly. “Take care of you,” he adds.

You don’t know what kind of dangers you might face tonight that warrant a personal guard, but you don’t think you mind it if your attendant is Tom. He’s hot and sweaty and he smells of man, but you burn for him.

“Thanks,” you respond, slightly breathless.

Harrison looks between you both, then shrugs. “Great.” He steps forward and briefly touches his lips to you. Tom freezes, holding you tighter in his arms the moment Harrison kisses you, and that action makes you feel perplexed. “Have a good time, guys.”

“You too, Haz,” Tom responds. You echo similar sentiments.

When the door closes behind Harrison, Tom doesn’t move. He simply holds you tighter, then drops his mouth down and presses a light kiss to the base of your neck. Your choked whimper travels into the air, and you flush as he steps away.

“We will have fun tonight, won’t we, Y/N?” he teases. His eyes are dark as they briefly skitter across your figure. After a moment, Tom walks across the room and picks up a towel and a fresh set of clothes. Tom pauses in front of you, tilting his head as he looks at you. He has to know how frazzled he makes you feel. He’s got to.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice high. “A lot of fun.”

“Mmm. Hope so.” Tom steps forward and cups your cheek in his hot palm, kissing your forehead before stepping back. “I’m going to shower. Make yourself comfortable, yeah? What’s mine is yours.”

A full-body shiver travels down your spine, but luckily it isn’t until he’s turned on his heel and strode over to the door.

“Have fun,” you call out. Tom turns back to wink, then disappears in a flash.

As the door closes behind him, you wonder if you really lost your spark for Harrison, or if the feelings you had for him just paled in comparison to the ones you harbour for his best friend.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The party picks up quickly. You split off from Tom a few hours in, being pulled away by one of your friends and staying with them for a while. You start to miss him, though, so you excuse yourself from a game of beer pong out on the patio and walk back into the large frat house, cringing slightly as you hear the loud music. You haven’t been drinking much tonight. Something tells you that you’ll need your sober brain.

It takes you a while to find Tom, the house busy and wild. He’s not in the kitchen, nor the hallway. Your adventures take you to the large living room, where they have the music and the drinks set up. As you wander inside, your eyes take a moment to acclimate to the dim lighting. When they settle, you see him, and the breath leaves your lungs.

Tom is standing in the middle of the dancefloor, talking with a girl. She’s draped in his arms, the tips of her fingers running through his hair as she chats to him. Tom is looking at her intently, paying rapt attention to what she’s saying, but the smile on his face doesn’t quite stretch to his eyes. When he spots you, his brows briefly raise, only for them to lower again as he smirks. He winks at you, then reaches for the girl, bringing her in closer and dropping his mouth so he can start to kiss her neck.

Jealousy consumes you. It burns through every other rational thought that you have. The sight of the girl wrapping herself around him as Tom kisses up her neck makes your fingers curl into fists at your sides, and you start to walk across the room before you can comprehend it. Tom sees you, continuing to make flirtatious eye contact with you as he deposits light, wet kisses to the girl’s shoulder. It feels targeted and provocative, and whatever game that he’s playing seems to work.

“Tom!” you call out when you’re just a few centimetres away. He leisurely pulls away from the girl, dark eyes twinkling mischievously as he looks up at you.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You grimace. Now you’re over here, on the receiving end of stares from Tom and his companion, you wonder why you’d responded so immediately and directly.

“You need to come with me. We have, uh… Things to do.”

Tom raises an eyebrow, stepping away from the girl as he crosses his biceps over his chest. He’s wearing his golden chain, the one that always drives you mad, and he looks so fucking handsome under the UV lights.

“And what would those things be, Y/N?” he asks. The girl at his side is looking between you both.

“You know,” you hiss.

The girl frowns, then huffs out a sigh and pushes at Tom’s arm. “Can we go upstairs?” she asks him. Tom glances at her, chewing his lower lip as he finds himself on the receiving end of her fluttering lashes.

“No, Jess,” he says, evening out the rejection with a soft smile. “I’m sorry. Have a good evening.” Before she can respond, Tom reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you with ease towards one of the corners of the room. You squeal as he tugs you, easily falling into his side and enjoying the press of his warm arm to yours. He drops his voice, pausing only when you’re on the edge of the dancefloor to spin you and press his hands to your waist. “Are you alright, darling?” he asks, smirking. “Looks to me like someone was a little jealous.”

Your body heats up, and you find yourself nibbling at your lower lip as you try to make sense of the situation. “Nope,” you lie. With ease, you reach up and rest your hands on Tom’s broad shoulders. “I was just… Thinking about the night we met. You said we could dance then, but we never did.” You tilt your head to the side, throwing out a convincing smile. “Do you want to change that?”

Tom growls, tugging you closer as he wraps his arms around you. The tips of his teeth brush up against the shell of your ear and you whimper as his hot breath fans out over the side of your face. “Fuck yeah, babe,” he murmurs.

You settle into it easily. Tom ends up pulling you so your back rests flush against his front, his arms skating around to hold your waist as you grind back against him. It’s close and hot, and it doesn’t take long for him to put his lips back where they belong—on your neck, kissing deeply. Everything that he does feels calculated and purposeful, but it’s only when he brings his kisses near your ear and whispers a low, “you’re so fucking hot, baby,” that you come back to earth.

“We… Shouldn’t,” you whimper. Tom kisses your lobe in response. “Harrison.”

“What about him?” he mutters. His voice is raspy and seductive, and the way he strokes his hands over your sides makes your eyes roll back. “He doesn’t care about you like I do, Y/N. You know he doesn’t.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the way Tom sucks deep bruises to the sensitive spot on your neck. Harrison had never been able to find it, had never even tried.

“He cares about me,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Yeah. But not enough.” Tom spins you in his arms, reaching up to cup your cheek in a hand. He peers at you, eyes wide and insistent. “He lies to you. Did he ever tell you about the night that you met?”

You quirk a brow. “No.”

A shadow of hesitation passes over Tom’s face, but he swallows it down. “He only came up to you as part of a… a fucking bet. That’s the only reason I didn’t come back to you that night.” He strokes his fingers over your cheekbone, soothing you when you frown. “You’re the prettiest fucking woman I’ve ever met in my life, and it’s been killing me to see you both together.”

You press your forehead to his, feeling his breath come out in hot pants over your face. “Do you like me, Tom?”

He chuckles. “You have no idea how much, babe.” Tom shifts his hands back to your hair and he cradles your face. “I’d be so good to you. I swear.” He’s speaking earnestly, his voice breaking softly as he looks at you. “I love Haz. He’s my best mate. But we all know that you’re not a good fit. He left you here tonight. He doesn’t satisfy you.” Tom drops his voice, tilting his head to the side as his voice drops lower. He brings his lips closer, kissing the side of your mouth as you shiver. “I could satisfy you properly.”

You release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. For a moment you stare at Tom, eyes swirling down to his lips, then, as if entranced, you reach down and pull your phone from your bra. Using one hand on the screen, you reach up to cup Tom’s face with the other, smiling softly when he instinctively tilts his lips and kisses the palm of your hand. You write out a short message, the guilt in your heart fading when you briefly check Harrison’s Instagram story and see him surrounded by a sea of girls at the party he hadn’t invited you to.

After sending the message, you tilt the screen towards Tom’s face, watching his skin glow white as he slowly reads the few words.

You: Haz, I’m sorry to do this over text, but it’s over. I think we both know that we’re better as friends.

Tom’s brows raise. “Did you..?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip and slowly tuck your phone back against your chest. “It’s over.”

Tom kisses you immediately, both of his hands anchoring your cheeks. You could almost cry with how good it feels to have his mouth touching yours again. He parts his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan as you wrap your arms around his neck. As he holds you tightly, his hands slip down to hold your waist, and though your teeth and noses collide and clash, you don’t care. It’s beautifully imperfect, and it’s so hot that it makes your whole body throb. Tom’s curls give you the perfect leverage to jerk him closer, and as you make out mercilessly on the edge of the dance floor, you feel a piece of you slot into place.

“Come upstairs with me,” he groans, voice thick as he speaks against your lips. Your mouth is wet with spit, but you don’t bother to wipe it clean when you pull back. Tom’s eyes glint with hunger, and he grabs at your hand when you nod.

The journey upstairs is fast and easy, full of your giggles as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. The moment you’re in his room, Tom pushes you back against the door and flicks the lock, attaching his lips to your neck with ease.

“Tom,” you whine, running your hands all over his back as he sucks harshly against your skin.

His hands skim lower and you curve your spine away from the door so he can grab handfuls of your ass, your moan mixing with his grunt when he pulls away from your neck to kiss your lips again. It’s as if he’s ravenous—unable to pick between your lips and your neck, your hips and your ass. Tom changes his position every few seconds, and the irregularity fills you with excitement.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans. Tom pulls back breathlessly, looking straight into your eyes. “Can I… Are you okay with this?” he clarifies, holding your gaze firmly until you nod.

“I’m more than okay with this,” you say.

“Good, good... Pretty baby.” Tom runs his index finger down your face, his knees bending as he slowly sinks down in front of you. He scatters two light kisses to each of your breasts before travelling down your navel, only stopping when he’s fully on his knees, gazing up at you from beneath his lashes. “Darling?”

“Hmm?” You’re light-headed but aroused, your dress feeling tight as you shuffle against the door.

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat, and the first time you try to speak, only a moan comes out. Tom smirks, fingers easily pushing up the hem of your dress. As his fingertips stroke up your thighs to rest on your waistband, he pauses, tilting his head to the side in question. “Yeah,” you manage, voice a whisper. “I want that so badly.”

“Mmm, should’ve just said, darling.” Tom’s head dips, disappearing between your legs. You whimper as he rubs the front of two fingers down the front of your panties, the material wet and warm. “God…” He unhooks them easily and tugs them down your legs, pausing to allow you to kick them off. When he repositions, he holds your thighs further apart and presses a kiss to your soft flesh. “You’re fucking soaked, lovie.” His hot breath fans across your centre. “Pretty cunt’s just waiting for me, isn’t it?”

His cockiness turns you on, and you’ve barely gotten out a garbled moan before he’s delving in. Tom’s skilful tongue runs up your slit, light at first, gradually leading you into it. You cry out as he finds your clit, sucking softly around the bud before lapping his tip across it gently. You have to reach out and grab ahold of the nearby bookshelf as arcs of pleasure spread out from your centre, small whimpers and moans being pulled from your mouth as Tom continues his assault.

“Tastes like paradise,” he whines, speaking against your cunt. “So sweet, baby. I understand why Haz likes being with you so much.” Tom pauses, drawing a few more strokes across your clit as you whimper. “Mine now,” he murmurs, deep voice vibrating across your centre. “My pussy.”

“Tom,” you moan, legs shaking. He responds by bringing his right hand up, slowly curving two of his digits into your heat. As he starts to thrust his fingers, the sounds of your wet arousal fill the air, making you moan louder. “Feels so good,” you encourage, realising he works harder when you speak to him. The top of his curls brushes against your legs as his tongue continues to glide over your clit, merciless and pleasurable.

“You sound so pretty, love,” Tom says, pulling away slightly. The vibrations from the noise make you moan louder, and you glance down to see him staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust and his chin covered in your juices. He looks back between your legs, readjusting his fingers and curving them at different angles before he strikes gold. When you call out his name, his other hand goes up to your hips, holding you back against the door as he smirks. “I want you to cum for me, darling,” he coos. “Let me make you feel good. I want to hear those pretty little moans. Be loud for me.”

You don’t take much convincing, as once Tom’s got his mouth back on your clit, you’re arching your back as you fall over the edge. He laps your bud with his hot, firm tongue, his fingers continuing to stroke at your walls until you spasm into climax, reaching out to grab his hair as you moan and writhe against the door. He holds you up, even when you feel like falling, and it has to be the most intensely pleasurable orgasm that you’ve ever experienced in your life.

“Fuck,” you pant, only able to calm down when Tom pulls back. He sits on his shins, smacking his lips as he looks up at you, smirking. You’ve still got a hand on his head, so you fiddle with his hair as you recover. “That was so good.” A breathless smile finds your face. “So good. Thank you.”

“No problem, darling.” Tom clambers to his feet, and your eyes find themselves drawn to the bulge in his jeans. “Knew I could make you cum,” he says, speaking almost to himself. “Looked like an angel. Taste like one too.”

You swallow a moan and step forward, hands twisting behind your back to release your zipper. Tom’s eyes widen as you push down your dress, stepping out of it with ease.

“We’re not done yet, are we?” you ask, biting your lip as you look over to the bed. Tom shakes his head and offers you a hand after you’ve pulled your phone from your bra and placed it down on his desk.

“No way,” he agrees. Tom pushes you down onto the mattress but stays standing at the edge, nimble hands quickly releasing his belt and pulling off his jeans, then his shirt. You admire his Calvin Klein boxers, black with a white band skimming across the top, and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Fuck,” he adds. His eyes skim your figure, appreciation held in his gaze. “I can’t believe I’ve got you here.” He gets on the bed, pushing you down and climbing on top of you as he kisses his way up to your mouth. When he’s hovering above your face, he cups your cheeks. “Most beautiful girl in the whole world, love. Girl of my dreams.”

You kiss him, your hands finally able to learn the curves of his muscular back. Tom grinds down into you, his covered crotch meeting your bare pussy, and the friction to your clit makes you moan into the kiss. As you admire his form, you settle into his lips, your heart beating faster and more persistently against your ribcage.

“Tom,” you say, speaking against his mouth. He pulls back, lips red and puffy. “You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?”

Tom bites his lip, continuing to roll his hips down against yours. When you start to grind up to meet him, an expression of enjoyment darkens his face. “Thanks, love.”

You lick your lips as you wrap your arms around him, holding him closer as he continues to grind into you. “Every time I’d see you out doing weights or walking around shirtless, it’d turn me on,” you admit. You snake a hand between your bodies, managing to press your palm up and against the outline of his cock. Tom groans loudly, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and whining as he ruts against the pressure. “I want to feel you,” you whimper. “Properly. I want to feel how good it is to have you inside me... I can feel you. I know you’re big.” You bite your lip. “I’ve thought about it for weeks.”

Tom forces his face away from your neck and meets your eyes, his pupils completely dilated. “You are going to be the death of me, lovie,” he says seriously, drawing a chuckle from your lips. Tom leans up and kisses you, softer, but only for a moment. He reaches across his bed and rummages through his bedside table, procuring a condom a second later.

“Let me do it,” you offer. Tom nods, and you swap positions with ease. Tom settles on the mattress, raising his hips and watching as you tug his boxers down his legs. You feel yourself salivate slightly as you take sight of his cock, erect and flushed, pressing up against his lower stomach. Holding the open condom in one hand, you run your thumb over his tip with the other, gathering beads of his silver precum on your fingertip. You meet Tom’s eyes and sit back on his thighs as you push your finger into your mouth, exaggerating your moan as you lick it clean.

Tom tosses his head back, his hair fluffing up against the pillows. His cock twitches against his stomach. “Fuck, baby… You’re driving me crazy.” When you reach back and roll the condom over his length, he can barely keep still, rutting up and filling your hand the moment you’re done. “You know… every time you stayed the night with Haz, I could hear you guys,” he says, looking at you through hooded eyes. You give him a few pumps, biting your lip as you admire his member and try to imagine how good it’ll feel filling you to the brim. “Used to get off listening to your moans. Imagining it was me fucking you. Thinking… Thinking about how good it’d be to- fuck- to open you up on my cock.”

His words make you feel hot, and you speed up the rhythm of your hand as you watch his face flush with heat. “I know,” you admit. “I could hear you sometimes.” You lean up and press a kiss to his chest, feeling his hot skin between your lips. “You make the hottest noises, Tom.”

“For you,” he groans, jaw tensing. “It’s all for you.” He continues to rut into your hand, and you smirk as you feel him throb. As Tom grows more erratic, you feel your slick between your legs thicken and your core begin to throb.

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

Tom immediately bounces his head, eyes lighting up like you’ve spoken the only thing he’s ever wanted to hear. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—”

You bend over to kiss him, sliding up his body with ease. Tom reaches up your back, eager hands falling to a stop at your bra. He manages to unclasp it after a few attempts, grinning victoriously against your lips as it falls slack. Once you’ve thrown it aside, you sit back, watching as Tom’s hand goes down to guide his cock through your slit. One of his hands rests on your hip, palm hot and heavy, and he gives you a short squeeze as he presses his tip against your entrance.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, moaning loudly as his girth stretches your cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you adjust, breath hitching when Tom adds his thumb to your clit, the pleasure easing the stretch. When you’re completely seated, you find yourself shifting, Tom groaning when you clench and slowly start to ride him.

“Oh my god,” he moans. “Feels like heaven, darling. Actual heaven.” His jaw is tense as he tosses his head back, prying open an eye to watch as you bounce over him, moving faster as you find your rhythm. “So wet, sweetheart. So tight… So much better than I’d ever imagined.” He’s looking at you with pleasure screwed across his face, and the sight of him so desperate makes you feel powerful.

“Tom,” you whimper. “I can feel you so deep.” You’re starting to unravel, feeling him everywhere. With the thumb still rolling over your clit, his hand weighing down your hip, and the tip of his cock brushing deeper each time you come together, you can feel yourself on the verge already. “Can you… I can’t…”

“Y’wanna flip?”

“Yeah. Please.”

It happens easily, without Tom falling from you. A moment later, you’re resting over the warm mattress, wrapping your legs around Tom’s back and pulling him closer as he rails you into the bed. He’s faster than you’d been, and the new angle opens you up deeper, allowing his tip to press more pronouncedly against your g-spot. His chain dangles against your neck, the cool metal scorching against your flushed skin.

“Oh god,” Tom groans. The sounds of your bodies meeting as he roughly thrusts into you, again and again, fill the air. “You’re so perfect. Feels so good.” His eyes are dark as they meet with yours, swirling with unrestrained lust. “So wet, lovie. D’you like it when I fuck you? Yeah? Pussy’s squeezing me so tight. My pussy, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, liking how it sounds.

Tom grunts and drills into you faster. With each rotation of his hips against yours, his thick head reaches further, dragging across your g-spot with ease and causing sparks to race up your spine. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and you clutch at his torso for purchase as you scramble to stay grounded. When you add a hand to your clit, you feel your cunt clench, squeezing his length and making him groan again.

‘I’m not gonna last, love. Shit. Feels too fucking good,” he whimpers.

You bring his lips back to yours, meeting them clumsily as you moan. Your skin is hot and sweaty, being smothered by the heat of his body bearing down on you. You wind your free hand into his hair. “It’s okay,” you get out, voice catching. “I’m so close, Tom. Fuck. Make me cum. Please.”

You ride the edge for a few moments more before Tom cries out, calling your name in a voice so exerted and broken that it pushes you over the edge too. As his cock pulses against your walls and his groans fall like music to your ears, you let everything go, basking in the pleasure that crashes over your figure in thick, consuming waves. Tom’s hands are slick as they grasp at your sides, but he’s holding you tightly in place and you like it.

When the air finally clears, Tom pulls out, collapsing onto the mattress beside you with a loud groan. You flip onto your side, quivering as your core pangs with pleasurable aftershocks, your tired eyes drifting up to meet his. He reaches out, sweaty palm drifting to your face as he cups your cheek and smiles at you.

“Well,” he starts, voice low. He pulls you closer, and you carefully curl yourself into his arms. Tom nuzzles his lips against your forehead and leaves three light kisses to your skin. “That was a heavenly experience.”

You snort, burying your face in his chest and feeling the cool metal of his chain press to your skin. “Heavenly?”

“Mhmm. Because you’re an angel. My angel.”

You smile into his front. “What a charmer,” you say.

Tom combs some fingers over your hair and softly coaxes you away from his chest. Both of you share a pillow, his deep brown eyes feel of inquisition as he looks at you.

“Darling,” he mumbles, speaking slowly, almost nervous. “I like you a lot. And… And I know the circumstances are messy and complicated, but… I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I want this to be an every time thing. I want you to be my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“Yeah. My girlfriend.” Tom’s handsome eyes flutter over your face. “What do you say?”

You trace your index finger around the sculpted lines of his face, smiling softly as his lips pull into a grin. You think about how your life has changed since the first night you met him, and how your heart has slowly learnt to gravitate towards him. Tom’s right—it is messy, and maybe your union is complicated and a little wrong too, but it feels good. Him kissing your forehead and pulling you closer feels good. He feels good.

“Yeah,” you agree, speaking slowly. “I would really like that.”

Tom’s face splits into a smile, and he pushes in to kiss you. “Good,” he murmurs. “‘Cos I’m gonna woo you every single day of your life. I’ll bring you tea every morning, tuck you in at night. Make you moan louder than you’ve ever moaned in your life—”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already won me over, Tom, you can calm down—”

“Nope.” Tom’s grinning widely as he continues to peck your lips, unable to keep his hands off you. “I’ll keep charming you until I’ve won your heart, babe. This is just how it’s got to be.”

You kiss him, not knowing how to tell him that he’s already had your heart, firmly in the palm of his hand, since the very first night you met.

“Well,” you respond, voice quiet in the air. “I quite like the sound of that.”

Tom nuzzles his nose against you, lips brushing yours. “Yeah?”

You hum affirmatively and reach up to bury your hands back into his hair. “Yeah.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:D let me know what you think please !!! I would love to know if you have a favourite scene...?! I am torn between y/n putting tom to bed + the lecture theatre...lmk (if you want !!)

mlist + taglist are through the link in my bio <3

thank you for reading!! <3<3

#tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #frat!tom #frat!tom holland #frat!tomfic #smut #alternate summary for this is: tom has a raging b*ner for 16k straight

2K notes · View notes

soramei · 4 years ago

Text

From Resentment (hhj)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After a fated meeting involving a cute and fluffy puppy, you found yourself drawn to Hwang Hyunjin: the school prince. Everybody in high school loved him. It was hard not to. Not only was he rich, smart, and athletic, but he was also incredibly kind-hearted.

However, one day seemingly out of the blue, everything that you thought Hyunjin was came crashing down.

Now a freshman in university, you were excited to live out your dreams. That was, until Hyunjin came hurtling back into your life like an uncontrolled meteor. His presence threw a curveball on all your plans, and would eventually change your perspective on everything that you thought you knew.

Genre: studentl!hyunjin au, angst, enemies to lovers

Warnings: cursing, tw puking

Word Count: 8.8k

Masterlist

A/N: Not an Intentional update but a hyunjin oneshot!! disclaimer: no aspect of hyunjins personality here was drawn from real life — irl hyunjin is a ray of sunshine <3

You looked at your math homework, proud that you got all the answers correct. Since it was a slow afternoon at your job today, you had extra time to focus on your homework. The boss at the convenience store you worked at allowed you to have your homework out, as long as it was hidden behind the cash register.

As you stared at the rest of your homework, you started to feel the weight of tenth grade pile up on you. Because it was your first year of high school, you were still trying to adjust to everything; your grades, your teachers, and all the new students walking around the halls.

You stuffed the rest of your homework in your backpack. It was the end of your shift, and you wanted to go home as soon as possible to start with the rest of your studying. Crap. No matter how hard you tried to zip up your backpack, it wouldn’t close. After trying one more time, the zipper tore from your backpack.

You cursed under your breath. You couldn’t afford to buy a new backpack right now.

You had just been able to afford your new school uniform by taking up extra shifts at the convenience store, and you still needed money for your grandmother’s prescriptions. You sighed, annoyed to have another monetary stressor weighing on your shoulders.

Walking outside with your now torn backpack, your eyes widened at the group of boys in front of you. You immediately recognized them from behind.

The school princes. These three seniors were all known for three things: being extremely smart, handsome, and talented.

On the left was Seungmin, and from what you’ve heard, he was the smart and quiet one. He was always helping the teachers, being the class president and all. Any time a girl or a boy needed academic help, Seungmin was there and happy to assist.

The person on the right was Jisung. With his charming and charismatic personality, he had dated tens upon tens of girls in his grade. Just in the last year. It helped that he was really good looking — and also stinkin’ rich. His father was a notorious restaurateur, and with him being the first son, he was basically given unlimited spending rights.

The only person richer than Jisung was the boy in the center of them both: Hwang Hyunjin. This boy was the school prince. The prince of princes. He somehow managed to participate in music clubs, engage in study groups, and captain the soccer team all the while keeping up excellent grades. Every girl that Jisung had dated was said to have been rejected by Hyunjin first. That was his only flaw: he was notoriously cold to any and all romantic confessions.

You followed behind the three princes, staring at your torn up sneakers. You knew you didn’t exist in their world, but even being near three handsome and rich teenage boys made you nervous.

Suddenly, you heard a whimper coming from behind a bush to the left of you. It sounded like a hurt animal.

Worried and curious, you walked over to the bush to see what it was.

It was a puppy. Small and fluffy, it looked up at you with it’s beady black eyes and cried out. His paw was bleeding.

You panicked. Having never seen a hurt puppy before, you had no idea what to do. You called out for help.

“Help!” you cried, hoping that somebody had heard your call for help. You desperately wanted to help this hurt puppy, but you hesitated to touch it, afraid that you would hurt the animal even more.

The puppy howled in pain, making your panic rise. You were about to call out for help again, when you heard somebody running up behind you.

“What is it?” The voice asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just saw this dog here, and-and his paw is bleeding,” you anxiously stuttered.

“Here, let me take a look.”

You heard the voice behind you, so you shuffled over to make room.

It was Hwang Hyunjin. The person that responded to your cry for help was the most popular and well-liked person in the school. You were shocked, a bit intimidated actually, so you silently moved to the side for him. His black hair shone in the sunlight as he bent down to examine the dog.

“Come here, boy,” he chirped. The puppy listened, and started limping to him. “Something hurt you, didn’t it.”

He stood up, picking the puppy up along with him.

“C’mon,” he gestured with his head, “my vet isn’t too far from here actually. We can make it by walking.”

You silently nodded and followed him.

He was right. The walk to the veterinarian clinic, though very awkward, wasn’t too far. The clinic was empty at this time of day, with the receptionist being the only person in the room.

“Hyunjin! Always a pleasure,” the receptionist beamed. It seemed like Hyunjin’s likeability wasn’t only confined to your school. “My, what do we have here?”

“There’s something wrong with his paw,” Hyunjin tried to show the receptionist where the blood was coming from, “is the doctor free right now?”

“As a matter of fact, he is,” the receptionist said whilst checking the schedule. “I’ll take this little boy to the back where he can get prepped for the veterinarian.”

Hyunjin handed the puppy carefully to the receptionist. The receptionist took out a crate for the dog, put him in, and then disappeared through the back door. The two of you were now left alone in the waiting room.

“Uhm,” you coughed, “thank you. I know you probably want to get back to your friends, so you can leave now.”

“No, I’ll stay,” he looked at you and smiled, “those idiots are just playing LOL at the PC room anyways. Plus, I want to see how this little boy turns out.”

You smiled back at him, nodding your head. A few moments of awkward silence passed.

“I’m Hyunjin by the way,” he said.

“I know. I’m Y/n.”

“You’re in your first year, right?” he said, looking at the colour of your uniform.

“Yeah, it’s so hard to get used to though. I’m trying my best with my homework, but I think this school stuff just doesn’t click with me,” you rambled.

“Oh?”

“I want to go into dance. I’ve never been able to afford professional lessons, but I’ve always wanted to go to university for dance. My grandparents said they would let me if my school grades were high.” You didn’t know why you were giving your life story to Hyunjin. He just had this natural charisma that made you want to spill everything to him. It was the way he looked at you with those cat-like eyes.

“I know what you mean. It took me forever to convince my parents for me to major in dance. I got in by early admittance, but I’m sure they still have their reservations about my major.”

“You’re majoring in dance?” you asked, eyes wide.

He smiled. “I’ve loved dancing ever since I could remember. It’s my passion, and truthfully, the only thing I’ve got going for me.”

You were shocked. At school, Hyunjin was known for so many things other than dancing. Hell, you didn’t even know he enjoyed dancing and you thought you’d heard everything about him already.

The two of you chatted for a while longer before the vet came out with the now happy looking dog.

“It seemed like this little guy got into a fight with something, and he got a pretty large gash on his paw. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding too much so I just gave him some anaesthetic and stitched it right up.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god he isn’t too hurt.”

“Yes, it’s good that it wasn’t too bad,” the veterinarian agreed. “I’m assuming this is your dog? As soon as you finish with the bill, I can release this little guy and the both of you are ready to go.”

Oh yeah. The bill.

Although you knew you couldn’t afford to pay the vet bill, you didn’t know where this little dog would go if you couldn’t take him home. You did the mental calculations, and if you worked some extra shifts, you could probably be able to pick up the bill today. Buying a new backpack could be saved for another day.

“Sure, where can I pay?” you asked.

“Just over by the receptionist.” The veterinarian pointed.

You walked over to the receptionist, and she handed the bill over to you.

You almost fainted.

Just the anaesthetic and the stitches alone cost over two hundred dollars. This was extremely over your budget, and probably even more than the amount in your savings. You felt uneasy.

“Uhm, actually, I don’t think I can-”

“Do you take cash?”

Hyunjin had interrupted you, walked up to the receptionist, and pulled out his wallet. He peaked over your shoulder and took out a huge wad of cash to hand to the receptionist.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to,” you begged. You felt bad that this guy you didn’t even know had just offered to cover you for over two hundred dollars.

“Think of it as a good luck gift from a fellow dancer.” He smiled.

That was when it clicked. You didn’t know what clicked, but it just did. It was his smile. It was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up and how the corners of his lips pinched at the end. You now understood why all the girls at school were in love with him. He was quite literally perfect.

You thanked him profusely, even after the two of you had left the clinic. With the dog in your hand, you walked side by side with Hyunjin.

“So,” he started, “have you thought of a name for this guy yet?”

Oh yeah — he was your dog now. “Hmm, I don’t know yet.”

“What about Coco?”

“Coco?”

“Yeah, let’s see if he likes it.” Hyunjin leaned in and cooed at the little puppy. “Hi, little Coco!”

The puppy’s eyes lit up, and with his tongue stretched out, he started panting.

“I guess he likes it,” Hyunjin smiled. God, his smile could melt all of Antarctica.

“Coco it is.” You poked at Coco’s nose.

Hyunjin was about to say something back to you when his phone buzzed. He took a peak, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “My friends are god awful at games. I swear, they can’t even win one round without me. You’re okay with going home alone?”

He was going to walk you home? Could he be any more perfect?

You nodded your head. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I’ll pay you back for the bill one day.”

“No need,” he winked. “Like I said, it’s a good luck gift. Oh, and you can ask me if you need help with any school work. Anything to help a fellow dancer.”

He waved goodbye, then went running off in the other direction. You held Coco close to you, heart pounding. Although you didn’t want to be like all the other girls who fell for him, you felt like you were already falling for Hyunjin.

The next day, you had planned to go shopping for dog supplies after school. After a really long and arduous debate with yourself, you decided to sacrifice all of your savings in order to buy everything that Coco needed. You knew Hyunjin owned a dog himself, so throughout the whole day, you worked up the nerve to ask Hyunjin to come with you.

At the end of last period, you gathered all your stuff from your desk and headed to the soccer field where you knew Hyunjin and his friends would be. Whilst you crossed the field, you noticed Jisung staring at you. You found his stare intimidating, but you tried to brush it off. He then whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear.

“Hi, Hyunjin,” you said anxiously, biting your lip. “Umm, do you want to come with me to shop for Coco?”

He stared at you for a couple seconds, then, a look of disgust appeared on his face. “Why? So you can use my wallet again?”

You stared back at him, wide eyed. Who was this person? It wasn’t the Hyunjin that so graciously helped you out yesterday.

“W-what? No!” you exclaimed. “I-I just wanted your opinion…”

“Sure,” Hyunjin smirked coldly, “opinion my ass.”

“Hyunjin,” tears were pooling in your eyes, “I don’t understand.”

“If you need money so much, here.” He reached in his pocket and turned up a wad of cash, throwing it at your feet. “Just don’t come to me next time. And buy yourself a new pair of shoes while you’re at it.”

You looked down at the money, trying to hold back your tears. Why was Hyunjin being like this? You didn’t understand. His two jockeys beside him didn’t even bother to stop him. As you tried to stop yourself from crying, you felt your sadness turn into rage.

“I don’t need your stupid money,” you said, kicking the cash back to him. “Maybe you can use your daddy’s money to buy yourself a new personality.”

Hyunjin’s two friends tried to hold back their snickers at your words. Hyunjin heard, turned around, and gave them both death stares.

You didn’t bother to listen to whatever he was going to say next and simply stomped away, rage burning inside you. Everything about him was a lie. His charming and charismatic personality, his generosity, his kindness. They were all lies. He really was nothing but a rich, spoiled boy living with his father’s money.

There was rage behind every step you took. Wiping away your tears, you headed to your locker. You didn’t need him anyways; it was better to realize his true personality earlier rather than later. Hands shaking from anger, you dialed the combination to your locker.

“Hey, sorry about what happened earlier.” A voice came from behind you. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

It was Jisung. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to see him either.

“Why didn’t you do anything about it then?” Your voice came out shaky. It was obvious that you had cried.

“Once he starts, there’s no stopping him. It’s usually better to let him finish uninterrupted, or else he will get more mad.”

“Oh,” you said. Your hatred for Hyunjin grew even more.

“I could come with you, though. I don’t know much about dogs, but I can help you carry your bags.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, no way you can carry everything by yourself.”

You hesitated. “Okay, I guess.”

And so, you left for the pet store with Jisung, still confused about everything that had happened. It was strange with him. He was nice and cracked a joke every now and then, but it was just different from being with Hyunjin. At least he was nice, you thought.

Your trip went well. You managed to buy everything you needed for Coco. In a turn of events, Jisung had actually come in handy as he offered to carry the huge bag of dog food you bought. He even offered to buy you a coffee.

“Thanks for all your help, Jisung.” You stood outside the door of your apartment, smiling at him.

“No problem, gives me an excuse to work out my guns.” He pretended to flex his arms.

You choked back a laugh.

“You should get going now. It’s late,” you said.

“Alright,” he started to leave. “Hey, if you see me in the halls, feel free to say hi.”

You nodded and waved to him as he turned and walked away, remembering his words. Every time you saw Jisung in the school hallways, you gave him a small wave in which he happily returned. However, whenever you saw him walking with Hyunjin, you made sure to purposely avoid them. You didn’t want any negativity in your life.

You kept up the waves, and soon, waves turned to small conversations which soon turned to flirting. By the end of the semester, you and Jisung somehow ended up as a couple. Jisung was polite and sweet, unlike a certain person. With every free moment you had, you hung out with Jisung — all the while avoiding Hyunjin.

The two of you stayed a couple for the rest of Jisung’s senior year. Somehow, the two of you had even kept up your relationship throughout your whole high school experience. It was hard at times as he went to university, but with a lot of effort, you had made your relationship work out. You barely had time to talk with him, but you enjoyed the little time that you did have. Jisung had never even once mentioned Hyunjin when you were together, and with time, you had totally forgotten about that jerk. You weren’t even sure if they were still friends.

You worked hard in school and reaped all the benefits. Your rank had consistently been in the top twenties amongst all the other students, and you even had time to practice your dancing. You remembered the day that you received your acceptance letter from university. Hands shaking, you had barely managed to open the letter all the way before you screamed. You had gotten into university with your dream major: dance.

Because of your excellent grades, you were able to pay a lot of your tuition with scholarship money alone. You hesitantly decided to quit your job at the convenience store to focus on university. Although quitting meant that your bank account would take a big hit, you decided that it would be best in the long run. There was a lot in your savings, and you even had a little extra to buy a new outfit for your first day of school.

Jisung had been busy on the first day of university. He had previously promised to show you around campus, but with him being a no-show, you wandered around by yourself to try to find your classes. You had trouble with the campus map at first, but after walking around for a bit, you were able to find all your classes with ease.

Your first few classes were a snore. Because they were all theory, you had to down two cups of coffee in order to stay awake. Somehow, you managed to take coherent notes despite being bored out of your mind. You just wanted to dance.

The good thing was, after sitting through many classes, your time to dance finally came. Your last class of the day was an introduction to dance course, and you couldn’t wait to go. You wanted to know your teacher, your peers, and most importantly, express yourself.

The dance class was in a studio in the university’s fitness center. It was huge, way bigger than the tiny gym in your high school. Upon entering the studio, you were immediately met with the sight of students, exactly like you, already stretching. You chose a spot in the room and started stretching as well, making good use of your time before the instructor comes in.

After some time, most of the students — including you — had finished stretching and were sitting in silence waiting for the instructor. The door swung open, breaking the silence. The instructor had come in.

“Hello new students,” he said, “welcome to Dance 100. Today, I will go through the curriculum with you as well as introduce your final project.”

The instructor whipped out a projection of the curriculum and started explaining the purpose of the course, what you would be graded on, and how you would be graded. He then read through his class expectations before moving to your final project.

“This final project will act in place of a final exam,” he explained. “You will be required to create a dance that includes everything we’ve learned in class and write an essay explaining all the elements in your dance. It will be worth half your grade.”

The class gasped in surprise. Not only did this project sound extremely difficult for a first year course, but the fact that it was worth half your grade made it borderline unfair.

“I know it might seem difficult, but worry not, you won’t be doing this alone. Every year, the first year dance students get mentored by the third year dance students for the final project. Each student has already been assigned a random mentor which will be introduced this class.”

The whole class murmured, talking amongst themselves and expressing their opinions on this project. It was definitely an interesting project. You hoped that you would be paired with a good mentor that would actually care about how well you did.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ah, this must be them.” Your instructor opened the door and a wave of third years came flooding in. Each one of them had a name tag pinned on their shirts. “Class, these are the third year students.”

You all politely greeted them.

“Now,” the instructor continued, “I will put the class list on the projector, and each of your names will correspond to a third year mentor.”

The instructor put out the list for display. You scanned down the list of names, eventually finding yours. Following the dots to your corresponding mentor, you almost choked on air when you saw yours.

It was Hwang Hyunjin.

You were at a loss for words. Just when you thought he was out of your life forever, the man that was so incredibly mean to you — the man you hated with your whole soul — was now your mentor. Just the thought of being in the same room as him filled you with disgust.

You scanned the sea of third year students, and your eyes immediately found him. He was staring back at you with the same shocked expression that you had on.

He looked different. Not only had he grown taller, but he had lost all his baby fat as well. His hair was different too. It was bleached blond and it almost hit his shoulders. What was the same, however, was his intense stare and his plump lips.

You walked over to him.

“You look different.” His eyes scanned up and down.

“So do you.” You clenched your jaw and sighed. “I guess we have to work together.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said flatly.

“Listen,” you copied his tone, “I’m not excited about this either, but I want to get a good grade for this class. If you don’t wanna help me, just say so and I’ll just work alone on this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he rolled his eyes, “this is part of my grade too. I can’t let you fuck this up for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes back at him and pressed your lips in a thin line. Ignoring what he said, you asked, “where do we start?”

“Let’s find a time to meet every week.” He pulled out the newest iPad model from his bag. Of course he would have the newest iPad. “I’m busy every day except Saturday, so let’s meet then.”

Way to consider your opinion. He was lucky that you weren’t busy on the weekends.

As Hyunjin worked on sorting his schedule, you took your time to look at how he had changed. With his hair blonde, he looked like a completely different person. You didn’t understand why he kept his hair long though. It kept falling in his eyes.

“Stop staring at me. It’s freaking me out.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t.” You crossed your arms, defending yourself.

“Whatever.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and put his iPad back in his bag. “Don’t be late on Saturday.”

And with that, he left. You looked around the class. Most of the other students were still with their mentors, presumably getting to know each other and discussing the project. You almost wanted to ask your instructor to switch with somebody else, but that would mean passing on the nightmare known as Hwang Hyunjin onto a perfectly innocent person. You had your moments, but you weren’t evil.

The interaction with Hyunjin had left you in a sour mood for the rest of the day. You tried to study, but you were too distracted by the thought of having to work with that monstrosity for a whole semester. It was worth so much of your grade, too. You had just hoped that Hyunjin was as good at dance as he previously told you. You remembered him saying how dance was his passion in life. That was when you still liked him. Who knows, maybe he only said that so he could play you like every other girl he played with.

For the rest of the week, whenever you thought of the dance project, you were filled with dread. You tried to ignore it, and sometimes it worked, but most of the time it kept reappearing in your mind like a virus. The way Hyunjin had infected your mind bothered you to no end.

Time passed fast though, and before you knew it, Saturday had already come. Searching through your closet, you picked out a simple outfit for practice today. You slid on your tattered old sneakers and headed off to the studio that Hyunjin had told you to go to.

Entering the dance studio, you noticed that you were right on time. However, Hyunjin was not. Great… He made such a big deal over you being on time that he himself forgot to be punctual. You sat on the wood floors and started to do some stretches to warm up.

Eventually, after you finished your stretching, he entered the studio. With a girl. Holding a textbook, Hyunjin handed it to the girl and put on his signature deceitful smile. His ugly, perfect smile. The girl batted her eyes and waved her fingers goodbye before strolling out the door. You rolled your eyes at this, feeling bad for the girl. Hyunjin was playing her right in front of her own eyes and she didn’t even realize it.

“Were you really late because of a girl?” you sneered.

“Why do you care?” he retorted, flinging his bag to the corner of the room.

“I don’t.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Not wanting to waste time with that childish banter, you decided to end the conversation then and there. “Okay, well anyways, I’ll show you what I learned in class this week.”

Hooking up your phone to the speaker, you chose the song that you’ve been practicing with for the whole week. As the song progressed, you found it hard to not get lost in the music. Just dancing was the easy part; incorporating everything learned in class was another story. Although it was fairly difficult, you thought you executed everything very well as the song came to an end. Finishing up, you panted from exhaustion and looked at Hyunjin for his comments.

He stood, with his arms crossed across his torso, leaning against the speaker. There was a blank expression on his face.

“Not bad.” He started to walk up to you.

“But?”

“But you’re too stiff. You’re too focused on perfectly executing the technical moves that you forget to just move your body. Do what you did half-way through the song again.”

You turned the music on, trying to do the dance with Hyunjin’s criticisms in mind. Looking in the mirror, you did your best to show as much emotion as possible, all the while moving more fluidly. The room was filled with heavy bass and the squeaks from your sneakers.

Suddenly, the music was abruptly cut off.

Hyunjin had stopped the music and was making his way over, face still unreadable.

“You’re still trying too hard and it shows.” Hyunjin shook his head.

Clenching your jaw, you did your best to hold back your anger. Were you just not supposed to try? This annoyed you. Just because he didn’t need to try to be good at anything didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Well,” you tried to say calmly, “how can I do this then?”

“You have to relax.” He put one hand on your hip and started to guide you. “Don’t focus on each individual aspect, but try to imagine everything as a whole. Then, things will come naturally.”

You followed his hand, allowing Hyunjin to guide you to his own rhythm. After a while, every movement felt so fluid and you didn’t even notice that your face started to match your movements. Glancing at your reflection, you gasped, noticing how different your dancing looked. You whipped your head to face Hyunjin, the two of your inches apart and breathing heavily.

“See,” he mumbled, looking down at you. “Once you stop thinking, everything just comes naturally.”

You looked back at the person inches away from you. It almost felt as if he was being kind. But you knew the type of person he was. You weren’t going to let this happen again. Snapping out of what weird trance you were in, you pushed him away in an act of self perseverance.

He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll try again,” you said.

Hyunjin strolled over to the speaker and turned on the music. This time, you didn’t think about anything you learned in class or Hyunjin’s criticisms. You just trusted in your body. Everything else was blank.

Taking a step forward while still in your trance, your shoe lost its grip on the floor, causing you to fall right on your knee. You cried in pain, holding on to your knee.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed. He ran over and bent down to your level. “Can you move it?”

“I think so.” You tried to straighten your knee. It hurt, but you were still able to do it. There would most likely be a nasty bruise there the next morning.

“You’re still wearing those scraps that you call shoes? They’re literally coming apart at the seams. This is going to happen again if you don’t get new ones.”

You blushed in embarrassment from his remarks. “I’m not going to spend money on things that I don’t need.”

“Well, you need shoes. Just go buy a new pair later.”

Was he being serious? Or was he just spoiled?

“Hyunjin, not everybody can just go spend money whenever they want,” you loudly sighed. “Unlike you, I need to consider my budget for most things.”

“Well, why can’t you ask your boyfriend to buy it?” he sneered. “Seems like you’re good at doing that.”

How did he know you were still dating Jisung? What did he mean by ‘good at doing that’?

“What?” You crossed your eyebrows. “Do you think I’m with him just for his money? Do I really look like that kind of person to you?”

“You used me for my money,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him right.

“Nevermind, rehearsal's over.” He stomped off, leaving you alone in the practice room holding on to your injured knee.

You busied yourself with everything and anything you could do over the weekend in order to forget what happened during rehearsal. However, no matter how hard you tried to forget, Hyunjin’s comments on your shoes stuck in your mind like glue.

During your shift at your job, you couldn’t help but keep staring at your worn sneakers. You never paid attention to your shoes before until now. They did the job, so why would you need to buy a new pair? Still, you unconsciously paid attention to every step you took.

On Monday’s dance class, you decided to go early. It was always nice to warm up in a room with other try-hards. They felt less judgemental than the others.

The studio barely had anybody in it this early before class. Everybody was either stretching or had already started going over what was taught last week. Shuffling your way over to your locker, you couldn’t help but compare everybody else’s shoes to your own. You’ve never cared about trivial matters such as shoes, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious as your worn-in sneakers squeaked its way over to the lockers.

Opening your locker, your eyes widened, shocked at what you saw. Inside was a box containing a brand new pair of sneakers. It was an expensive brand as well, a brand that you never thought you would be touching in your life. You turned your head around, scanning the room. Everybody seemed to have been busy with their own thing.

Did somebody put these in your locker by mistake?

Taking the shoes out, you noticed a small slip of paper fly out. You picked up the note.

Keep these. I was a jerk.

You knew who had sent this. It was Hyunjin. You didn’t know what game he was trying to play at, but you weren’t going to fall for it like you did that day in high school. Gingerly putting the shoes back in your locker, you decided to return these back to Hyunjin at your next practice.

“No, I gave them to you as a gift.” Hyunjin turned his nose up at you, refusing to take back the shoes.

“Why would you give these to me if you think that I only use people for their money?”

“Because,” he rolled his eyes, “if you’re unable to dance then my grade is screwed as well.”

He made a good point, but you were stubborn. “Still…”

“You know what? Keep it, give it away, sell it, I don’t care. Let’s just start practice.”

After that dance practice, you threw your old shoes in the trash.

It was midterm season a month into school. You thought you had gone to hell and back with high school, but this was even worse. Each day consisted of waking up, studying, and going back to sleep. You lived on coffee and toast. It wasn’t much, but it gave you the energy to sit at the library for hours to study.

You didn’t see anybody during the midterm season, Instead, you chose to hermit yourself up at the library for days on end. This meant that, at least for a couple of weeks, your dance practice with Hyunjin was put on hiatus. Not that he minded, of course. He happily deleted the practices from his schedule.

You also didn’t see much of your boyfriend, Jisung. Ever since school started, he seemed to always be missing in action. He would almost never have time to be with you, and with the few moments that he was, it seemed like he was always so apathetic towards you. You brushed this off as stress though, as you finally knew what it was like to experience university exams.

It was a clear and sunny day on the morning you finished your last midterm. Leaving the exam room, you looked up to the sky, basking in the sun. Today was going to be a good day. Not only were you now stress free, but you were also invited to an end-of-midterm party for your dance class tonight. You had never gone to a university party before, so when a classmate asked if you wanted to go, you eagerly accepted.

Wrapping up your dance class, you stood at your locker, gathering the rest of your stuff.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around you.

“Hey, Jisung.” You smiled, turning around to face him.

“You’re done all your midterms?”

“Yup.” You nodded happily.

He took a look at your shoes.

“New shoes?”

You hesitated in answering his question, not knowing where Jisung was with Hyunjin in terms of friendship. It was better to be truthful now rather than apologizing later.

“Hyunjin gave it to me.” You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. Why were you afraid of Jisung’s response?

“Wait, what? Hwang Hyunjin? Like from high school? Y/n, I thought you hated him.”

“I did! And I do,” you tried to explain, “but he had a reason to give me this.”

“Bullshit, Y/n. You’re really gonna believe any reason he pulls out of his ass? I thought you actually matured from high school.”

“Well, you would understand if you were around more often!” you yelled. You knew it was wrong to address other problems and blow this out of proportion, but you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was clouded with anger.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Jisung barked back. “What we’re talking about is how you, no matter how shitty of a person Hyunjin is, keep going back to him! Y/n, all that man does is take. He takes from you and he sure as hell takes everything from me. I won’t let that happen this time.”

When had he taken anything from you? All he had done was give.

“Jisung, let’s end this.”

“You’re right. Let’s cool down and talk later tonight.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I mean, let's end us.”

Jisung looked at you in disgust. “It’s Hyunjin, isn’t it?”

“No,” you vehemently denied, “Jisung, you never have time for me, and the little time we do have together you act like a different person. And now you’re being all possessive just because Hyunjin gave me a gift? I’m sorry, I just don’t see us recovering from this.”

“Fine, whatever.” Jisung turned around. “We’re done. But Y/n, don’t come running back to me when Hyunjin screws you over like he does with everybody.”

After Jisung left, you stomped your foot on the ground, tears pooling in your eyes. It was for the best — breaking up with him. For the past month, you hadn’t been happy with where your relationship was going, but this wasn’t the way you wanted to end an almost three year relationship.

Wiping away your tears, you tried to compose yourself before heading over to the pub. Jisung wasn’t worth the tears.

The walk to the pub wasn’t far as every establishment catered to students was a short walking distance from campus. For your entire walk over, you kept your head down so as to not receive looks from others. The headache from your cries and a blush of anger still lingered with you. Hopefully you’ll look somewhat normal by the time you reach the bar.

Checking your reflection once more in your phone camera, you fixed your hair a bit before going inside.

The bar was filled.

With students from both your dance class and the third year class, there was not an empty corner in sight. The music was loud, but the sounds of chatter coming from the students were louder. The place was dark, with the only source of light coming from very dim, bright blue LEDs.

It was surprising to see everybody in a different setting. You were used to the sight of your classmates being only in sweats and workout clothes, but now that they actually had time to get ready, everybody seemed like a completely different person.

You saw a few of your classmates wave at you, beckoning you over to where they were sitting. As soon as your butt landed on the chair, they spared no time to push a shot glass filled with clear liquor in front of you. You gladly took the drink, wanting to just let go and forget about everything that happened today. Holding back a cough, you scrunched your face as you felt the alcohol burn in your throat. It had been so long since the last time you drank.

After five you stopped counting. Partly because you knew you were going to drink more, but mostly because your head couldn’t even count to five anymore. Scrunching your eyes, you tried to focus on the blurry figure of your classmate complaining about her professor. Bored out of your mind as her mindless babble went on forever, your eyes started roaming around the bar. As your eyes wandered, you noticed somebody behind your classmate staring at you.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Even in your inebriated state of mind, you knew that it was Hyunjin. What other university student had the balls to bleach their whole head blonde? Your eyes met, and he ran a hand through his golden locks. Why do the most beautiful people harbour the most wretched personalities?

You tried to ignore his staring by focusing your attention back on your classmate, but eventually, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was still looking at you.

You saw a girl come up to him. She was the same girl that showed up with him on your first ever practice session. Because of the dimly lit bar and your drunken vision impairment, you had to really squint to make out what was going on. The girl, all smiley and giggly, put her hand on his shoulder, making Hyunjin break his eye contact with you. He smiled at the girl, mouthing words that were drowned out by the music. For some reason, this made you furious. Why was he so nice to everybody else but you? What had you ever done to him to make him hate you so much?

You kept your eyes on the girl, knowing full well that you shouldn’t have. You hated that — even on your night off, even when you had just broken up with your boyfriend — Hyunjin was still in your mind like an unkillable parasite. You hated the way he tucked his hair behind his ears. You hated how the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled at her. You hated him.

You watched as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear, causing him to laugh. That was the last straw. In a drunken haze, you took your phone and bolted out the door, ignoring the concerns of all your classmates. Maybe it had been a mistake breaking up with Jisung. Maybe he really did know what was best for you.

Stumbling out onto the street, you tried to dial Jisung’s phone number. It proved to be too difficult of a task, however, as your drunken fingers could only tap on random numbers on the screen. You cried out of frustration.

“Y/n.”

The voice coming from behind you startled you, causing you to lose your grip on the phone. It dropped on the cement with a loud crack. Tears welled up in your eyes as you bent down to pick up your phone. There was a huge crack right down the middle of the screen.

“You cracked my phone,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“So? It’s not like it’s worth much anyways. Just ask your boyfriend to buy you one.” Hyunjin’s evil eyes squinted down at you.

“Why are you still on about this? Hyunjin, I’ve never used anybody for money and I never will!” You couldn’t control the tears flowing down your face. “Plus, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I broke up with Jisung today.”

You didn’t know why you were spilling your guts to the last man in the world you would trust. Surely, it was the alcohol.

“Y/n.” His tone had completely changed. He almost looked — concerned?

“Whatever, Hyunjin,” you slurred. “Just leave me alone. You can go back to that girl and have your fun with her.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/n, why do you care?” His tone got louder.

“I don’t!” you yelled at him. Your tears made everything even more blurry.

“Y/n! Tell me, why do you care?!” He spat back at you with just as much fury.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. News flash, not everything in the world revolves around you and your rich and prestigious life. Maybe you wouldn’t be so toxic if you would just understand that.” You screamed at him through your sobs. “Also, I don’t know where you got this stupid story of my being a cash whore from, but I will say this one last time: I have worked for everything in my life and I have never and will never use anybody for their money.”

Hyunjin looked back at you, shocked. You stared back at him in disgust. Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, you stumbled down the street to look for a taxi. However, as you wobbled down the pavement, everything became even blurrier than before. You felt nauseous. You couldn’t control it anymore.

You threw up. All over the sidewalk. You couldn’t stop. Every time you thought that it was over, more and more came out. Your throat burned, and it wasn’t just the alcohol.

As you hurled out all the remains of today’s lunch, your hair was held back.

“Get away from me, Hyunjin,” you groaned. You didn’t want him to see you this weak.

“Who else is gonna take care of your drunk ass, idiot,” he mumbled.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

It was a blinding white light that woke you up. You groaned, trying to block the light with your forearm. Cracking your neck, you tried to holster yourself up.

You were on a leather couch. Squinting, you surveyed the room you were in. It was clean, spacious. The floor was a white marble — there wasn’t a single speck of dust to be seen. Across from you was an incredibly wide TV with many game consoles scattered around it. You looked behind you. There was a large kitchen island illuminated by warm pendant lights. Sitting at the island, on his laptop, was Hyunjin.

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“You’re the worst fucking drinker I’ve ever seen, that’s what happened.”

You rolled your eyes.

Hyunjin ignored you, standing up and leaving for another room. Less than a minute later, he reappeared with a toothbrush and a roll of toothpaste.

“Go clean up. You look disgusting.”

You snatched the toothbrush from his hands. He pointed over to the bathroom and you trudged your way over. His bathroom was huge, almost bigger than your bedroom at home. You felt as if you were in a hotel.

“Your bathroom is huge.” After washing up, you felt not only cleaner, but more awake. “You’re really living the life with your family’s money, huh.”

Hyunjin sighed, slamming his laptop shut causing you to flinch. “Why, after everything, do you think I’m this rich, pretentious fuck?”

You rolled your eyes. Not this again. “Well, why do you still think I’m this money hungry monster?”

“You really wanna know why, Y/n? It’s because Jisung told me so. He was the one who told me that all those years ago.”

You were shocked. Jisung was the one who told him that? Your ex-boyfriend that you had loved and dated for almost three years? You didn’t want to believe it, you really didn’t, but there was this tiny whisper in the back of your mind telling you that it was true. He had a reason to — Jisung was always going on about how Hyunjin always took from him.

“But Y/n, I-” He stopped mid-sentence.

“You what, Hyunjin?”

He pressed his lips to yours, caressing the back of your head. You were shocked, but almost autonomously, your lips parted feeling the heat of his breath against yours. He pressed his body to yours, running his hand down your waist. His lips, the same lips responsible for his perfect smile, felt so soft against your own. You heard the thuds of his heartbeat as he held you closer.

You broke apart, gasping for breath. The realization of what you had done just hit you.

In a panic, you used your whole strength to push his body away from you. “I-I have to go.”

“Y/n, wait!” Hyunjin called.

You paid him no attention. Instead, you ran across the marble floors, hoisted the front door open, and sprinted out. Hoping that Hyunjin wasn’t following you, found your way outside and took a taxi home.

You sat in silence, trying to process what had just happened. You had just kissed Hyunjin. You had just kissed Hyunjin. Hands shaking, you grasped at the ends of your hair, trying to calm yourself down. Did that just happen?

You were more mad at yourself than at him. How could you have just kissed Hyunjin? You hated him. He was nothing but rude to you, never smiling and always accusing you of things that were clearly lies. He made you feel self conscious, nervous, and everything in between. You hated him.

But he was so sweet on that fateful day in high school. He gave you a new pair of shoes when you had slipped during practice, and he held your hair for you when you were drunk. His hair glistened in the sunlight, his smile made your heart race, and his lips ignited sparks of every colour in the rainbow in your chest.

You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated how fast you became infatuated with him on that day in high school, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, you hated that your feelings haven’t changed ever since. You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated that you loved him.

Curling up in your bed, there was no stopping the tears flowing down your face. You cried and cried upon this realization, and you remained this way for the rest of the day. The effect Hyunjin had on you was bigger than you ever expected, and you hated it.

At school, you tried to avoid as many people as possible. The kiss you had shared with Hyunjin was plaguing your mind, distracting you and igniting the fire that was your inner turmoil. Even the thought of Hyunjin put a strain in your heart. It was the way his breath fanned over your nose, gently tickling it like a bird’s feather and the soft silk of his blonde locks brushing up against your cheeks.

You shook your head, trying to erase any and every thought of that man. Walking to your locker, you were stopped in your tracks, the dam in your eyes starting to crack. You couldn’t do this today. You turned around to go somewhere else — anywhere else.

“Y/n, wait.”

You sniffed, wiped stray tears from your eyes, and picked up your pace.

“Y/n.” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

“Hyunjin, please, I can’t do this today.”

“Are you… Are you crying?” He touched your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Y/n, why are you crying?”

You shook your head. You were scared of what would happen if you opened your stupid mouth.

“Y/n, please.” Hyunjin begged. His voice was shaking. “Tell me why.”

You shook your head again.

“Y/n, please.” His voice cracked.

“Hyunjin,” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “it’s because I love you. I’ve loved you ever since the first moment you smiled at my pathetic ass. Even when you hurt me more than anyone has hurt me before… I never had a choice, Hyunjin. It’s always been you.”

You tore yourself away from Hyunjin, embarrassed to your core. That was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever done, but at least you had closure now.

“Y/n…”

“No, Hyunjin. You’ve torn me down and humiliated me enough already. What more could you possibly want?” You demanded, aware that everybody around you was staring.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin rasped, “It’s only ever been you. I’ve spent the last three years miserable knowing that you were with someone else. I’ve-I’ve never even been with another girl in the past three years. I know you have no reason to believe me because I was such an ass. I am such an ass. Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for projecting my insecurities on you, I’m sorry for accusing you of things I know you’ve never done, and I’m sorry for anything else I might have fucking done. Y/n, I love you. Please, I don’t fucking deserve it, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

You stared at Hyunjin’s bloodshot eyes, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, and before you could even think, you found yourself pressed against his lips. Your eyes closed, savouring the feeling of his soft lips touching your own. His wet cheek pressed against your own, and with a nudge of the nose, Hyunjin deepend the kiss with a raw passion in which you’ve never felt before.

You cradled his head, relishing in his silken blonde hair as you brushed your fingers through his locks. He sighed in response, his breath tickling against your cheek. You were fully aware that everyone on campus had seen both your messy confessions of love, but you didn’t care. All you could do was replay the moment that Hyunjin had said those words — those three tiny words — over and over in your head as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his soft, honey lips.

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it-begins-with-rain · 2 years ago

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if you dont mind me asking, when did you get into seventeen? i've been following you for years now (back when i was still into tog/acotar), got into svt just over a year ago, and now find it a cute coincidence that you listen to them too!

Ooo! Maasdom follower who is also SVT fan!!

So... I want to explain something first to explain something second, lmao.

FIRST::

I've had an ear to kpop since about 2008, part of a fandom I will not name but your hint is they are famous for how overwhelmingly toxic they are.

Fell in love with the Korean language and dramas, actually lived in Korea in college and Seoul is the most beautiful city on the planet (I lived in Wonju which isn't bad, but isn't as amazing as Seoul).

And then the group that I had been following entered their... how to say... image-destruction-phase. It was like they were addicted to saying shit that exposed how rude and arrogant they were IRL, one guy just let his homophobia hang out there for the whole world to see and waved it around proudly.

Amidst all of that (the homophobic one actually came out as homophobic a week after this, so it hadn't happend yet but it was the nail in the coffin) I had somehow become a fandom leader against my will, known for being able to play CSI: Fandom (because of an emotionally unstable former friend I had to keep talking off ledges by getting to the root of scandal rumors). It was exhausting and people were fucking stupid. My stance on idols is they’re grown ass adults (mostly). Who the fuck gives a shit if they’re dating someone or whatever? Honestly I was so sick of the bullshit.

Anyways

A former member of the group released a solo album and it just... wasn't my taste at all. I didn't say anything against it by any means, but someone sent me an ask saying they'd noticed I wasn't reblogging.

I said ONLY "It's just not my genre, but I wish him luck" and within 15 minutes I had 12 messages either threatening my life or telling me to kill myself. Because of those words.

That was when I was like "You know what, fuck all of this" and bailed. That was around 2012-ish. I refused to go anywhere near kpop with a 10 foot stick after that. If I saw news, it was because it hit CNN or BBC (so the tragic deaths and the Burning Sun Scandal which was just INSANE, like, omg). But that was it. And btw I still dont' listen to that group I used to listen to. I fully will not touch their stuff.

SECOND:

So that was a big ass mountain blocking me from being willing to even consider kpop. But a dear friend of mine was very much into it and just like once in a blue moon I'd notice a post on my dash that was kpop from her, but I ignored it.

In mid-2020, a fuck ton of bad shit went down even on top of all the COVID stuff. Like, at one point I genuinely considered driving into a wall (except I was buried alive under responsibilities) and it just got incredibly hard and incredibly dark. My personality- I can't ask for help. I just can't. IDK why, it's a huge block for me.

So that friend, my darling Sarah, who reblogged kpop stuff I rarely saw, a GIFset came across my dash that I was just so exhausted and defeated I didn't even have the energy to scroll past and decided to read it. It was Seventeen in that group blitz episode of Going Seventeen where they hit the inflatable obstacle course.

And it made my heart feel not quite as heavy for a few seconds. Maybe I even cracked half a smile.

I kept dragging myself on, and I saw the GIFset again and in another defeated day, I looked it up on Youtube (had to play it at 70% speed, those psychos talk FAST) and watched it.

And... it made me genuinely smile.

So I watched all of Going Seventeen over the next several months. Then about 6 months in I decided to listen to one of their songs (Hoshi- Spider) and loved it. Started listening to more of their music, found out Carat are actually extremely chill and extremely dorky, the opposite of the fan club I'd been part of before.

So I joined Carat formally (i'd never done that with the Fandom That Must Not Be Named, Carat is my first fanclub :) ) and I just... enjoy them.

They got me through some really incredibly dark times, just being able to watch something lighthearted and simple and funny. Like, I know it’s cliche to say, I know they'll never know that, they probably wouldn't give a shit, they probably hear it 150,000 times a day. It doesn't matter. The dumbassery helped me a lot, and I'm grateful for that.

And this year I got to go see them live in concert with my darling Sarah, the same week I got the news that my mother's cancer (which we were told was terminal) was in full remission and she's one of only a few cases her doctors have ever SEEN to go into remission, and just...

That was way more info than you were asking for, but that's it. Their dorky, probably-licks-bus-windows charm was just simple and yet funny enough that it helped me breathe when that felt impossible, and so I like them :)

#ask #seventeen

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isagisyoichi · 4 years ago

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how do u think the boy would be in a party😈😈

NEW RULES!

SYNOPSIS: blue lock at a party

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, rin, chigiri, naruhaya, niko, nanase, gagamaru, kunigami

WARNINGS: mentions of underage drinking and weed (but no one actually takes anything), swearing, mentions of throwing up and food, again pretend they're all friends and go to the same school because it's more fun to think that way. ooc rin maybe? idk i like pretending he's not as miserable as the manga makes him out to be 🤗 he deserves to have fun i think

A/N: no cause this was soooo fun to write tysm anon, i got through this in a flash cause i loved this suggestion sm :') literally one of the most fun requests i've ever gotten eeee!!!!! also this made me miss my irls bye corona can suck my balls fr

ISAGI YOICHI:

i feel like this would be his first big party aw lol, so he’s kind of nervous LMAO.

gets handed a beer by someone, has his first sip of it ever, and immediately spits it out. mutters “how the hell can anyone drink this?” and “discreetly” pours the rest into a bush.

mainly stays with nagi, chigiri, kunigami, and bachira and they just talk throughout the night

(bachira only sits down and talks after his energy dies down. i'll elaborate on this below the cut).

keeps asking nagi “what song is this?” throughout the night LOL. makes a mental note of what songs to add to his playlists.

slightly nods his head to the music, aw cute. goes a little harder and lip syncs/raps along when he really likes the song, though (i stand by my word when i said he loves “neon guts”)

does accidentally bump into someone, but isagi starts a convo with them after he apologizes, and they hit it off right away 🥰

but, the person left early and isagi, ever the dummy, forgets to ask for their number.

and he's actually so disappointed in himself when he realizes, too 😭

BACHIRA MEGURU:

not drunk or anything at all, but boy, the way he’s acting makes it seem like he is.

the self proclaimed “life of the party.”

can be found “dancing,” though i use that word generously because to classify whatever he’s doing as “dancing,” is a stretch, to every song, even if he doesn’t know the words LOL

really likes when throwbacks come on!!!! he does dance to the lyrics and not the beat sometimes, though 😭

but, bachira looks like he’s having so much fun, it’s so cute, he’s definitely been waiting for this moment his whole life 🥰

if you were dancing with him, bachira would 100% take you by the hand and spin you around

also forces gets isagi to dance with him but isagi’s so awkward 😭

bachira also ends up jumping in the pool sometime later that night. yells “cannonball!” and everything, like, okay michael phelps 😭

he doesn’t have extra clothes so reo has to give him some and they're so fucking big on him LOLLL

texts the groupchat “i was sooo crazy last night😂” in the morning LMAOO, okay babe calm down

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE:

takes it upon himself to make sure none of his friends die LOL

only drinks water and diet coke 👍

his mom calls in the middle of the party to ask how he's doing and bachira and nagi are doing stupid shit like yelling “pass the weed” and fake moaning 😭

isagi and chigiri tell him to tell her they say hi LOL

really likes when the dj puts on 90s/2000's r&b/hiphop songs (i'll die by my hc that kunigami's an oldies fan)

mostly sways side to side to the music, but he did also dance a little, per request of bachira, and ended up talking to a cute person a for little, too 🤗

offers to help clean up in the morning

CHIGIRI HYOUMA:

at least two drunk girls have mistaken him for their friend, and another four have asked to touch his hair.

tried to use one of reo’s many bathrooms, found a couple making out, outwardly said “gross,” and then left to find another one 😭

nods his head and taps his foot to the music, not much of a dancer.

also a people-watcher, and he points out things he sees are happening to his friends.

“guys, i think misa and her boyfriend are breaking up, look.” leave that poor girl alone bro 😭

finds himself laughing a lot that night because damn! his friends are funny, whether they try to be or not.

not really a party person, but chigiri actually had a lot of fun 🥰

NARUHAYA ASAHI:

also on the dancefloor! doesn’t really dance, per say, but he jumps up and down and does the fist pump thing 😭 he has the spirit, let's give him that.

drank a lot of soda, so he’s filled with energy. also pees in at least three of reo's bathrooms.

talks to his friends, but also makes new ones! also i feel like he takes a lot of pictures LOL. he needs the finsta content 😭

plays truth or dare, or something like that. ends up having to do some stupid shit like smack raichi’s ass and run away, but naruhaya did make out with the girl next to him, so fair trade, he thinks.

also ends up in the pool, but he’s playing chicken with gagamaru and some other people. does not win a single round, but he had fun 😇

leaves with like four plates of food and one of reo’s decorative towels for some reason???

GAGAMARU GIN:

goes through a bunch of reo's shit 😭 he's not taking anything, but he's just curious LOL

strikes up very, random conversations with a bunch of people out of nowhere, good for him!

weirdly good at darts, very good aim.

although one round, naruhaya accidentally distracted gagamaru and one of darts ended up in reo's wall 💔

“it's fine, he has the money to fix it,” naruhaya shrugs as he walks away from reo's now punctured, wall. so true bestie!

gagamaru somehow ends up giving some drunk stranger some “life-changing” advice. (whether it's good or not is debatable)

they thank gagamaru for changing their life and he never sees them again

NAGI SEISHIRO:

irritates the fuck out the dj because nagi keeps asking him to play one specific song over and over again.

it was good the first time, don't wear it out for the rest of us bae 😭

doesn't really dance, just nods his head, maybe raps along a little, too

when he talks to the girls that come up to him, nagi says stuff like “yeah, the host and i go way back, we’re best friends.”

“way back,” my ass, but whatever nagi 🤨

knocks out in one of reo’s guest rooms. someone finds him when they’re trying to look for the bathroom and they draw a mustache and a bunch of other stupid shit on him 😭

tries to leave before reo makes him help clean up in the morning. does not work 👍

dumbass also ended up losing his phone (reo bought him a new one so nagi doesn't really care)

RAICHI JINGO:

gasses himself up sooo much when he’s trying to hit on girls.

“yeah, i'm about to go D1 after high school, just wait on it,” yeah, okay raichi 🙄

also tries to show them his highlights, bye. babe, i mean this in the nicest possible way but, i do not care, can we just kiss 🙏

i feel like he’s one of those boys who likes to take his shirt off for no reason, so raichi most definitely ends up shirtless at some point of the night 😭

takes pictures with reo’s fancy cars in his garage to flex 💀 gets annoyed when reo says raichi can’t drive them. raichi doesn't even have his license 😑

plays pool and is actually not that bad. does almost accidentally blind isagi with his cue, though.

IMAMURA YUUDAI:

he's with some girls but, he’s a dummy and he didn’t know his other hoes would be there, so imamura had quite a few drinks spilled on him here and there.

still somehow leaves with like three new girls snaps, four numbers, and a bunch of lipstick stains. not even gonna lie, i respect his game.

actually a really good dancer, and he knows he looks good, too. knows the words to every drake song that comes on, argue with your mom.

lip-syncs the words to you when you dance together and it makes you more flustered than you would think 🙄

the type to pull you close and wraps his arms around your waist or around your neck

actually really fun to talk to. always in the loop with drama and stuff, so he's always got some interesting conversation topics. and he's funny 😭

MIKAGE REO:

obviously, the party’s at his house. what’s the point of having a rich teammate if you can’t exploit them for their possessions?

jokes, but reo did offer to throw it at his mansion house in the first place.

actually really likes throwing parties lmao, so he jumped at the opportunity.

posted on his snap, “party at my place su for address‼️” LOL

natural charm + raised with good manners = reo being an amazing host

but, reo does have a little group of girls following him around the entire night 👎

and it irritates the hell out of whoever reo’s trying to talk to because they’re all up on him, making it hard for reo to pay attention 😑

also doesn’t help that he entertains them and flirts back and dances with a couple of them, too

and looks good when he dances, too UGH!!!! he's the type to run his hands up and down your body while he dances with you 😣

i hate this man 👎 /j

ITOSHI RIN:

practicing. he didn’t come. sike! rin has a social life, too, come on now, y'all 🙄

talked a big game about how he wouldn’t show up then he still came anyways, like rin, what 😭??

super good at cup pong and he knows it. he keeps beating ryusei and if you look closely, rin has something reminiscent of a smirk on his face.

a foot-tapper, not a dancer, which sucks because he’s not even bad at dancing, either 👎

a couple of girls come up to rin to flirt, but rin doesn’t give them the time of day. no response or anything just a little side eye 😭

rin just talks to his friends and that’s it, really.

actually internally glad for the chance to kickback and relax for once, tbh.

but, he refuses to admit he had any semblance of fun. (he did, rin’s just a weenie 😒)

NIKO IKKI:

the team forced him to come 😭

niko’s already a homebody and he doesn’t like loud noises or large social scenes, so he wasn’t too jazzed about going somewhere where the both of those things combine.

also he's picky with music so LOL. does like that one remix to the pursuit of happiness, though

he’s a wall-stander, i hate to break it to y’all. just watched everything from a distance and didn't talk to anyone except for isagi and his friends.

bye, if you don’t get off the damn wall and dance (he'd dance with me i'm different 🥰🤗)

keeps opening and closing his phone so he looks busy but that mf is literally just going through the settings app 😭

called his mom to bring him home an hour and a half in 👎

NANASE NIJIROU:

i hate to admit it, but he’s the annoying first year that documents everything on snap bye

he’s just excited to be there but like, there is no reason for his story to be half an hour long.

i'm not watching all of that! sorry that happened to you or good for you 🤗

probably playing games like spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven. is very proud of himself for kissing four people in one night #bigmoves 🥳

stays with his group of friends and they're sooo loud and rowdy LMAOO. #firstyearthings

you can literally hear them laughing over the music, but they're having fun, so it's fine (at least of those kids hits people when they laugh too)

also dances, too! has super good energy and a natural sense of rhythm surprisingly 🥰 also a good hypeman!!!!! honestly, he's just really fun to be around tbh

overall, has a lot of fun, as you can tell by his story 😇

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tittyinfinity · 2 years ago

Text

Took my seroquel way too late last night and just woke up (it's 1:55pm)

Anyway I'll type out what I can remember from my dream before I forget

I was doing work training at a place that was both a restaurant and a store combined. It wasn't very big, but here's the thing. They put the dining booths in the middle of the store isles, so you had to walk around them to shop. The owner said "if our restaurant customers can see our other products they're more likely to buy them."

I'm like "yeah, sure, but then people coming here for the store will be annoyed by having to walk around them."

"Does it look like they're annoyed?"

The store was full, customers shopping, inoring the tables in the isles. So yeah, I guess they didn't care.

After waiting on some tables, my boss comes up and gives me a bag. She says that it's a gift for the employee of the month, and since she was leaving, I had to give it to him. "His name is on the front; he has brown curly hair and he's kinda tall."

The bag says "For Chala Chango, 2nd/3rd shift". I look around, and every employee is a tall teenage white boy with short curly brown hair. I start asking each one where I can find Mr. Chango. They ignore me. My friend hunter walks up, says my shift is over, and he'll take over. He is also a tall white boy with curly brown hair, but he's 30 IRL.

I drive home, where I'm living in a large trailer with two girls with rainbow hair and an undercut. They start arguing about whether or not one of them could call themselves a lesbian if she slept with a guy in the past. I'm like, oh God, I live with people who get off on tumblr discourse. So I start driving to my son's grandma's instead.

You have to drive down this super long rural road to get there, just like IRL. Except when you get there, it's a whole neighborhood with houses that looked identical to the ones on the street I grew up in, except reversed. There was a fluffy calico cat outside, so I don't go in, I sit in the driveway to pet the cat. Then a Bengal kitty that looks exactly like a mini-leopard walks up. I pet her, but then her spots keep printing onto my skin so now I have leopard hands.

I suddenly remember that I took Chala's gift home with me, so now I have to go back to deliver it to him. I get there and my coworkers start yelling at me because I'm not wearing my work pants despite not being on the clock. They said I still WAS on the clock because I never even clocked out before I left.

Hunter walks up and asks what's up. I show him the bag. He says "Chala won't be in for another 4 hours. I don't know why boss gave this to you. I'll take it to him."

I hand him the bag, noticing again that my hand is full leopard print. "Hunter, look at what this cat did to me! It was like a printer!"

He grabs my hand and looks at it like half an inch from his face. I notice that one of his eyes is now foggy and glossed over. "Sorry, this job has made me blind in one eye. What are you trying to show me again?"

"How did this job do that?"

"Angry customer."

".....oh God. Okay."

I decide to do some shopping. As I'm walking around, I see the girl who runs the one-time-i-dreamt blog. I walk up to her and say "wanna hear something funny? You're IN a one-time-i-deamt now!"

She stares at me with wide eyes until a group of men in tuxedos walks up and surrounds her. They mention that she has to have bodyguards because people aren't supposed to recognize her in dreams.

I go home, and that one fucker y'all always post about, Jerma, is there. I'm like. What the fuck, all I've ever seen of him outside of a million memes is when I watched 5 minutes of his sims role playing video.

He tells me that he's dating the one-time-i-dreamt girl (forgot her name, sorry). He says I'm not allowed to like her unless I'm Polish. I'm like. That's not even where she's from

He looks sad for a second. Almost betrayed. He holds his hand out and says "come with me." I touch his hand and now somehow I now have feelings for this man. He does not provoke any emotion for me in real life. So I'm like what the fuck, okay.

But then I start remembering my ex and how good he fucked, so I was like no, I'm staying here. Then he just. Evaporated into thin air

I go home and my roommates are asleep, so I invite hunter over. I tell him about my day. "That's crazy, man" he says.

~dream end~

Fuck you tumblr

#dani #seroquel dreams

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0clu · 3 years ago

Text

slipknot x splatoon because i feel the need to combine my interests all the time

originally i was gonna have all 12 here but i decided to keep it as the original 9 we all know and love since i hardly even know the new members.. i would have loved to have them under here tho

so basically these guys arent really an actual team (yet) but they do have scrimages with eachother. like all the time. everyone has basically the same traits and personalities as their irl human counterparts.

i went off of vibes i get from them btw

------

#0 Sid Wilson

Inkling

• he has the rat/ray tail

• most annoying skirmisher..

• inkbrush main all day

• sucks at zipcaster and corey berates him for it

• A rank isnt treating him well but he doesnt care. hes just having fun (joyful little guy he is)

• loves qr ssu and ninja squid

• you know he has the record player in his locker

• dj

#1 Joey Jordison

Octoling

• reliable frontline slayer

• if the dapple dualies has only 1 fan on earth its him.

• also plays jr and sploosh 7

• could get top 500 if he wanted to but he doesnt care much abt it

• prefers nouveau to vanilla despite its special

• still pops reefslider like its splashdown

• plays in a band

#2 Paul Gray

Inkling

• midline

• average mini splat/nautilus main

• misses the zink variant from years ago (the old bubbler)

• just your basic S ranker, good but not the best

• comes up with the wackiest comp ideas

• "what if we all used weapons with splash wall as the sub... or quad big bubbler on tc"

#4 Jim/James Root

Inkling

• anchor

• heavy splatling, ballpoint

• came from greater inkopolis (is that what they call it?)

• him moving made his rank reset from S back down to B- so now hes scared to touch ranked

• "im a backline, man... what if my teammates are fucking braindead?" ion know

• new to the group so doesnt really know these guys

• got in from a tryout session

#3 Chris Fehn

Octoling

• midline slayer

• used to be insane with the sting ray special before it got banned

• shotpro main and jet dick rider for life

• never thought abt gear building until like a year ago, its amazing how he even got to X rank running opening gambit on jet.

• pinocchio mask in his locker he sometimes wears to turf war

#5 Craig "133" Jones

???

• slayer

• wiper. lives and dies by the sword

• he just kinda popped up one day

• ...

• him talking is like a big foot sighting

• really good. like... super good... almost mick level

• everyone wonders what the hell he mained before splatanas were a thing

• well decorated locker. nice color theory

#6 Shawn Crahan

Octoling

• anchor but can be mid for faster comps

• explo is his babby. slosher is nice too

• 'they dont know i served in the octarian army'

• was basically the groups leader 24/7 until corey came

• his strongest feat is making strategic decisions and pop up plans for the team

• has been S+/X rank for yearsss

• probably responsible for some of the map callouts you hear today (ex. skipper pavilion, blackbelly skatepark)

• his locker has a dried squid corpse playing a miniature drum set inside

#7 Mick Thomson

Inkling

• as anchor as it gets

• "do you ever play anything other than 5k??" "...5k scope"

• frequent top 500 in tc and rm

• wants the original eliter 4k to make a comeback

• evil charger main #666

• will talk you to death about chargers and their history

• his locker just has a singular eliter in it

• "come into MY house, suck MY dick, call ME gay?!?" incarnate

#8 Corey Motherfuckibg Taylor

Inkling

• the most "splatlands born and raised 💀" guy ever

• aggro midline

• 💞flingza💞, stamper

• hates big swig it feels like a knock off flingza to him

• S rank isnt treating him well and he does care. bro is suffering

• some know him as "the great big mouth"

• no ass unfortunately

• shawn saw him in turf war once and immediately went and got him to join his team afterwards

• was found as a soggy flingza main but gradually learned to have great team spirit and become a good leader :D

• just kinda puts shit in his locker.

• joey says he has frontman energy

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #slipknot #sid wilson #joey jordison #paul gray #chris fehn #jim root #james root #craig jones #shawn crahan #mick thomson #corey taylor #splat 3 #nu metal #numetal #splatoon oc

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agent-grey-fics · 2 years ago

Text

Holy fucking shit I’m so annoyed with my ex. Like I had this on and off thing with a guy for almost 5 (!!) years, I know that I’m stupid for keeping it going for that long. Anyway, we kinda grew apart but kept in touch through socials and hooked up now and then. I was head over heels in love with him ‘cause my traumatic ass didn’t know any better. Fast forward to me finding the tiniest bit of self respect and banning him from my life for a solid 2 years during the pandemic, trying to move on. (Even explaining to him why I need him out of my life and he agreeing with me and saying I should have done it sooner ‘cause he treated me terribly. He did, believe me. All my friends actually hate him because he was awful to me and emotionally manipulated and abused me for so long. For example, he would often tell me that no one else would ever love me cause I wasn’t pretty enough, calling me a whore when he was high or drunk and stuff like that )

I had 2 good years of quarantining with my dorm mates, living life away from my hometown, then life slowly starts again and me and my friends (from my hometown) start to hang out and go to parties again. Surprise, I see him at those parties ‘cause my friends are kinda his friends. Well, we all went to high school together but they were originally my friends so yeah more his acquaintances. Me not wanting to be a bitch, I don’t make a big deal of it that he tags along and I’m being polite, giving him a small smile whenever he joins but keeping my distances.

He had send me follow/friend requests on fb and insta as well so I was like ‘yeah why not, we can be civil’. BUT then he fucking starts ignoring me at those parties whiles he stands next to me, like not reacting to my attempts to smalltalk, just giving me an off look and taking to the person next to me. Like dude, you literally walked up to our group and choose to stand next to me, if you don’t wanna talk to me go stand somewhere else?

Whiles he ignores me irl, he starts liking all my insta pics, commenting on my stories etc. My drunk ass one night send him a ‘you up’ text, big fucking mistake, he wasn’t in town btw so nothing happened but the whole night he kept texting me saying that he always loved me and that he just never knew how to show it and that changed for the better. Then he start texting me things like ‘we should date gain’, ‘let me take you out’, ‘let us try again’.Stuff like that and I know it’s my fucking fault cause I bootycalled him but I told him the day after like ‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair I’m not looking for anything else. Apologies, won’t happen again’. But he keeps asking me out and I keep declining ‘cause I don’t want to see him one on one. I wake up one morning a couple of days later to a notification on my phone that he deletete a bunch of text that he had sent me. And he texted ‘I said some vulnerable things that I don’t want you to use against me’ LIKE YOU SHITHEAD YOURE THE ONE WHO LITERALLY DID THAT FOR AS LONG AS WE WERE DOING WHATEVER WE WERE DOING. IM IN LITERAL THERAPY BECAUSE I DONT TRUST MEN ANYMORE BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU DID AND I WANTED TO BE DECENT AND NOT MEAN AND LET YOU IN MY LIFE AGAIN AND THEN YOU ACT LIKE A FUCKING BABY?

I was soooo mad back then. Anyway, couple of weeks pass by and he keeps reacting to my stories and asking questions. This leaves me all confused ‘cause I figured he was done since deleting all these texts. Me being done with his shit choose to ignore him.

Fast forward to last week, I noticed that I lost followers on my socials. Turns out that he unfollowed me, like big deal idc. But then I was wondering just a couple of minutes ago if he unfollowed me or blocked me, so I look for his name in my DM’s on insta AND THIS FUCKER DELETE ALL HIS TEXT SINCE I TURNED HIM DOWN. Like they were still there like a fucking week ago ‘cause he reacted to one of my stories again and I opened it and I remember seeing alle his DM’s.

I get so mad over this, like why you acting like this? I strongly believe that he’s dating someone, like good for him ‘cause we were toxic for each other. But stop acting like a child and like you’re the victim here whiles we both know what fucking happened.

And this whole rant sounds stupid and pathetic, I know that. But he was for real the first guy I ever loved, the only one actually. I even believed that when we both would graduate Uni and work a couple of years and mature that we would find our ways back to each other and end up getting married. I would have taken him back in a heartbeat if he got his act back together. But now he just makes my blood boil by acting so childish and deleting his text and oh my god ughhhh.

I know I’m as much at fault with this whole situation as he is and that ignoring him wasn’t right. But if I tell someone +3 times that I don’t want to date them and they keep trying and texting yeah sorry but then I won’t respond anymore.. but deleting your texts come one dude.

Sorry I just had to let this out.

#situationship

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scmsdivinecultists · 4 years ago

Text

What your fave SCM god says about you

I read one psychology article and now I’m all knowing. Hope at least one of these points apply to you simps

If your favourite is Leon, you are one of the following:

Youngest child

Outcast or the “popular” kid

Daddy issues

Your childhood dream was either to be royalty or be rich

You hyperfixate to many things

You might say ur not charismatic but you’ve had at least more than 1 person you rejected a love confession to

“You’re wrong, I’m right, shut up.”

You don’t fall in love easily but once you do, you fall hard

You like smug bastards or you have a bondage fantasy

Your favourite voltage game is one of the following: Kissed by the Baddest Bidder, Court of Darkness, Masquerade’s Kiss, or Kings of Paradise

You have fairy lights in your room filled with pictures or posters

You had a massive friend group but at least 5 people have left from then to now

You cling onto memories like they’re a lifeline

You have the latest phone or more than 3 leisure electronics

If your favourite is Scorpio:

You can’t be any taller than 5′6

You probably listen to bands and can’t go anywhere without your headphones

Really creative

Your favourite Shakespeare play was Hamlet or Macbeth

Have had or is going through an emo phase

Hates writing essays

Have 3 best friends max

You have definitely bought albums, posters, or merch of your faves

ur probably a weeb

you’ve broken a bone or you’re very knowledgeable in the medical field/how to harm the human body for some reason

dark humour is the best humour

Your friends are very concerned for you because of said humour

You like watching people play Monopoly bc of the chaos

into so many fandoms that you know the lore of your faves more than you know the material you learn at school

If your favourite is Teorus:

You are an only or youngest child

Spoiled

Daddy/Mommy issues

Abandonment issues

You feel like you fade into the background/don’t contribute much to the group

You feel like you are often forgotten

You’re close with your cousins

You probably have a pet

Taylor Swift or 1D for life

Have definitely threatened to kill or beat someone up despite you intimidating no one

You want to play an important role but you are so not the leader type

You like Ouran Host Club

You like the outdoors

You probably like To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

Your favourite disney princess is Rapunzel or Cinderella

If your favourite is Huedhaut:

You are definitely a romantic

You’re not an air sign (Gemini, Aquarius, or Libra)

You’re a moron or you make bad decisions and Hue is there to help balance that out

Chances are you read more fanfic than actual books

Your system is 70% caffeine

For some reason you have lots of random trivia

Have you considered therapy for your suppressed trauma?

Dungeons and Dragons fan

You’re really into alcohol or you despise it

Loyalty is the trait you admire most

You want to feel like a sassy and classy bitch but you gave up after 2 days

Your favourite ship trope is enemies to lovers or slow burn

A lot of pent up angst but you hide it

you put other people > yourself bc you don’t want them to make the same mistakes you did

Why do you have so many memes saved?

Why do you have reaction pictures for everything?

If your favourite is Dui:

You’re probably not into guys

FAKE IT TILL YOU MAKE IT

Either you’re a precious sunshine child or you are the most fucked up human in your friend circle

You have a choking kink

You either take sides in fights or you’re the middle ground

You make lots of threats but no one is acc taking them seriously

You probably are a massive manipulator

You’re psychotic and have violent tendencies

Your best friend lives far away from you/ you have an internet friend that gets you more than your IRL ones

You say honesty is the best policy but you lie the most

Everyone comes to you for advice but you think you’re the most mentally unstable

You have identity issues and u change ur mind all the time

Whatever you were as a kid, you’re probably the opposite of that now

If your favourite is Ichthys:

You are attached to the characters with the most trauma

You must not be a clean freak or your room is equally as messy as Ikky’s

Oldest or middle child (either way u have siblings)

Never got to go to an amusement park as a kid

Want attention/didn't get enough attention as a kid

You want Ichthys’ parents to adopt u bc they are the family stability you crave

Unresolved trauma and definitely not mentally stable

You liked dinosaurs as a kid

You had pet fish as a kid and they all died bc you overfed them

Using anything else to escape ur reality

Cartoons > real life actors

Probably hate seafood or afraid of the sea (ironic as it is)

Nostalgia is your best friend

Hurt/Comfort is your favourite AO3 tag

You collect random shit or you have a memory box

You are the reason child leashes were invented

You got into real dangerous situations as a kid and you’re wondering how you lived through that

Your comfort characters all got it the worst or are dead

If your favourite is Zyglavis:

How are those high expectations treatin ya?

You either want to get into medical, sciences, or law

When you were younger you got enrolled in extra classes (swimming, piano, ballet, etc)

Your parents encouraged creativity until you got older and they told you to choose a more “realistic” goal

Good grades = everything and you’ll pull all-nighters to finish tasks or assignments

Former gifted student

The actual smart kid in class

YOU HAVE SELF ESTEEM/CONFIDENCE ISSUES

80s are not good enough for you or your parents

Overachiever for any reason

Sleep? What is sleep?

A dom or a brat

You have strict parents or you have had pretty loose rules growing up

You had a lot of friends in grade school and now you have like 4 friends

You are no longer human, you’re just a walking husk of stress

If your favourite is Krioff:

You want to fuck one of Krioff’s family members

You have siblings

A pyromaniac or deathly afraid of fire

Commitment issues

You watch or ur a sports fan

You own an iPhone 6

You’ve ate forbidden items or you’ve thought about it (the fish tank pebbles, erasers, glass, slime, etc)

Everyone thinks you’re the awkward kid but no you’re just shy

You actually like the ocean waves

Once people get to know you, they got a whole thing coming for them

You either suck at driving or can’t drive

A great listener but you don’t feel like you give good advice

Conflict is a no no for you

You definitely had a glow up

You’ve befriended the seniors growing up

You either don’t like kids or you love them

You have a sweet tooth and everyone questions how you are not diabetic with the amount of sweets you’ve consumed

If your favourite is Aigonorus:

You’re either an insomniac or a hypersomniac. Whichever one, you don’t know how much sleep is enough sleep

You’re probably a sub

Commitment or abandonment issues

Desperate for validation and appreciation

touch/love/attention starved

You have a stuffed animal collection or you still have those childhood stuffed animals

You love the idea of love but you are not ready to deal with breakups

You wish you didn’t care but you care too much

Your aesthetic is cutecore

Probably into maid cat boys

Studio Ghibli or Sanrio stan

Comfort > style anyday

You only own sneakers nothing else

If your favourite is Partheno:

You’re definitely not into just guys

You’re a drama kid and you are here for the tea whether it involves you or not

you have the receipts for everything

You were the one kid that played “family” or “house” every recess

no one knows where you get all your cute shit but it serves

have been suspected of witchcraft or considered the dark arts

Stole makeup from your fam as a kid and played with it

HIDE THE TRAUMA. HIDE THE PAST.

You already have a senior quote picked out

You’re either really horny or you just want to cry over how much you love so and so

“Why do men-”

You really want to own that Partheno doll in that one CG

Your most used social media app is Instagram or Snapchat

Your favourite demon brother from Obey Me is most likely Asmodeus

If your favourite is Tauxolouve:

Your favourite KBTBB guy is either Baba or Mamo

You’re into music or theatre

Your ideal date is to go to an opera or a museum

You say you like/dislike something but end up changing ur mind later or when you try it out

In your opinion, the music nowadays is just not it

You recently found a receipt from Walmart for something you bought 5 months ago

Anniversaries are important

When making decisions, you pick the worst possible one

Your most expensive clothing items are your shoes or jewelry

You wish you could attend a ball and marry into royalty, like Cinderella

You like the idea of soulmates or string of fate

Obviously or secretly insecure/self deprecating but you’ll raise all hell if your loved ones talk shit abt themselves

You want your partner to propose first

You like the underrated characters or your favourite characters are unappreciated

If your favourite is Karno you are:

You have childhood trauma, some of you are just not aware of it

You’re the parent of the group

You enjoy ships that have a mom/dad dynamic

Either you’re banned from the kitchen or you’re the one banning people from the kitchen

You were threated with the slipper or you threaten with the slipper

As a kid, you enjoyed Dora or Ni Hao Kai Lan

Your favourite trope is the found family trope

Either you’re an example to your family or you keep getting compared to other kids

An angel around the family but a chaotic bastard with others

You’re probably into some really kinky shit

You like Dangonronpa

Spiritual or religious

Probably had an imaginary friend

You decided you were gonna turn your life around after reading/watching something and went back to the hot mess you were in 3 days

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honeytea8 · 5 years ago

Text

✨✨La Squadra Boyfriend Headcanons✨✨

[Alexa, play Boyfriend by Big Time Rush]

Guys, I spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about La Squadra, so here are some bf headcanons for the sexiest group of assassins in Naples. No one asked but I am bringing it straight to your dash anyway! (under the cut for length lmao)

I’m going to start with Prosciutto, who has recently fallen on my radar pretty heavy!

He’s a good and decent boyfriend, if not a busy one. Not that he doesn’t care about the relationship, but most of his energy was going to Passione things before you waltzed in and so he’ll struggle a bit between his work responsibilities and maintaining his relationship with you, but only in the beginning.

If you are also a part of Passione, it’s a hell of a lot easier to manage.

I see Prosciutto as the gift-giving type: lingerie, sweets, perfume, designers, etc. His salary isn’t the best, but he manages it as well as he can just to accommodate you!

I just can’t get the idea out of my head that Pro was raised by a strict mama, that’s why he can be a bit of a stickler sometimes. He’ll catch you still lounging in bed at nine am, and be like “Why are you still in bed? Get dressed, we’re going out.” Dude!

I’m sorry to say, but Prosciutto is absolutely the ‘lecturing’ type. (He lectured someone in nearly every scene in the anime, Formaggio once and Pesci numerously and Bucci too)

He will lecture you when you make mistakes, especially because as his s/o, he has high expectations for you and believes you’re capable of so much more. It’s never, ever out of hate. He loves you, and that’s why he chides you a bit lol.

This does not negate the fact that he doesn't mind when you lean on him for support. He likes when you count on him, because he always comes through especially for you!

Depending on whether you’re in the mafia or not, I totally see him sparring with you, or working out with you in an effort to make you tough. Prosciutto wants you to be able to defend yourself, just in case. If you complain, he’ll tell you, “Better safe than sorry, tesoro”.

Prosciutto will respect you, period.

A good listener, goddamn! He’s up there with Risotto when it comes to who listens to their s/o more! If you have an issue, he’ll hear you out and offer advice if you want it. If you give him advice, he’ll take it into serious consideration. He’s honestly a good partner, can’t stress that enough.

Finally, sex with Pro is an entire event. Romantic dinner, candles lit, wine, the whole nine yards before he gives you nine inches of something else :) (I’m kidding!! Lmao, kinda).

But as I said, Prosciutto is quite deliberate, and a bit of a perfectionist. He knows what to do and how to do it, you can trust him.

Ghiaccio is next only because he’s my favorite.

The ice gremlin is probably the most interesting (and hilarious) boyfriend out of the bunch (I say this with only a tidbit of bias). He isn’t funny himself, but funny shit just happens to him.

Because of this, he will use you as a soundboard when everyone else refuses to listen to him. He’s got a lot to say, so be prepared for his TEDtalks. LMAO!

It will take some perception on your part to notice when he actually expects a response from you, and other times he’s just ranting to get his point out.

He will correct your grammar when you text, but barely notices when he makes a similar mistake (his brain moves in mph). Please use the proper names like Venezia, Italia, Roma and Napoli when talking to this man; save yourself from the headache.

When it comes to dates, please have mercy on him, he’s a textbook over-thinker! You’ll just have to plan something simple at home for you both to enjoy.

He isn’t incapable of planning dates, but he’ll want everything to be so absolutely perfect for his s/o and will throw a fit when it ultimately isn’t.

Contrary to popular belief, I think that Ghiaccio is a pretty attentive partner. He’s super intelligent and I think a part of it stems from his innate ability to read people (I’m referencing the part in the anime where he deduced what Giorno and Mista had come to look for, while going off very little information).

The more time he spends with you, the better he gets at it.

His form of affection will be shown through the amount of time you both spend together. When it comes to sex or anything related to that, be gentle and slow as Ghiaccio will likely be a flustered mess.

As he becomes more comfortable and confident, he will be bolder and just ask out right if you’ll suck him off tonight or not. The man appreciates directness, so don’t bother being coy. “You want me to give you head? Cool, lay down a towel or something.” is what he’ll probably say.

Very practical 👌🏾👌🏾

Melone, good lord, he’s kind of perfect.

A bit of a doting boyfriend here and there—very much concerned about your health. Expect him to ask if you’ve eaten, or taken your multivitamin. How are your bowel movements? LMAO

It can become a bit much, but he really genuinely cares. He’s not asking to be intrusive or nasty! If he was, you’d know. 🤣

But I seriously consider Melone to be the one (at least among La Squadra) who is way, way invested in his relationships. He will know every little detail about you; will ask you lots of questions and expects you to ask him just as many.

This may be annoying to some, but this dude will definitely bring up your horoscope in an argument. He’ll be like “I honestly can’t fathom why you’re being this way, though it’s to be expected from a libra.”

Peg this bitch so he can shut up.

Melone is also touchy as hell, but not in a clingy way. He loves touching, and just to tag onto the headcanon about his partial blindness, I want to say that he’s so touchy because that’s how he ‘sees’ you best.

Just know that half the time, he isn’t touching you to be lecherous, even if he genuinely does like the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Melone will even encourage you to touch him back.

Rub his thigh or back and he’ll be simping.

He is obsessed with your legs, and will paint your toes if you let him.

LOVES PDA! Melone will also tongue-kiss you in public if you let him!

Notice how I keep saying ‘if you let him’. Give him an inch and he’ll press you for a mile, so if there are boundaries you would like to establish, please do, cuz he sure as hell won’t, just saying!

When it comes to sex, Melone is a dick and coochie sensei. Oral is his favorite thing to do, probably enjoys giving more than receiving to be honest. I’d say he’s pretty much mastered sex for what it is.

That being said, if he’s ever talking out of his neck, just invite him to put his mouth to better use. He’ll even thank you for your gracious request.

Formaggio is next 💀

According to my JoJo compatriots from discord, he’s like the Optimus Prime of fuckboi’s so let’s ride that wave for a bit! LMAO

I hope it doesn’t come as a surprise that Formaggio is pretty shameless. He will send you a dick pic on Sunday morning before church and have the audacity to say “Just wanted to bless you real quick”.

@autumn-kouhai mentioned him giving his s/o sickly sweet pet names and I just have to agree.

Expect to be hit upside the head with: baby-boo, sugar plum, honey bunches, sweetums. I can imagine them becoming really ridiculous too like “the last piece of red velvet cake” or “cheddar bae biscuits from Red Lobster”

His catch phrase is “Got nudes?”

Send them, and he won’t be afraid to reply with something equally sexy.

Be warned though, he will stockpile whatever you send him and then be careless with his phone. If you don’t mind Illuso’s snoopy ass seeing your nudes then by all means, have at it. Otherwise, send them through snapchat, so they disappear later.

As far as La Squadra boyfriends go, he’s the most fun! Y’all don’t even go anywhere because man’s is broke. BUT, Formaggio knows how to have a good time without any need to spend money (my kind of dude tbh) you guys just crank up the tunes, dance, and get lit until the neighbors complain.

Formi is also the CEO of jokes/memes, and will have you in absolute tears almost always! I literally tell my friends that funny guys are so dangerous, don’t sleep on them! They will make you laugh until your panties drop, it’s magic, I swear. Formaggio has that same energy.

No matter how bad of a day his s/o is having, rest assured, he will draw the biggest laugh out of you.

Besides his fuckboi tendencies, his most redeeming quality is the fact that he’s super cool and fun to hang with. You’ll literally have a good time, always, because his energy is right! Very good vibes around this man, I swear! It’ll be exactly like dating your best friend, because essentially, he will be your bestie.

Formi has many moments of tenderness that aren’t sexually charged too—moments where the jokes stop and he’ll just rub your back or feet, this is usually when you aren’t feeling well and need some quiet.

However, Formaggio won’t let you mope all day, he’ll pull out the big guns and call you his “sweetie baby” and when you try to resist he’ll say “What, I’m just tryna show you some love.”

He’s a good dude lmao I’d date a guy like him irl 😭

Pesci stans wya??! Let’s get into this baby boy.

Pesci is boyfriend material, idgaf what anyone says.

He is pretty much the least problematic to be with among all of La Squadra, even more so than Risotto (don’t argue with me).

Pesci is hyper aware of your likes and dislikes and will literally go out of his way to make sure that you’re well and okay.

Arguments are basically nonexistent and if they occur it ain’t coming from his side.

I also think that Pesci has a lot of empathy, so when you’re going through something, he’s right there in the thick of it with you. If you’ve seen that meme that goes ‘when my gf is on her period it’s UterUS’ lmao that’s Pesci’s energy 100%.

Sometimes, he’s more of a lover and not a fight, that is perfectly okay!

However, if someone tries up his s/o, say farewell to Mr. Niceguy. He will defend your honor to his dying breath. And with you in his corner, trust me, he’s not going down.

A romantic at heart, Pesci will plan little date trips like picnics in the park or boat trips to Capri, actually, I’d like to point out that he excels in the art of date planning. If you’re the adventurous type, he’ll plan outings where you both will be more active, like biking through the city or renting a mop-ed and going sight-seeing.

Because Pesci has a sensitive stomach, he’s very much considerate of what you both put in your bodies. If you have dietary restrictions or allergies, this guy knows all about it and will cater to you perfectly.

A true gentleman through and through, he will never force himself on you, ever. In fact, he really doesn’t like engaging in anything sexual when you’re drunk or high, sorry if you’re into that!

Pesci is the kind of guy who keeps up with your favorite shows.

If ya’ll have similar taste in media or literature, he will immerse himself in it so that he can relate to you all the more.

If there’s anyone who will entertain anime-related discourse, no matter how nonsensical, it’s Pesci. And he isn’t just putting up with it, he’s actively engaging in the conversation so you are always heard and validated.

He’s an A+ boyfriend, that’s all I gotta say! Haters can stay mad :)

Goddamn Illuso... idk man.

I really feel like you have to have thick/tough skin to handle this guy, for various reasons.

The first being that Illuso can be a bit mean at first. He’ll push your buttons on purpose just to see what’ll make you tick. Will tease the living heck out of you, always, kind of a bully lmao but not to the extreme, it’s just his brand of humor—and the thing is, he won’t be mad when you dish it right back, so it’s cool.

Secondly, Illuso has big dick energy!!

I mean rightfully so, because he is indeed packing! But my word, he ain’t humble about it at all!

He is not above making jokes about ‘splitting you in half’. In fact all of his jokes have hidden, dirty undertones!

His affection is shown through speech mostly. Illuso will drop subtle innuendos and provocations, half to see you flustered and half because he wants you to know how much he wants you.

Illuso isn’t incredibly vocal about his feelings outside of ‘I’m tryna hit that thang’ but you won’t doubt that he loves you because Illuso doesn’t waste his own time.

If he’s spending his time with you, you can rest assured that it’s because he wants to.

Illuso is a voyeur and you’ll just have to understand/accept that and move on.

He loves watching you and will even creep over to your place through the mirror world just to hang or watch you do chores. Loves to surprise you and give you jump scares lmao it’ll make you a tad paranoid but it’s also fun.

Illuso is prone to random bouts of sweetness; it’s very sporadic, very touch-and-go.

One day, you’ll wake up to chocolates on your dresser or new shoes, lingerie, or makeup if you wear it. I imagine that if you’re low on funds, he will even help you buy your groceries that week.

It’ll surprise the hell out of you, but that’s just how Illuso is. He enjoys keeping you on your toes!

He’s prideful and smug as hell, so he will definitely expect a thank you, because even if he does it out of the kindness in his heart, he also wants to hear that you appreciate him

Same goes for the bedroom scene. Illuso loves making you vocal, it’s his favorite thing in the world, so he’ll make a game out of doing the things that get the biggest reaction out of you. Like I said, it's that big dick energy at work here, smh.

Sorbet and Gelato in a polyamorous relationship with you? Let’s get it!

We don’t get anything substantial about these two except that Sorbet follows the money, so these are all personal headcanons for how I see and write them.

Here’s the juice: when it comes to you as their s/o, these two are possessive as hell. You are theirs and that’s that on that! 😭 Don’t ask questions, just go with it.

Sorbet is the chill one of the duo. He can be a bit smug at times, but he’s mostly a laid back dude who doesn’t get bothered by much.

When it comes to you, Sorbet likes to spend quality time with you more than anything, and will ask you to cook for him at your place so he ain’t gotta spend money. Oh? Did I not mention that I kinda think of him as a cheapskate? Lmao cuz I do.

Sorbet will come by your place just to steal your coupons from the mail then head out; you’re not using ‘em so why should he let them go to waste?

Gelato is the complete opposite; personality wise, I headcanon him as a mix between Melone and Formaggio lmao

But it’s not as crazy as it sounds, he’s cute and outspoken like Melone, while maintaining a free-spirit like Formaggio. One quality that I like is that he’s quite devoted to you and Sorbet. If anyone crosses either of you, goodluck to them!

I like to think Gelato’s also just really boujee and high maintenance. He loves to pamper and be pampered. You and him tag-team Sorbet’s wallet and go on spa dates together at his expense (not that he ever really stood a chance)

While Sorbet is cool with just being in the same room as you, Gelato loves hugging/cuddling with you and Sorbet—will definitely fight for the middle spot between the two of you on the couch during movie nights.

He baby, so let him have it lol

In the bedroom, I would salute anyone with the guts to take the two of them on. They both lay down that work, period.

Sorbet gets his kicks from teasing and edging you (his sadistic side comes out a bit), while Gelato loves when you give him extra TLC. To put it short, they know how to take care of you, so there are no issues there.

Last but not least, Mr. Risotto Nero himself.

Man, idc on the lowest of keys, he seems a little bit like a grandpa to me

The type to sit at home and do crosswords, has a bird feeder in his yard and plays old Italian hits while washing the dishes. It’s very domestic 💀 (I find it cute, whatever!)

As a boyfriend, I can’t imagine him suddenly being spontaneous or outgoing unless you drag him out of his home/comfort zone.

Be patient with Mr. Nero, and he can come to surprise you

After a while, it won’t be just you dragging him out and about; one day he’ll ask you to come over and you’ll be greeted with a nice, traditional, homemade meal

Pay attention and you will notice him watching your face to see if you like his cooking 🥺

After seeing his fight with Doppio, I must admit that Risotto is very, very observant, almost scarily so.

I can totally picture him pointing out random things about his s/o that even they don’t know

One night, Risotto may come up to you and say “I talked to your neighbor about the dog, they’ll keep it inside now.” And you’re just staring like 😳 how did he know the barking was keeping you up at night????

He’s sweet, and will take good care of you as a boyfriend should.

Very good listener, won’t talk as much but will hang on to your every word, I promise. He could even recite it to you verbatim.

He’s a big dude, that ain’t news, so expect to be swallowed up in hugs and sometimes even picked up (as a tall girl myself, I simp!!!)

Gives A1 piggyback rides, lol

ALSO RISOTTO IS HUMBLE ASF!

Big dick energy, but on low volume 👏🏾 after all, he doesn’t need to do much talking, because a night with him is more than enough!

Listen babe, you better stretch, do some squats, and prep in whatever way you can before Mr. Nero gives you that work. 🤐

Lowkey a freak, but it’s well hidden behind his ‘quiet giant’ exterior

So, who are y'all dating? Personally, I’m going for Formaggio and Pesci hehe

#jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #vento aureo #la squadra #prosciutto #illuso #formaggio #melone #risotto nero #pesci #ghiaccio #gelato and sorbet #la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra di esecuzione #jojo headcanons #la squadra x reader #jojo part 5

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necromanticfemme · 3 years ago

Note

💞 stay strong ❣️ in my experience venting helps you resists the urge to go back to those who hurt you so if you feel comfortable here is a safe space for you to do that

cheers anon :))

(tw for vague venting abt grooming and emotional abuse ig? no obligation to read lol)

i tried drafting up a message to reply to the friend and try to vaguely explain that i definitely do not want to unblock him and this is a boundary i am going to be very firm on for the sake of my own mental health but like,,, it's so hard since she (and everyone else from that friend group) still actively keep in touch with him a lot more than i keep in touch with them so i KNOW anything i say will get sent on to him and he'll definitely have his own version of events to give them and probably make me out as irrational and crazy. he has a pattern of doing that to girls.

it's just so. messy and horrible and on one hand I'm so proud of myself for even getting to this point where i'm brave enough to cut contact for good, but also i feel really guilty and still get so paranoid that maybe he's right and i'm not at all justified in feeling the way that i do. even calling him my abuser makes me feel afraid of what he'd say to that term being applied to him, even though conversations with other friends since have really made it clear to me that what it was was emotional abuse.

i feel so stupid for letting it get to that point in the first place - i was sort of the instigator of things, since it was lockdown in 2020 and i was incredibly lonely and he was my cool older online acquaintance that i wanted to talk to more. he was about 20 and i was 16, to be precise. even that age gap throws up SUCH a fucking red flag to me now, and my irl friends raised their eyebrows at it at the time but i always insisted that it wasn't like that, it wasn't like he was a groomer or anything.

any time i would mention something about our age gap or the way the power balance felt weird sometimes and i wanted him to be more aware of the fact that i was younger and hadn't had the same experiences he had, he'd kind of blow up at me for accusing him of grooming, and that voice that sounds like him still shows up in my mind sometimes when i try to describe the dynamic. and like news flash my guy! i was literally the second underage girl you had a codependent/romantic friendship with over a period of years who then finally got fed up and cut contact after starting uni.

anyways, that's all to say that it's still really hard for me to believe myself when i say that he was bad for me. it's taking me some time to rebuild that sense of trust in my experience of reality but since stopping talking to him my mental health has gotten a lot better and I've gained so much more clarity on how he harmed me. doubly so in the weeks since i blocked him. shoutout to drunk me for finally cowgirling up and pressing the goddamn button. here's to never talking to that fucker again!

#i never told him my tumblr but he cyberstalked his other ex a lot so like its not implausible that he could find this blog lol #so if ur reading this: hi and please never contact me again. rage all you please.#that's probably just paranoia but like. i blocked him on spotify too just in case #i am intimately familiar with his techniques #vent #like i dont know why anyone would but just in case #tw grooming

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 5 years ago

Text

i.changkyun / reader

genre: yandere!changkyun, librarian!reader (sex worker!changkyun)

warning(s)!!!: clubbing, mentions of sex/sex work, obsessive behavior, stalking, ‘love at first sight’ but messed up, masturbation (male), implied violence/murder, manipulation, changkyun plays the nice guy role but isn’t, changkyun is also pretty messed up (oops), y/n is oblivious to an astounding degree, implied drugging, chains/collars, confinement, kidnapping

w.count: 12.3k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble [Rated: M]

synopsis: im changkyun is a prime sex worker at a local club. nothing gets his pride swelling more than any poser off the street willing to come into his club and pin bills between the elastic of his fishnets and skin. what he finds more exhilarating than any show, pole climb or heated one-night stand, however; is the one sober woman sitting among her group of wasted friends in a velvet, vip booth. he’ll do anything to know everything about her; putting on a friendly smile was only the first step.

a/n: you can blame DAZED for this mess (hi, just in case you need a reminder, this is purely fiction and not at all who changkyun rly is as a person. nothing about this is okay in irl)

This was nothing new. This was just the way his life always played out. An exhilarating erotic number on a stage with a pole, fishnets and teasing personality followed by the highest bidder to continue his line of work in a more secluded section of the club.

Fantasia Dyed may have been a newer club against its competitors that have been around for years, but the workers and staff inside raised the bar previously set. While clubs can be shady to begin with, what with the use of alcohol at every turn, murmurs of drugs, and agreements to met up for a quick money job- Fantasia Dyed had a reputation of the best line of sex workers you could get your dirty hands on. If you had the money, that was.

Im Changkyun was the front man of that line up. Wanted by men, women and anyone in between- if you had the cash he demanded for his services, he was yours for the night. He had no qualm so long as you paid and used the protection he required to keep your own STIs to your damn self. He really wasn’t picky, and he never stopped to ask himself as to why.

So, this- crawling out of some random woman’s creaky, box spring bed and pulling on the clothes he had lost earlier- was nothing new. He looked over his shoulder as he ran his black painted fingers through his blond hair.

The woman was passed out, a fuzzy, brown blanket covering her body as Changkyun turned away from her. Throwing his shirt back on, flinging his jacket over his shoulders and thrusting his arms through the sleeves, he shimmied on his black skinnies and boots. Grabbing his abandoned black, clutch bag from the stranger's couch he unclasped it to look at the envelope of bills he had received just hours earlier from his ‘client’.

Throwing himself on the couch, he crossed his legs and counted the bills, smirking when he was adamant he was paid in full- with even a small service tip he assumed- to cover over his asking price for the night. Satisfied, he got up and left that small apartment he had stumbled into.

It was only when he entered his own home- the top floor penthouse of some wealthy building- did he wonder just for the briefest of moments if he was truly satisfied.

-x-x-x-

“Y/n, if you don't come with me to Fantasia like you promised you would 2 years ago when it opened now that I finally have the money and the chance for my birthday, you’re being grounded.”

You, who was busy replacing books that you had been wheeling around on your return cart back on the shelf, had the lovely company of your best friend sitting behind you at a library table as you worked. She’d been going on and on about her birthday plans and while you were happy she was excited about them, she was adamant on adding you to the attendee list.

Maybe it was cliche, but the oh-so-thrilling life you lived as a librarian of your local public library painted a rather ‘stay at home’ picture of you; and that is exactly how you wanted it. The whole reason you took this job opportunity was because the head librarian noticed you come in every other Wednesday for a new list of to-reads to rent and offered a position after she got to know you a bit better.

Had you had the choice, you’d stay cooped up in your house with a good book, a nice warm drink, a rainy day and peace and quiet for the rest of your life. But, of course, that was a fantasy. Your social life was barely breathing, with Halie-the insistent best friend behind you- being the center of your social solar system.

You were a prime recluse, you didn’t even keep in touch with your parents as often as you should since they were so utterly upset you were throwing so much ‘potential’ away when you decided to be a librarian instead of going into some out of this world career field.

You had Halie and Halie had connections with just about everyone ever. She was easy to adapt to personalities and was generally kind to anyone she meets unless they’re rude first. She was a prime example of a modern ‘dream girl’ that people had. Though, she was still your friend no matter who she is with anyone else.

Was that naive of you?

“Y/n, I’m telling you, you’ve gotta cooooome,” she whined. Sitting backward in her chair, leaning back and pulling on the back of the chair. You sighed, pushing a spine of a book into its rightful you had just mapped out. “Please,” she begged in a pathetically, high pitched voice.

“If I go, will you stop whining?” You asked with your back still towards her, but you could practically see the smile on her face with the small, over-dramatic gasp she let out. You almost immediately regretted your choice, and wished you could take it back. You knew Halie wouldn’t let it happen though. You’ve spoken and now her selective hearing will kick on and she wouldn’t hear you even if you changed your mind.

“So, you’re going?!” She screeched as you turned around and shushed her. She was in a library. With a few more accepting statements from you solidifying your attendance to her birthday, she left happily as you finished stocking your shelves in dread before sitting behind your check-out counter with the same dread- only 10x stronger.

You watched the time tick by on the computer screen at work, the watch around your wrist on the way home, the hanging clock on your living room wall and the alarm you set on your phone for 9 pm when you were set to get ready. Time passed far too fast for your liking- you couldn’t even squeeze in a nap to help the nerves.

Before you knew it, you were walking out of your home, locking the door behind you with the only acceptable club outfit you could think of as you made your way to Fantasia Dyed, texting Halie that you were dreadfully on the way.

-x-x-x-

“Hey, Kyun! Take ten, dude!” Changkyun, who had just stepped down off of the high perched stage covered in sweat ruffled his blond hair that clung to his forehead in strands. He nodded as he grabbed his bottle of water, slouching in a nearby domed-stool.

One of his ankle high, black platform boots propped up on the stool’s ring with the other on the ground. The white tank top he had personally cut off to end at his rib cage and expose his stomach drenched in spots of sweat. Black skinnies clinging to his toned legs and his fishnets showing loud and proud through the open knees of his jeans and wrapping around the perfection of his waist. Having left his faux fur coat in the employee lounge for the night.

His dark eyes scanned the floor level he was currently occupying the best he could from his seat at the juice bar- for the lameizoids who wanted something non-alcoholic at his club. He glanced at the wristwatch strapped onto the inside of his wrist and checked the time. It was only just past 10 as he smirked.

The night was still young.

From not too far off in a different area than he was, he heard a small commotion starting to murmur. From the looks of what he could see over his sips of water and his bangs hanging in his eyes as he flipped them annoyingly out of his way over and over, it may have been someone’s birthday. Guest after guest going into the same area with the same woman in stockings and a cocktail dress hugging and greeting them.

A VIP birthday reservation; that did ring a small bell somewhere in the overbooked mind of the club worker. Perhaps it would pay off if he did some of his work within their sights. Birthday crowds almost always paid off in terms of after work lip service and bonus pay.

Stepping his foot off the lower ring of the stool he had been comfortably sitting on, he stood as he set his bottle on the juice bar. The tender at the particular unpopular drink selection area took it and tucked it away under the bar where Changkyun always asked him to put it so no one tried to get creative with it.

Walking around the venue area, he strutted by the lower ground VIP booth surrounded by thick, velvet ropes. Whoever this birthday diva was, she sure went all out to keep her and her group uninterrupted. A lower level 10 person booth, a table full of booze and a secure perimeter to keep outsiders rightfully out of her hair. Just from the set up, she must’ve been some spoiled princess.

However, what really caught his gaze was one particular woman. A woman dressed in a tank top, a cheap looking fake leather jacket and dark jeans. Perhaps not ideal for Fantasia’s club etiquette and whatever she was sipping on in her clear glass certainly didn’t seem like any alcoholic beverage to his trained eye. His pierced brow ticked up as he walked fully by and the table of rambunctious party-goers left his sight around the wall.

“Must be a prude,” he murmured but somehow, he almost felt guilty when the words left his mouth. He couldn’t fathom at all why. It stalled him physically as he stopped in his tracks for just a moment before strutting further away from the booth to scope out a good area to work his magic.

The moment midnight hit Changkyun was being flagged over by the absolutely smashed table he had passed earlier that night. The VIP birthday booth had confidently called him over. As he moseyed his way over, with a few of his coworkers already there to entertain the group, he was greeted by some drunken man hanging off his shoulder.

Among the group of drunk or passed out party goers, there was the same woman from earlier who still seemed completely sober. Changkyun raised his eyebrow as he shook the man on his shoulder off as he stumbled around and clung to the next nearest bod. He walked over to your side and sat himself down beside you on the velvet booth.

Crossing his legs, he watched you flinch when he plopped himself down, his elbows rising to rest on the back of the booth, his hand hovering close to your face. He sure made himself comfortable. He had to admit though, as you sipped on yet another refill of something nonalcoholic, you were pretty easy going on the eyes.

“You sure don’t seem like you’re having any fun, lady,” he chided as he lifted one arm off the back of the booth to push his hair back out of his eyes for only the millionth time that evening. He heard you nervously chuckle beside him and something about the sound of it stirred pleasantly in his chest.

“Well, this isn’t exactly my scene,” you told him. Your voice was soft like Christmas bells, but it erupted in his ears, making the background of sounds and voices and bass all drown out. He was solely focused on your lips and the sound they produced when you spoke he couldn’t hear anything else.

“Not your scene, but here you sit in mine,” he teased as he smirked at you. You tapped the side of your glass that had become a slipping hazard from it’s condensation. Changkyun looked at the friends around you who seemed to be having the time of their young lives. “You’re friends seem to be enjoying themselves.”

“Well, they go out a lot. I really don’t like these kinds of places,” you told him before you looked at him with a slightly apologetic smile. “No offense.”

“Club scenes aren’t for everyone, I understand that. If you hate it so much, why did you come here?” He asked as you sighed, dipping your chin. He felt a small spark of panic rise in his throat as he saw you suddenly even more forlorn than you have been. Did he put that look on your face by asking your dumb questions?

He mentally halted himself, once again wondering why it affected him so much what you did and did not like or how you acted.

“It’s my best friend’s birthday so she pretty much begged me to come with her tonight,” you lifted your head and looked over to where she was, downing yet another shot. You’d have to remember to book a cab for her to go home- if she doesn’t go home with the staff member she keeps clinging to. “I probably won’t stay much longer since she pretty much forgot I’m even here,” you pouted.

Changkyun’s eyes swelled at the precious pout to your lips as you whined about being forgotten because you were sober and weren’t partying like an animal. What was wrong with him?

“Do you like coffee?” He suddenly blurted out. He couldn’t stop the words from forcing their way out of his mouth before his brain could functionally filter them or even stop them. He gulped when you turned to look at him in the eyes for the first time that night. Maybe it was the neon lights in the club or maybe it was the dim atmosphere that made them so enticing to gaze into, but he was locked in your gaze- unable to break away from you. His jaw nearly dropped open as he explored the color of them surrounded by the club's aura.

“Coffee?” You asked in clarification. He just clamped his teeth together before nodding once. “Well, I’m not the biggest coffee fan in the world, but I like teas’ and I can handle a frappe if I’m in the mood for it.”

“I get off at three,” he told you as he desperately tried to keep eye contact. “If you find the stomach to hang around another three hours, we can get some?” He pitched as his voice that was normally always confident- as it should be for his line of grade-a work- shook just slightly with the booming club bass.

Your eyes shifted when he put the offer out there, and he started to internally panic. Would you say no? Would you politely decline him and try and carry on like he never said a word? Or would you turn him down and leave? Then, it hit him. You were in a club; a club popular for sex work and Changkyun happened to lead that gaggle of workers. It’s pretty damn obvious you were assuming he had some ulterior motive. For once, he didn’t.

He dropped his elbow from the back of the booth as he turned towards you slightly, scooting forward to the edge of the booth seat.

“I don’t mean to hook up or anything,” he clarified, “I just want to get to you know, so I wanted to get coffee at an ungodly hour.” The hands he waved around to try and help convince you quickly settled onto his jean torn, and fishnet covered lap. “If you want to.”

You sat and considered his offer. It was Saturday, and the library was closed on Sundays so you could technically afford to be out later than you typically would. And a late night chat with someone other than your wasted party of friends did sound tempting. He seemed kind enough, even with his get up and the flashes of a performance you had glimpsed earlier with him on the lifted stage and poles. You should never judge a book by it’s cover, just because he seemed like someone who slept around all the time, didn’t mean he was a bad guy, right?

You smiled at him and his breath left him in one fell swoop. It was like your smile materialized into a pro-boxer and just gut punched him. And he loved it.

“A three am frappe sounds great,” you told him. He smiled back wider than he knew he could. He thanked you before he excused himself to go back to work. However, before he went back to the floor, he practically sprinted into the single employee bathroom and locked himself inside.

He slammed his back against the door as his knees wobbled and he grew weaker. His breath was staggered as his chest heaved in unsteady shudders. His fingertips shook and he had shivers running up his back from the memory of your eyes and that smile. He started chuckling to himself in the empty bathroom as he felt his cheeks flush.

God he felt so euphoric in the moment, it was practically erotic. Whatever was wrong with him, he started questioning if it was really wrong if it made him feel so good.

-x-x-x-

It was ten till three in the morning when Changkyun did one last check to make sure you hadn’t left yet. Almost your whole party was passed out, had gone home by cab or with someone else at this point. The club was nearly ready to shut down for the night as they started to chase people out. You saw him peek around into the VIP booth area as you smiled and waved to him reassuringly. That same tightness coiled in his chest as he rushed to the employee locker room.

A fellow pole dancer who was peeling off his skintight, laced finger-less gloves perked an eyebrow up at the rushing blond. He hadn’t seen the worker so eager to get out of there before.

“Some kind of big surprise waiting for you outside those doors or something, hot stuff?” He asked. Changkyun shook his head, too busy searching for his clutch behind his fur coat so he could meet up with you. Yanking on the furry sleeves that felt almost too warm all of a sudden, he snatched the no longer hidden clutch from his locker shelf and slammed it shut.

“Something better,” he breathed in promise to himself more than his coworker as he jogged out, his long coat bouncing off the back of his knees. He came out of the room, seeing you standing and in the company of a different worker who was still relatively new to Fantasia Dyed. A rookie at best and his eyes hardened as the man spoke to you.

Leaning far too close to you, breathing too close to you and smiling far too seductively at you. He was clearly looking for a bed to crash in, but Changkyun hated it. Loathed it even as he felt his lips pull back in a grimace mimicking a defensive mutt. He stomped towards you and inserted himself between the nuisance and yourself.

Pushing his palms against the worker’s chest, he harshly shoved him backwards and took a few steps back himself towards you. He felt like he was on fire, feeling you standing directly behind him. He thought he could feel your warmth radiating onto his back like sun rays and it almost made him sweat. He felt torn between feeling ecstatic that you were so close to him or completely pissed off at the man who stood shell shocked after being pushed away.

“She’s taken already,” Changkyun growled. He shocked even himself with his tone, something coiling further and beating in his chest so violently he swore he felt his chest jerk forward with each beat of his heart.

The coworker raised his hands. “Chill out, man. ‘Didn’t know she was yours.” Something ignited the coil in Changkyun’s chest and sent sparks in his mind at the man's words. His? Yes… that sounds exactly right.

It sounded blissfully perfect as the man walked off and the blond turned around to see you and properly escort you out of Fantasia Dyed. He watched your back as you left in front of him- ladies first- and he let a grin crawl across his face. Unaware of how his eyes looked as they burned into the silhouette of your body.

His.

Changkyun led you out of the club, but neither of you expected it to be raining at three o’clock in the morning. You gasped as you instinctively brought your hands up above your head. You were wearing makeup and if it got wet, it was all over. Changkyun was quick to rip the coat from his shoulders and sling it around you. It had no hood, but he placed the collar of it above your head as you grabbed the edges of it to pull it around your body.

He nearly gasped when his finger brushed your hand, handing off his coat before he was pulling his keys from his clutch and pushing buttons to unlock his car that was parked just around the corner on the side of the building. He reached around your shoulder and started directing you in the rain.

It was only when he sat you in his car, nice and dry, when he ran to get into the drivers sid, slam the door shut, start the car and crank the heat to get rid of the wet shivers you had due to the rain, did he realize he had just touched you again. Although his coat was under his arm, so were you as you ran through the rain. He had to contain yet another delightful shiver.

You shimmied the coat off your head to around your shoulders before you pulled it out from behind you and placed it on your lap as you pulled the seatbelt across your chest. You looked at Changkyun who was already looking at you, but flinched and started fidgeting with his wheel and knobs for the radio in his car to distract himself.

“I didn’t realize there was rain in the forecast this morning. I wouldn’ve have brought an umbrella.” You briefly blessed the idea that Changkyun asked you out because you had taken the bus and walked the rest of the trip to Fantasia, so getting home would have been a long walk considering the buses don’t run at three freakin’ am.

Changkyun cleared his throat, whipping his blond, wet bangs out of his face and onto the top of his head, clearing his forehead as he shifted out of park.

“So,” he started, “where do you want to go?” You tossed ideas around in your head and it was so early, hardly any place would be open except the occasional fast food place or gas station. Offering him the choice between an open, probably dead lobby for some fast food or grabbing a drink and hanging in the car in the rain, he was driving off to the closest food location.

As nice as it sounded being secluded in a car with coffee and the sound of rain, he wouldn't be able to look you in the eyes as you spoke as well.

Changkyun took you to the place he would often stop for some after work food before going home or meeting up with someone. Because he knew the manager so well (and because the manager was always in store by three to start preparing for the staff to come in at six) Changkyun was allowed an early entrance.

Even though you offered to get your own drink, Changkyun wasn’t allowing you to pay for anything since it was him who asked you out. Besides, it wasn’t exactly expensive to buy some caffeinated drinks- especially since he got a special discount too. The manager who always got him his food or drinks ready at this hour was shocked to see him with company this time around.

Time seemed to become truly nonexistent to Changkyun as soon as the both of you sat down at a back corner table- away from anyone's eyes from outside as to not cause the manager grief if someone should come demanding entrance because Changkyun was inside. You both talked about anything and everything he could think to ask you to get to know you better.

He learned that you were a librarian and that you didn’t go to school- forgetting about any further education after high school because you weren’t sure what you really wanted to do with your life. He found out bits and pieces about your family situations- gathering that you weren’t close and that you had no siblings to speak of. Your friends were small in number and that you weren’t really close to anyone aside from Halie- the proffered birthday girl at the club.

He mentally thanked Halie for begging you to come to the club, considering if you hadn’t Changkyun would have never laid eyes on you.

In turn, he shared what he could in return for your stories. He had been working in the sex world for a few years now, quickly and unfortunately getting roped into it after a nasty breakup when he had just turned 21. When he realized just how desirable he could be, he started working out and eating better to keep his physique so business kept rolling in for him. He was actually scouted by the assistant manager of Fantasia Dyed to work there- but it was the pay and benefits that really dragged him in. He didn’t dislike his career, so he had no reason to say no anyways.

At least with Fantasia Dyed, he had benefits to get himself into the doctor if one of his clients ever lied and gave him some gross sex disease- then of course he’d sue them into the ground for not following his work guidelines. He told you about why he pierced his eyebrow and even the stories behind the tattoos on his back.

Oddly enough, despite your absolute opposite backgrounds, you both spoke and got alone brilliantly. It was a balance of lifestyles and Changkyun basked in everything you had to say. You didn’t shun him or sneer at his life as a sex worker and maybe it was the lack of disgust and prejudiced that really flipped something in his head.

You did not judge him. You did not hate him. You laughed at whatever joke he pitched. You blushed at whatever lame pick up line he slid into conversation. You groaned playfully at his equally playful flirting. You were making him fall and he did- hook, line and heavy sinker.

He was absolutely, unbelievably head over heels for you and he felt like he was on fire.

You both talked and talked until you had noticed that the sky started to change color and the rain had stopped. The sun was rising and you were suddenly overly aware of how exhausted you really were. Changkyun saw you stifle a yawn and although it felt like his heartstrings were going to tear in his chest, he was quick to get up and offer you a ride home as the manager started to truly open the lobby for business as nearly all morning staff were present.

As you sat in the car with him, directing him on what roads to take to get to your home, he found himself memorizing every turn. When you told him to keep it slow and then pointed out your small little apartment duplex, he looked at every crevice his eyes could see from the car window. The neighborhood was somewhere small, but there was a small park just across the block so he expected it to be fairly busy during the day.

As he bid you farewell, and watched you get safely inside before driving away, he struggled to contain his breath. When he rolled into the apartment parking lot and up to his penthouse, he was quick to lock his door and lift his coat to his face.

It smelt different than usual. It had your shampoo’s scent embedded into its fake fur. It had the smell of your perfume and the smell of you inside of it. He fell asleep that morning until afternoon with his coat curled around him instead of a blanket. That feeling of euphoria chasing him until he finally fell asleep- only to have a set of specific dreams involving you in one of his reserved back rooms at Fantasia Dyed.

-x-x-x-

Over the course of the next week, Changkyun did his damnedest to keep his eyes on you at all times he possibly could. He’d wake up in the afternoon and find a way to enter the library you worked at and slip into a corner behind a bookshelf with a book to disguise his obvious staring of you. When you’d leave the desk to replace books, he’d move to avoid your eyes, when you’d help a guest with their books to check out, he’d growl when it was a man that you smiled at. When you got off work, he’d trial behind you just enough to stay unnoticed. He’d watch you get home every afternoon and one night he even put a small camera on one of the fake branches of your fake bush you hand sitting in a pot on your porch.

He’d sit in his car or in his penthouse and watch the feed on his phone if it buzzed with a notification of movement. If you were leaving, he’d jump into action to try and find out where you were going if it was an unusual time. He’d watch you go to the store to shop or into some food place for something to eat.

He’s even seen you meet up with Halie a few times and each time he did, he hated that wench more and more. That obviously spoiled princess wasn’t good enough to be around you, acting like a typical romance villain and obvious snake. You were smart, so he was curious as to why you trusted her so much. She was clearly brainwashing you and keeping you around as a tool.

Changkyun had a mental list of enemies and people he hated, and she was ranked number one among that list- along with all the men he saw speak or flirt with you. He wanted to get them away from you, throw them out of the picture and clean your mind of their filth.

During his work hours, and after even, he’d still get randoms to get into bed with him- but his mind would be filled with everything about you. The person underneath him would disappear and your face and body and voice would take hold in his brain like some sort of spell. He’d fuck into man or woman with such fervor he’d be getting calls from his manager that he was requested for service back to back.

He hit euphoria and erotic highs with you just in his mind, he nearly came undone when he thought how it would feel actually fucking you. He’d go home from work, from another sex session and he’d lay on his bed, on his couch, sit at his table or collapse in his doorway and wear himself thin with his hand at the thought of your touch instead of his or someone else.

He sat on the cold floor of his front door entrance, his leather, skintight pants unzipped and cock slipped through the hole in his boxers. His hand squeezed his length as his fingers rubbed and pinched and squeezed around the head and slit. It was so dry as his hand slid up and down painfully on his shaft. His hips bucked to meet his hands motions and his legs twitched in their perched, spread position. His stomach was tight as his opposite hand came to pinch and twist his nipples- his shirt discarded as he slid down the door upon his entry earlier.

It was so dry- it was hardly enjoyable- but it was painfully erotic. He couldn’t stop and the precum leaking from his cockhead wasn’t nearly enough for his hand to not pull on the delicate skin making him hiss. Taking his lip between his teeth and breathing so heavily he stuttered, he watched his hand abuse his cock.

The hand that played with his nipples shot down to hold his wrist as he finished himself off, cumming with the sound of your name spilling from his lips in lewd, breathless moans. He lay on the floor, slouched and exhausted as cum stuck, drying to his chest and pants.

He was so utterly, disgustingly, blissfully obsessed with you and he felt like he was losing his mind. His mind was filled to the brim with you, you, you. He spent every waking hour he could preparing. Yes, he had to make sure that everything would be perfect for when you’d finally come to him.

You deserved nothing short of perfection- and Changkyun would fuck anyone, get paid anything and obtain whatever it was you desired to make sure you got exactly that. However, it would take time- much to his dismay.

He knew he had to get ready before he could possibly have you. He started cleaning out a room he used as storage in his penthouse and got to work.

It was ten days after your three am date that Changkyun decided to play innocent and ‘bump’ into you at work one day. He was impatient and couldn’t wait any longer to speak to you again, to hear your voice directed at him again and not at someone else.

He entered the library confidently that day, dressed in blue jeans, low heeled boots and a tee that was stretched just a bit at the collar. His hair unstyled and glasses on his nose with his clutch under his arm. He didn’t want to go over the top in style, so he tried to match your neutral style of dress.

He took a moment to look at you before he took a breath and walked up to the desk, placing a fake smile of shock on his face when you looked up to see him. He nearly fell to his knees when he saw your eyes shine and your mouth split into a smile and wave at him. If he could, he would’ve ran the rest of the way to the desk instead of walked.

When he walked at the desk, he leaned and laid his arms in front of one another on the desktop, bending and crossing his ankles together and grinned at you.

“Well, fancy meeting you here, madam librarian,” he greeted, acting as if he hadn’t been here daily for the past week just to see you work.

“It’s been a little bit, it’s good to see you Changkyun,” you said and he felt himself shift sinfully. “I’d ask you why you’re here, but it’s a library, so,” you chuckled at yourself. Oh, how he missed the sound of that laugh. “Did you come looking for something specific?” You asked as he jut his lip out in thought.

“Not necessarily. I just felt like cracking open a book, and what better place to start looking? It's a pleasant surprise you work at this library. It’s close to where I live.” That was true, there were two other libraries in town and this one was the closest to him. You hummed at him. “Could you recommend something to me?” He grew giddy when you smiled widely and stood from your desk chair and started to walk around the desk, motioning for him to follow you.

As you asked him what he liked and disliked, leading him down the isles and scanning book after book, keeping small conversation he wished he could push you against a bookshelf and have his wicked way with you. He knew better, however; you needed to be taken care of in a specific set of ways and against a bookshelf wasn’t it- tempting as it may be.

“Here,” you told him as you spun around and placed a book in his hands. As he took it, he quirked a small, teasing smile as he looked at you as if you were playing a joke on him.

“Twilight? Really, Y/n?” In his hand sat the book that sprung up the cheesy, cliche and overall, not so great movies he watched with one of his old friends for gags one night in his teens- completely drunk he may add.

“Hey, don’t judge a book by it’s cover- or it’s movies. It’s better than you think.” You shoved the book closer to his chest. “Just give it a chance, please?” When you ask so adorably with your lip jutted out just enough for him to fantasize leaning down to bite into it with his teeth, he had no choice but to comply. He’d read this book cover to cover, backwards even had you asked. He’d do whatever you wished.

He spent the afternoon halfway reading at a table near the desk and halfway watching you work until your shift concluded. When you were packing up, he scrambled to get his clutch and mark the page he had to reread over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate and rushed up and over to your side.

“Are you finished for the day?” He asked although he already knew the answer. You nodded as he touched your arm, grabbing gently around your elbow. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked as he saw your cheeks grew in the most vibrant color of rose.

“I, uh,” you cleared your throat and rubbed the back of your neck with your free arm. “I’m not dressed for a date though,” you pouted. Changkyun licked his lips, desperate not to let you get away from him just yet.

“Then, tomorrow,” he pitched, “when you’re free tomorrow we can go out.” Tomorrow was Wednesday, and he knew that you always left work early on Wednesdays. He watched you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you licked your lips before rolling them over your teeth and then opening your mouth.

“I can do tomorrow,” you muttered, face fully flushed with redness flooding into the tips of your ears. He released your arm with a giant smile. He flicked his bangs out of his face as he felt his glasses slip just a bit further down his nose. He reached into his clutch as he dug out his phone and handed it to you with the new contact screen up.

“Let’s swap numbers then, and we can work out everything through the phone.” You didn’t hesitate to place your number into his phone before sending yourself a text with ‘it’s changkyun’ attached to the message. You promptly added him in your contacts as well. Offering you a ride home, which you took, he dropped you off and when he walked into his penthouse that afternoon he pumped his fist into the air. As well as stared at the palm in which held your arm earlier, gazing at it as if he had just touched the blessed body of a holy messiah.

As he sat in his living room on the couch, he felt himself harden in his sweats he wore before changing into his work attire. He had actually called in to take the night off since he had to be well rested for his date tomorrow. This hand had touched you, touched your skin. He was sure it would feel magnificent on his cock too.

-x-x-x-

Tomorrow didn’t come fast enough and Changkyun was bounding out of bed at the ass crack of dawn to figure out what he was going to wear. How would he style his hair? Would he fill all his ear piercings or change the stud in his eyebrow to a spike? Which shoes would he wear: sneakers, heeled boots, sandals? He couldn’t waste another second in bed, he had far too much to plan for the day to worry about sleeping any more.

He dove for his phone the moment he heard the specific notification he set for you. He talked to you a bit and you both decided on a time to meet up. Meeting up at noon for lunch and then he’d take you to a movie and then he’d walk around with you window shopping, talking about the movie you both saw and then he’d take you for dinner. That’s what he wanted to happen.

He showed up at the meeting place half an hour early. Wearing a black, white spotted button up tucked into a pair of black jeans with a thin, white belt around his waist, he adjusted the buttons at the cuffs of his sleeves. A simple, thin silver chain to show off his neck as his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show off his collar bones. The heels of his shoes clacked just enough on pavement or tile to let people know he was coming.

“Changkyun!” He heard from behind him. He raised himself off the bench had had been sitting cross-legged on, staring at his phone and debating on texting you. He quickly spotted you waving to him from among the crowd of people on the hunt for lunch before their work break ends.

His mouth nearly dropped when he saw you. Running up to him with the cutest, apparel on.

A summer dress of pale pink with small white dots that wrapped around your chest and fell loosely at the skirt to hit your thighs. The sleeves off shoulder and sheer all the way down your arm until it wrapped around your wrist in sheere frills. Black, thin straps to keep it all up. A pair of white sandals that wrapped around your foot and ankle with the smallest heel to keep you from twisting your ankle. Hair done in two little buns on either side of your head, but still kept some down with a black, stretchy choker around your neck.

The pink, circular satchel at your waist that hooked over your shoulder probably contained your phone, wallet and the pink gloss that covered your lips as you came to stop in front of him. You were like a flower as he gazed at you. You quickly lifted your wrist to check the thin watch you wore, making sure you weren’t late. You weren’t.

“I hope you weren’t waiting here too long for me,” you giggled and he felt his heart try to burst from his chest. He shook off his stupor the best he could in front of you before he smiled and quickly denied it.

“I haven’t been here long,” he assured. You made a small jest about the both of you wearing something with small polka dots on it and he felt like he was going to fall to his knees at your noticing his attire and complimenting it. You were far too precious.

Throughout the day, he found out that you weren’t only exceptionally kind, but you were probably the biggest pushover he’s ever met. You’d follow after him like a little lost duckling and whatever he recommended doing, wherever he wanted to go, you were quick to agree and comply. With your ease of compliance, he was able to mentally go through the check list of plans he had set with little to no difficulty.

It was miraculous how easily you obeyed him.

Changkyun made note of everything your eyes lingered on, everything your fingers brushed, everything you expressed just the slightest interest in- he would remember. Changkyun wanted to spoil you, wanted to give you everything you desired- everything you deserved. You were an angel walking, cursed upon the earth and nothing anyone could say would change his mind about it.

The entire time you were out with Changkyun that day, you were smiling at him as he hung onto every one of your words. Every interest, every detail, every idea or opinion you had- he grabbed it and held it deep inside his chest.

It was coming close to around ten that night when he was finally getting around to dropping you back home, as he could see the exhaustion in your eyes and the slowness in your steps. He had half a mind to just drive you back to his home, but he couldn’t- not yet.

He walked you to your door as he bid you a final goodnight and as you unlocked your door and pushed it open just a crack, you turned back to him and smiled. He froze when he felt your fingers on his cheek before you stood to your toes and kissed his cheek. You rushed inside before he could say anything and before you could regret it.

The blond sat dazed and only managed to drive a block away before he pulled into a parking lot of a closed, daytime store. His cheeks were flushed, his skin burned and his breath was staggered. He could still feel the feeling of your lips on his cheek and that shiver of delight attacked his spine and spread until he was finishing himself off in the front seat of his car- the sound of your name on his lips over and over again as his fingers brushed his cheek trying to feel the essence of you in his skin.

-x-x-x-

Changkyun had the privilege of taking you out on two more dates over the course of the last two weeks (along with his library trips to visit you) and it was today, when he once again frequented the library- where he noticed you weren’t in your usual high spirits. He pulled you aside on your break and into a back corner library table as he made you spill your guts on what could be plaguing your mind.

It took all of his will power to not scream when you told him you had been being harassed by some library guest who always comes in. He always wants the same book renewed over and over and he always tried to pry your number out of you. Even after clearly telling him no and explaining to you that you were traveling among the silver lining of a relationship with Changkyun- he was persistent. It came to the point you were looking over your shoulder and even jogging to and from work.

“So, he’s stalking you?” Changkyun clarified, as you nodded weakly. He grit his teeth, his jaw tightening. Didn’t other people know that his woman was off limits, especially when it came to following you around? He kept you under his watchful eye, but these men were after something far worse and in his sick, demented mind- they were the offender and they were a disease.

Changkyun reached across the table and gently held your hand, trying to convey that he knew that you were scared and that he’d do anything to keep you safe. He could see the tears glisten around your eyes and a taboo sense of arousal shot in his stomach at seeing your so utterly weak and vulnerable.

He spent the remainder of the time with you on your break as he consoled and shushed you as he promised that he’d stay until you got off and when you did, he’d take you home. You were quick to agree.

That afternoon you rushed to Changkyun’s side and were discreet to point out the man who was hanging outside the library entrance with his nose in his phone. According to you, that was the perpetrator and source of your fear. You clung to Changkyun as he gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders and held you to his chest, walking out with you.

When he dropped you off and kissed the top of your head as he sent you inside, the gentle eyes he had been gazing at you with disappeared as you shut the door and he heard it harshly lock.

Turning around and stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, he waltzed back towards his car, but never got into it. His dark shirt allowed him to dip below the hood of his car as he started walking around in the shadows the street lights created. He stood behind a post as he watched the figure move from the side of the building to the front porch where he crouched below the windows.

You had pulled the curtains and shut the blinds just as he had reminded you to as he was quick to walk up behind the stalker and hook his arm under the man’s chin. The gasp that was pulled from the man was cut off as Changkyun’s arm tightened around his neck and he started to quickly drag the man backward and away from your doorstep.

The blond shoved the man into the backseat of his car, slamming the door as he quickly rushed to get into the driver's seat. Not bothering with his seatbelt, he started the car with tangible rage and started off.

“What the fuck, man!” The man from his backseat scowled as Changkyun only reached into his center console and pulled out a small, black handheld device, pressing the button on the side of it as it zapped. A stungun. The man in the back hissed as he instinctively shut up.

Changkyun’s aggressive driving made the man in the backseat fall back and forth along the seats before he finally gripped the passenger chair to steady himself. Changkyun drove and drove until he was well outside of city limits before he stopped and parked his car. He peered up into the rear-view mirror, seeing the man behind him look around anxiously.

“Get out,” the blond ordered as he stepped out of his car. The man didn’t move, too shocked to process his words and was then yanked out by his shirt clad shoulder when he didn’t listen quick enough for Changkyun’s liking. The club worker threw the man on the ground as he rolled to his back just quick enough for Changkyun to stand over him. His feet on either side of his hips, a glimmer in his eyes that was menacing to witness- even in the darkness of night.

The man on the ground shuddered as he weakly tried to crawl backward on his elbows. His heels kicked and dug into the ground, threatening to pull his shoe off, as he tried to get away from the look in the blond’s eyes.

Changkyun’s foot came to the center of the man’s chest as he stomped, pushing him flat onto the ground. He knelt, coming closer to him as he gripped the collar of his shirt. Changkyun eyed him around- he certainly wasn’t a looker that's for damn sure.

“You really thought you had a chance?” He asked lowly, almost in a growl. “I’ll offer you a bit of last moment advice for perhaps your next life,” he got closer to the man’s ear, before telling him something. “Stay away from things that don’t belong to you,” he seethed.

Over the course of the next few days, Changkyun was delighted to see you smiling again when you told him that the man who had been stalking you seemed to finally leave you alone.

He made sure that a week later when he saw missing person posters out in the streets, your eyes stayed off of them.

-x-x-x-

After a month of dates, library visits, phone calls and good morning and good night texts, Changkyun was finally- finally- able to call you his girlfriend. He was currently out with you at some cafe where you wanted to stop and get something to drink and he decided to walk in and sit down with you for a while.

You were on your phone, tapping away before placing it down and repeating. You were obviously talking with someone on the other end of your text thread, which already ground his gears, but the twisted brow on your face made him more curious than not. Someone was upsetting you and he already knew how to deal with someone who upset you.

“Hey,” he called, gaining your attention. You looked at him, placing your phone back down. “Who’re you talking to, Sweetness?”

“Oh, just to Halie,” you told him. The name of your ‘best friend’ making his skin itch. That fake fraud of a friend couldn’t even leave you alone while you were out with him? The audacity of the woman made him jittery. His knee began to bounce as he pressed further.

“Are you two fighting? You look annoyed.”

You sighed, solidifying that she was indeed bothering you. “She’s mad that I’m out on a date,” you grumbled. Changkyun cocked his head.

“Excuse me?” His resentment slipped out just a small fraction as he wanted to know immediately what this witch was putting into your precious little head. “She’s mad at you for what?”

You groaned again, placing your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm, you huffed. “I think she’s just upset that I have a boyfriend before she does since she knows more people.” The tone in your voice made your annoyance apparent to Changkyun who had spent the last month of his life learning every little quirk in your day to day life- including your vocal tone. “She’s got a whole list of friends and while I have just enough to count on one hand, she's mad about my relationship.”

Changkyun watched you toil the situation around in your head, trying to justify her words and actions, but he couldn’t let you do that. This was a prime opportunity. The perfect time to finally get that wench out of the picture and away from you.

He reached across the table where he sat in front of you, careful not to knock into your drink.

“Darling,” he cooed, gaining your teary, stress filled eyes, “maybe you shouldn’t be talking to her.” He watched your brow quirk and turn inwards at his suggestion. He readjusted his grip on your hand, holding it tightly. “If she’s so angry about something like us, then maybe you should go on a little break at least.”

“But-”

“I know she’s your friend,” he fought back before you could try and save Halie’s snake skin, “but every time you talk about her with me, it’s all things that stress you out or things she’s done that make you uncomfortable.” He vividly remembers the club night of her birthday. “Pressuring you into clubbing, then not paying attention to you at all even though you weren’t enjoying yourself. Never talking to you unless she needs something or someone to bother. Now, she’s angry because you’re happy with me? She’s just using you, Sweetheart.”

“I know she seems bad, but-”

“Y/n,” he breathed in a small, soft scolding tone. “You can’t keep defending her and giving her what she wants. She has to learn, one way or the other.” He watched your lips turn into a pout as he ran his thumb over your knuckles and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it. “I just want the best for you, you know that.”

He bit back a victorious smirk when you told him that you’d take his suggestion and advice to heart and think about it. A little more nudging and you’d drop Halie like a hat. He just had to wait until she brought something else up again that put a target on her back.

It didn’t take but three days for that to occur.

You were home, off on a Sunday, just sitting in your home, on the phone with Changkyun while he just woke up from resting since he had work at Fantasia Dyed that evening. He had some private show booked up so he couldn’t afford to flake out either. He needed the cash for his personal project he always teased, and this coming party was sure to deliver.

You both were chatting happily until you were cut shut but someone pounding on your door. You told Changkyun to hold on a moment as you set your phone down on the arm of your couch and went to the door. Changkyun on the other hand went and immediately opened the camera footage of your front door he had from that camera in your bush.

He growled and jumped out of bed when he saw the back of Halie in the frame. Her arms were crossed and her leg was bouncing as she slouched. When you opened the door, her crossed arms flared out and she was clearly shouting at you from the hiking of her shoulders and the fact that he could hear her obnoxious voice through the call line.

He jumped out of bed. Nothing but sweats on as he threw on a jacket, leaving his chest naked before he was out of his penthouse, racing down the stairs and in his car on the way to your home. He kept the call live- as much as he didn’t want to hear her voice- so he could hear the venom she spat at you as he worked her way inside. Stomping around and screaming like the bitch she was.

When he showed up to your home and jumped out of the car, he finally hung the call up as he stormed inside, knowing the door was unlocked from Halie’s tempertatrum. When he came in, he saw you against the wall with your ‘best friend’ not a foot away from you still screaming at you like you were deaf.

He worked his way over before he was grabbing Halie’s shoulder, shoving her away and placing himself in front of you, walking back into your space until he felt your hands push on his shoulders. He glared at the party animal blonde in front of him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He seethed as she seemed taken aback by his language towards her- a lady.

“Excuse me?” She spat.

“I suggest you leave, or else I’ll make you leave.”

“You can’t make me do anything. This isn’t your home either. I’m just talking to, Y/n.” Changkyun stepped away from you, turning the woman around by her shoulders and started pushing her.

“Yeah? And you’re done now. Get out.” He told her, shoving her out the doorway once he worked her through the front room. Before she could fight back, he got close to her ear and told her one more thing before shutting the door in her face and locking. “Stay away, or I’ll make you.” The look in his eyes, the crazed dangerous gleam, made his threat very, very real.

When he turned back around, he saw you on the ground, curled up as you cried. He rushed to your side, rubbing your back and trying to get you to lift your head to look at him. He cooed when he saw your swollen eyes and fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” he shushed as you just wordlessly nodded with choked hiccups and sputters. You were seriously an ugly crier, but what could you do? Your best friend broke your heart.

Changkyun shifted to hold you to his bare, jacket clad chest as you cried and he shushed you.

“Don’t worry. You don’t need anyone else. I’ll always be here.” He promised.

-x-x-x-

All it took was one more month, and everything was finally falling into place for Changkyun. Halie had officially left your side, with one or two more scraps between him and her before she finally called it quits. And with the queen bee of your circle gone, the rest quickly fell apart and you were left with no one but Changkyun- as you should be.

He was in his extra bedroom, setting up his project more when his phone rang. He jumped to it, knowing it was you calling after you got done with your shift at the library. He had told you to call him when you had the chance, since he wanted you to come somewhere tonight.

“Hello, darling,” he purred into the phone, hearing you slightly chuckle on the other line. “Did work go well? No annoyances?” He asked and he knew that you’d tell him about the computers or the receipt machine or the squeaky wheel on the return cart; but you never knew that he really meant to know if you were being bothered by any other man again. “Well, if your evening is cleared up, why not swing on by Fantasia tonight?”

He heard you pause on the other side of the phone call as he was walking out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. It was almost perfect.

“I’m not sure,” you drawled.

“I’m working the floor tonight, bar-tending for staff out sick. You can sit at the bar with me.” Your hesitation was loud and clear for him as he continued. “I’d really appreciate the company, but if you’d rather not-” he quickly heard you try and reconcile and save the conversation but agreeing to his proposal. You were a sucker for guilt trips. “Really?” He asked in faux concern as he grinned, throwing himself back across the length of his couch.

“Yeah. I’ll come, just promise that you’ll stay at the bar.”

“I’ll do my best. If I have to leave, just hide in the bathroom until I’m back,” ‘so that you won’t be in contact with anyone other than me’, he added silently in his head. You agreed and he said a quick goodbye before he hung up the call. He sat up and peered down his hall, picturing the door of his extra room. Soon, you’d be with him always.

It was an hour after his shift started and he had just served yet another waiting patron when he felt his phone buzz in the back pocket of his pants. He wore a mesh shirt at the bar that showed off his torso. His tattoo in the middle of his back was on display when he turned around. His eyebrow piercing was a black ring this evening and he wore silver hoops in his earlobes. His knee high, buckle punk boots lifting him three inches higher into the air.

‘I’m here, where do I go?’ Your text read with a nervous emoji beside it. He told you the location of the mini side stage bar and soon your head popped out from among the mass of alcohol driver party goers. As you got to the bar and slid into a stool in front of him, he leaned on the counter and whistled at you.

“Well, look who dressed up for me tonight?” He asked, a purr in his voice as your cheeks flushed. He recognized this get up, it was a piece he picked out for you one night. It wasn’t something he thought you’d ever wear out, since you were rather reserved, but he thought you deserved it anyway.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but even a simple, black cocktail dress with lace running up the sides of it and looping around your neck and back looked good when placed on someone as breathtaking as yourself to Changkyun’s eyes. He could faintly hear you clicking your heels together underneath you as they were hooked on the metal foot ring of the stool. The bracelet and earrings were a nice touch.

“I thought it was appropriate since you bought it for me,” you muttered, unable to look at him in the eyes. He chuckled since it wasn’t hard to guess why. His entire chest was on display to see with only lines of fabric separating his entire torso from being nude. He halfway wished he had gotten his nipples pierced when he was on the fence about it months ago just to see how you’d react to that.

He stood back up and turned his back and he could feel your eyes scan the tattoo that rested between his shoulders. Large and taking up a good portion of real estate on his skin. He smirked as he felt you stare, a shiver wracking up his spine just as it always did with you. When he turned around, he offered you a glass of water he had so neatly prepared for you.

“I know you don’t drink, sweetheart,” he told you as you graciously thanked him for the drink. Throughout the course of his shift, he was tending to people left and right. His charisma between patrons and ways of addressing person to person just by acknowledging how they seemed to looked amazed you.

You could never hope to be the people person he is. He was bold enough to get on stage, strip and get behind closed doors for his way of life. He was fearless in your eyes and you admired him for it. He had told you that he would stop sleeping around for money since he was in a relationship with you now, but you just told him it was alright.

You trusted him, and although the idea of him sleeping around did grind under your skin like ice and salt, you knew that was his job. He worked in this industry- the sex industry- so that was the end of it. He had started to dwindle down in client numbers though, never wanting to have the sex he was getting paid for last too long.

The clock struck midnight and Changkyun turned back to you the moment he had an opening to. He leaned over the counter and towards you again, just so he could talk to you clearly over the loud bass and whistling from the stage work.

“What do you say I make a drink for you?” He offered. You looked at your half empty glass of water he had refilled at least three times now. “Just one, I promise. It’ll be on me too. I just want my girlfriend to taste some of my work since I don’t get to work the bar often.”

“Well, when you say it like that,” you whined as he just chuckled and stood up, turning his back and started mixing. It was three minutes later when he was sliding a cocktail glass gently towards you. Inside sat a liquid of pink that resembled the color of pink lemonade, but you knew whatever was inside that wasn’t lemonade. “Voilà,” he told you. “That’s something new I’m trying out. You get to be the first to try it.”

His smile looked innocent enough to your eyes and as you started taking sips of it with a smile and a nod; however, you missed a sinister glint in his eyes. You complimented him on it and found yourself sipping on the drink, making it last until well after one since you didn’t want to have him make another. It was half after when Changkyun noticed you starting to sway in your stool seat.

He placed the towel he had in his hands on the bar before he rounded the bar to your side.

“Darling, come with me. You look like you’re about to pass out,” he chuckled. You couldn’t get your mouth to move or your voice to work as your mind was just as fuzzy as your eyesight. Were you really that much of a light weight? He took you back into one of his private rooms before he placed you on the bed. He sat beside you, brushing your hair from your face and running his fingers around your face, skin and shoulders down your arm. “Sleep. I'll come get you later,” he told you softly- the totally opposite tone of the smirk on his face.

You were in and out of it for the duration of Changkyun picking you up from the bed you vaguely remember placing you on. He picked you up and took you out of the room. The bass of the club had stopped and you only heard him speaking briefly with coworkers before he loaded you into his car.

It felt like he was taking you home as he removed you from the car again and heard the jingles of keys before a door was opened. You only remembered being placed in a bed before you felt him kiss your forehead and you were out for good.

You groaned as you were finally waking up. Your head hurt and you felt like your throat had sandpaper in it. You coughed lightly as you reached your hand up to rub your throat, but something was around your neck.

Feeling around, it felt like a collar or something. It was thick and leather, a small loop in the front of it. You also thought you felt tags near the loop that jangled. Groaning and moving among the mattress you realized that it was pitch black in the room. You were sure your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see a thing.

Sitting up, you felt around your body. Your cocktail dress wasn’t on you instead it felt like a nightgown was. Did you own nightgowns? IT feel off your shoulders to wrap around your chest and biceps with frills as it bunched around your thighs on the mattress.

Your head pounded as you rubbed your eyes. You moved to try and crawl from the bed when you felt something tug on your ankle. Feeling around, whatever was on your ankle was thick, cold and hard. At first you thought it was some anklet, but then you felt something protrude from the cold metal.

Pulling and tracing your fingers around it, you started to panic. It felt like a chain.

You got off the bed you were convinced wasn’t yours as you walked around like some cheap, budget-movie zombie in the dark room. You found a dresser first. Feeling around, you felt the knobs of the four drawers and on top it had what felt like boxes. Reaching further, you found the dresser had a mirror attached to the back of it.

Moving around in the opposite direction, you reached a closet door. Pull it open, you feel all sorts of soft fabric. Silks, satin, fur, cotton, linen- you felt all sorts of clothing.

You looked around the dark room in panic before you trusted your voice.

“Changkyun,” you called softly. You were going to call him again, but stopped short as you stepped on the cold chain that was around your foot. You screamed as you fell backward and before long, you heard someone padding up to the room and the door swung open.

You scrambled back, covering your face with your arms as you soon felt the foot of the bed push against your back, keeping you from going back any further.

“Sweetness, are you awake already?” Your arms that were up slowly lowered as you looked to the open doorway. It was so bright outside of the dark room, you had to squint from the stark contrast. Whoever was in the doorway sounded just like Changkyun, but- it couldn’t be. He walked closer to you. “Darling, can you talk?” His hand came to your throat, touching it with the pad of his fingers above the collar around your neck. “Are you thirsty? It has been half a day.”

You were speechless as Changkyun stood up from in front of you before he walked out of the room. You moved to your knees and looked around. The dresser and closet you found were indeed what you thought.

The bed was a canopy bed. A white frame with pink fabric hanging from it. The covers were red and white with a plethora of pillows at the head of the mattress. There was a rack of four wood dowels by the bedroom door, and three of them a different kind of leash, and the fourth had a pair of handcuffs.

The one window in the room was covered with black out curtains- you couldn’t tell if it was daytime or not outside right now.

Looking down now that you had the light from outside the room, you indeed did have a shackled ankle. You began to pull at it, the cold metal yanking around your skin- pinching and shafting it painfully. You hissed as your yanking was stopped by Changkyun shouting.

“Don’t pull on that!” He cried, dropping to your side to pull your hands from your shackle. “I need to put felt and fur on it before you can move around in it safely. It’ll ruin your skin, but bear with it for now.”

“Changkyun, what?” You squeaked. He smiled, but it was twisted in some sort of menacing light. Maybe it was the light from behind him into the dark room that made him look sinister. You felt yourself begin to tremble.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he told you, patting your head and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Changkyun will take care of everything. I told you to remember?” He caressed your hair, tracing his finger down your face and under your chin. He then moved to hook his finger through the hoop in your collar. “I told you, you don’t need anyone else. I’m all that you need. You are the princess, and this is your tower.” He flicked at the tags on your collar, one labeled ‘Princess’ and the other engraved with his initials.

He then reached to his side to the discarded glass of water he went to get for you earlier for your throat. He gently gripped around your neck and used the back of his hand to tilt your chin up.

The mixing of emotions in your eyes made him shiver and when you blinked out a small tear he gently moved to place his lips over it. The salty taste made him groan as he leaned back and kissed your nose to see your eyes glossy. He smiled at you as he brought the glass to your lips.

“Drink up, Princess.”

a/n: i’ve never ever written a yandere fic before in my life, and as my first try- i rly dont think i did all that bad LOL. Let me know what you think bc it’s very rare I post Monsta X fic content and I need to know if you guys are still into it ;n; (especially with Wonho’s debut days away and a fic for him in progress LOL)

#im changkyun #changkyun #monsta x #mx #changkyun x reader #i.m.#i.m. x reader #yandere!changkyun #yandere #yandere!changkyun x reader #changkyun x reader au #yandere au #changkyun fic #changkyun fanfic #changkyun fanfiction #tw

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