#like yeah getting feedback is really nice but like

[ryomenslvr]

feedback

interlude

rockstar!ryomen sukuna x reader x rockstar!satoru gojo

synopsis: Two rival bands. One sound engineer. Trapped between Gojo’s charm and Sukuna’s intensity, you navigate a world where music is war, tension runs high, and falling for the frontman, or both, could change everything.

a/n: this fan fiction is heavily inspired by @/indiewritesxoxo ‘s no. 1 party anthem series! (which you should 100% check out! it’s such an incredible concept and it’s very addicting. you can find it here)

content warnings: MDNI, emotional conflict, slight smut, blurred boundaries, complicated relationship dynamics

series masterlist

You’re not sure why you agreed to this. Maybe it was to avoid what happened at the venue. Maybe it was because, deep down, you really did want to go back to Sukuna’s place.

You weren’t sure.

That’s what you were thinking as you sat in the passenger seat of Sukuna’s, admittedly nice, car. Clean leather, deep red interior lights, quiet music pulsing through the speakers like a heartbeat. It didn’t smell like him, not exactly. More like winter air, soft cologne, and something faintly metallic. The kind of scent you couldn’t name but would remember.

He didn’t talk much on the drive.

You didn’t either.

And maybe that was the first thing you noticed, how silence with Sukuna didn’t press in the same way it did with others. It wasn’t awkward. It was patient. Steady. Like he knew the words would come eventually and he wasn’t going to fish for them before you were ready.

When he pulled up to the curb outside a tall, narrow building tucked into a dim side street, he glanced at you, not expectantly, but just to check.

“You good?” he asked simply.

You nodded, even if you didn’t fully mean it.

The inside of his apartment was… unexpected.

Clean. Minimalist. Dark wood floors and black walls, lit only by warm, golden track lights and a single floor lamp. A guitar rack stood against one wall, lined with instruments that looked expensive and well-loved. There were band posters too, some framed, some slightly crooked. Not all of them were his.

He toed off his boots by the door and gestured for you to come in. “Make yourself at home.”

You hesitated before stepping fully inside, your fingers brushing the doorframe like you were trying to get a read on the space through touch alone.

“It’s nice,” you said quietly.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Didn’t peg you for someone who’d be surprised by furniture.”

You snorted softly. “Didn’t peg you as someone who dusts.”

“I don’t. My manager sends someone once a month.”

You wandered further in, pausing in front of a set of black-and-white photos hung over the couch. One showed a younger Sukuna on stage, no tattoos yet, hair longer, his mouth open mid-scream. Another showed his band’s first tour lineup, all in sharpie-scrawled t-shirts, sitting on a cracked curb with fast food bags between their feet.

“You look… lighter here,” you said without thinking.

He joined you, arms crossed, eyes flicking to the photo. “I was.”

You nodded slowly. “What changed?”

He was quiet for a beat. Then: “Success. Pressure. Satoru.”

That last word made your chest tighten.

He didn’t elaborate. Just walked to the kitchen and pulled two bottles of tea from the fridge, same kind he always left on your console.

He handed you one.

“Thanks.”

You both sat on the couch, and for a while, the silence returned. He flicked on a playlist, mostly instrumentals, ambient and slow. Nothing flashy. Nothing with words.

“Why’d you say yes?” he asked eventually.

You turned to him. “To coming here?”

He nodded.

You stared at the tea bottle in your hands. “Because I didn’t want to go home.”

“That all?”

You exhaled. “I don’t know. It’s like, being around you is confusing, but being away from you is...”

That earned a small, sardonic smile. “You’re not exactly easy for me either.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, then turned fully to face you. “You walk into a room and everything feels like it’s about to change.”

You blinked. “That’s dramatic.”

“It’s true,” he said, and there was no teasing in it. “You ask questions no one else does. You make things feel like they’re worth saying out loud.”

You looked away. “Gojo says stuff like that too.”

“He would.”

You turned back. “He’s not a bad guy.”

“I never said he was.”

“You hate him.”

Sukuna’s gaze sharpened slightly, but he didn’t deny it.

“I respected him once,” he said. “Maybe still do, in ways I don’t like admitting. He was the first person who made me feel like I had to prove myself. I used to think that was a compliment.”

You let the silence settle again.

“He’s in love with you,” Sukuna added, like it wasn’t a question.

“I know,” you whispered.

“Do you love him back?”

You didn’t answer right away. The words tangled up in your throat.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I think I did. Maybe I still do, in that way you love the people who grew up beside you. But he’s… he’s always been my anchor. And lately it feels like I’ve been trying to swim, and he’s afraid I’ll drift too far.”

Sukuna’s eyes stayed on you, unreadable.

You reached for something to change the subject, heart pounding.

“Earlier, when you were teaching me guitar, can we go back to that?”

He blinked. “Yeah. You still interested?”

“Sort of,” you said. “It just felt like something I didn’t have to overthink.”

Sukuna stood up and retrieved a guitar, handing it to you with careful hands. It wasn’t the same one from earlier in the day, no, this one was a deep red. It matched his eyes.

You held it like it might break.

“Relax,” he said, moving to sit beside you. “You’re gripping it like it owes you money.”

You laughed. “Sorry. It’s expensive.”

He chuckled and shifted closer, knees brushing yours. “Here. Try this chord.”

You fumbled. He reached around you, one arm across your back, his hand guiding yours into position.

Your breath hitched.

His voice was low, barely above your ear. “There. Feel that?”

You nodded, unable to speak.

He didn’t move away immediately. His hand lingered on yours. His presence wrapped around you like gravity, quiet and impossible to ignore.

You didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

His breath was warm on your neck. His arm still draped lightly behind you, steadying the guitar, steadying you. You weren’t sure when you’d started leaning into him, or if you had at all, but suddenly the space between your bodies didn’t exist. It was like the air itself had shifted, grown heavier, slower.

“You’re holding your breath,” Sukuna murmured.

You exhaled, shaky, caught.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

He tilted his head just enough for his temple to brush yours. “You always apologize when you get close to something.”

Your fingers tensed slightly around the fretboard. “Close to what?”

He didn’t answer, not directly. His hand ghosted down your arm, knuckles skimming your wrist as he took the neck of the guitar from you and gently set it aside. His other hand landed on your knee, barely touching, just enough for your breath to catch again.

“Maybe it’s not the guitar that’s making you nervous,” he said, voice quiet but deliberate.

You met his eyes.

It was hard not to.

In the soft light, his expression was unreadable again, but his focus was unshakable, like everything about him was wired for intensity. He didn’t look at people, he looked into them.

“I don’t usually do this,” you admitted, voice low.

He gave a slow nod. “I figured.”

You laughed once, awkwardly. “That obvious?”

“Only to someone who notices,” he said.

His hand slid just a little higher along your thigh, resting there with purpose. Not pushing. Not testing. Just letting you feel him.

“Sukuna…” you said, unsure of the rest.

“I won’t rush you,” he said quickly. “If you’re not sure, just say so. I don’t need the wrong kind of silence.”

But you weren’t unsure.

That was the terrifying part.

Your whole body felt like it was strung on a wire, every nerve humming. You weren’t afraid of him, you were afraid of how easy it was to want him. How easy it was to forget the rest of the world existed when his voice dropped to that tone and he looked at you like nothing else in the room mattered.

“I’m not confused about this,” you whispered.

A pause. His gaze sharpened just slightly.

“Then what are you confused about?”

“Everything else.”

That made him smile, small, crooked. But real.

“Good,” he said, leaning in closer until your noses nearly brushed. “Let everything else wait.”

And then he kissed you.

Not cautiously. Not testing the waters. It was deliberate and slow, confident in a way that left no room for doubt.

His mouth was warm, more grounding than dreamy. Where Gojo’s touches always felt like flirting with gravity, Sukuna’s felt like being claimed by it, steady, certain, unmistakably real.

You opened to him without meaning to, lips parting as he deepened the kiss. One of his hands moved to your waist, the other brushing your jaw, holding you still like he didn’t want to let you drift.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to catch your breath, to feel your pulse in your throat. “This isn’t complicated for you?”

He shook his head. “It could be. But it’s not. Not when you’re here.”

You swallowed.

“Then take me out of my head.”

He didn’t need more than that.

In a fluid motion, he leaned back into you, drawing you into his lap, your knees bracketing his hips on the couch. The guitar was forgotten, pushed somewhere behind you. His hands slid up your thighs, then under the hem of your shirt, thumbs tracing slow, grounding lines against your skin.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he said against your throat, even as his lips pressed there, open and slow.

“I’ll tell you,” you breathed, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, though it didn’t sound like a question.

“So are you,” you whispered back.

That got a laugh out of him, a low, warm sound that vibrated against your collarbone. His hand moved higher, palm splaying across your back as he pulled you closer.

Then his mouth was on yours again, hungrier now. Like something in him had snapped once he knew you wanted this too. His teeth grazed your lower lip, and you gasped, heat licking through your body at the sound of it.

You didn’t know when your hands started tugging at his shirt, or when his fingers found the waistband of your jeans, but suddenly you were drowning in sensation. His body against yours. His breath against your skin. His voice, low and wrecked, murmuring things you couldn’t even process as his mouth moved along your jaw, your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“Sukuna,” you whispered, the word barely holding shape in your mouth.

He looked up at you, eyes heavy, pupils blown wide. “Say it again.”

You did.

You said it again and again as the couch shifted beneath you, as his hands mapped out your skin like he was memorizing you, as the last of the distance between you disappeared.

And by the time the room had settled again, clothes discarded in a lazy trail to the floor, your body aching in the best possible way, there was only one thing you knew for sure.

You hadn’t just gone to his apartment to forget what happened at the venue.

You had come here to be seen.

And Sukuna?

He had seen all of you.

You woke to quiet.

The kind of quiet that felt unfamiliar, not the cold stillness of your own apartment, not the background hum of an empty venue. This silence had weight to it. Warmth.

You didn’t open your eyes at first.

There was pressure against your back, steady, strong. A forearm draped loosely over your waist. The slow, measured rise and fall of a chest behind you. You were still tucked under a blanket, curled up in a bed that wasn’t yours. The scent of tea, cedar, and that faint metallic note from last night lingered in the air, now mixed with something warmer. Skin and sleep.

Sukuna.

Your stomach twisted, not with regret, but with the soft jolt of realization.

You’d stayed.

You’d fallen asleep in his bed. In his arms.

And he hadn’t let go.

Carefully, slowly, you shifted your arm and reached for your phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with a low glow, casting blue light across the room.

It was past ten.

You blinked.

Two messages at the top of your screen made your stomach drop:

[10:07 AM] Ijichi (Venue Manager):

Hey. You and Ryomen were scheduled for load-in yesterday—everything okay?

And then another, from someone else entirely.

[9:46 AM] SATORU:

Thought you said you needed space.

Guess I just didn’t realize who you wanted space with.

There were several more messages from him, all scattered across the night, each one a little softer… and a little sadder.

[11:12 PM] SATORU:

You’re not answering. That’s fine.

I just wish you’d tell me when things change.

[11:24 PM] SATORU:

I keep wondering when I stopped being enough.

When did you stop telling me things?

[11:46 PM] SATORU:

Sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’m just—

I don’t know what I’m doing either.

[12:03 AM] SATORU:

Forget it. Pretend I didn’t say any of that.

[12:19 AM] SATORU:

I hope he makes you laugh the way I did.

Or better. Maybe you deserve better.

[12:47 AM] SATORU:

I keep checking my phone like an idiot.

Why do I do that?

[1:03 AM] SATORU:

I miss you.

Even when I try not to.

[1:26 AM] SATORU:

I’m going to bed. Don’t worry. I won’t message again.

You swallowed hard, pulse tightening behind your ribs. You turned your phone screen over, pressing it to the mattress like that would erase what you saw. Was satoru drunk? Why would he message all those things to you? It wasn’t like him at all.

Sukuna stirred behind you, it ripped you out of your thoughts. 

His voice was rough with sleep, deeper than usual. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer right away. He shifted slightly, pulling his arm back and propping himself up on one elbow to look at you.

“You’re tense.”

You gave a soft, humorless laugh. “We missed rehearsal.”

His brow furrowed. “Shit. I didn’t even set an alarm.”

You shook your head, not angry. Just… overwhelmed.

“I’ve got like five texts from Ijichi,” you added. “And a few from Satoru..”

That last part came out quiet.

Sukuna didn’t say anything. You looked over your shoulder at him.

He was watching you, awake now, his expression unreadable again. His hair was mussed and falling into his eyes, and there was a crease on his cheek from the pillow.

He looked human.

“What did he say?” Sukuna asked, voice steady.

You reached for your phone again and turned it around so he could read only the first message.

Sukuna’s jaw ticked just once. “Of course.”

“He’s not wrong,” you said, softer than you meant to. “I didn’t tell him anything. I didn’t even tell him I was with you.”

“You didn’t owe him that.”

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I owed him something. A conversation. Honesty.”

Sukuna leaned back, resting against the headboard. His voice was quiet now. Careful. “Do you regret being here?”

You looked at him, and you hated that you didn’t have a quick answer.

“No,” you said eventually. “That’s not the problem.”

“What is?”

You sat up, pulling the blanket with you, suddenly too aware of your bare shoulders, of his sheets, of everything intimate and raw that had been left behind from the night before.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “With any of this.”

Sukuna nodded once, like he’d been expecting that.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” he asked.

You hesitated, then shook your head. “I don’t want to go home. I just… need to think.”

He stood up then, grabbing a hoodie from the chair in the corner and slipping it on. “You can think here.”

You glanced up.

His voice had changed, less clipped, less guarded. A little gentler.

“I’ll make something,” he said. “You eat eggs?”

You blinked, surprised. “Yeah.”

“Cool. Don’t go ghosting on me while I’m in the kitchen.”

A faint smile curved your lips. “Not planning on it.”

He disappeared down the hall, and the sound of cabinet doors and the hum of a stovetop filled the silence he left behind.

You sat there for a long moment, the smell of coffee starting to drift into the room, mixing with the warmth left in the sheets beside you.

It was quiet again.

For the first time in days, it didn’t feel like running. But how come you couldn’t stop thinking of Satoru?

dividers by @/redroud1 <3

header art by @su2kuna on twitter <3

taglist: @indiewritesxoxo @evilari111 @ssetsuka @not-aya @macchianikato @kitassecretgf @universal-s1ut @kitty-yaps @shinrjj @linaaeatsfamilies @justanothersunflowergirl @nana1344 @bbokariii @reicyberia @bxnfire

[isekyaaa]

Ngl, the reason why I post my analyses and headcanons so often is primarily for the reason that if I don't, I most definitely will forget and then will regret it heavily later when I'm trying to remember.

[shima-draws]

Apparently Facebook is the most popular social media platform?? Bro I thought Facebook died AGES ago, what is happening

[unopenablebox]

every experiment people asked about after my talk is something i'm already working on 😌

[dani-the-goblin]

.

[sapsolais]

!

[esper-aroon]

rip to me indeed. i find it so unenjoyable that it took me nearly 30 years to learn to say anything even mildly critical about any media i actually like, or even feel neutral about. and that's like 99% of the media i've ever consumed.

in other words, i hate criticism so much that it spills over into critically examining too

i find it so interesting how people act like "critically examining a piece of media" is the opposite of "enjoying that piece of media." rip to you but i actually find it really enjoyable and compelling to dissect and think through the art i engage with

[navybrat817]

Miss Navy! What if the reader joined the thunderbolts and fooled around with Bucky?

Bahaha. I have a thot, nonnie.

Not Exactly a Secret

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are really good teammates... and more.

Word Count: Over 1.1k

Warnings: Kissing, implied smut, humor, team bonding (kind of), Thunderbolts spoilers, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Using this beautiful @nixakimbo edit for reasons (you know why if you've seen Thunderbolts!). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

In hindsight, they all should've seen it coming.

You were the last to join the team and easy to get along with. You could roll with the punches and keep up with Alexei, put John in his place when he stepped out of line, sympathize with Bob, and have a blast with Yelena and Ava. Hell, you even congratulated Bucky on his six month stint as a Congressman and swore he made a difference. He admired your kindness. He admired you.

The team thought Bucky was just being extra welcoming since he always found an excuse to be around you. If you offered to cook for the team, he was beside you in the kitchen ready to help. If you wanted to spar, he dropped what he was doing to go to the training room. And if you suggested a movie night, he sat next to you with your favorite snacks ready to go and a blanket in case you got cold.

Everyone noticed that Bucky smiled more when you were around. He laughed more, too. Turned to you for advice and didn't mind staying up late to chat or exchange books. Your room also happened to be beside his and he spent a lot of time in there, more than a regular teammate should.

The recent movie night you snuggled against him and started to doze off. If anyone else had tried to snuggle with him there was a chance they'd lose a hand, but not you. “Mmm. You're so good to me, Bucky,” you said when he picked you up.

“You know me. Just being a good teammate,” he replied, holding you close the way a boyfriend would and not at all like a teammate.

Yeah, they should’ve seen it coming.

Bob stumbled upon you by accident. He had forgotten his hoodie in the common room after one of the movie nights and froze when he spotted you and Bucky making out on the couch. He stood there for a full minute torn because he wanted to get his hoodie back, but he didn't want to interrupt. He ultimately decided against it when Bucky pushed you back on the cushions. On top of his hoodie.

“I’ll just… I’ll get it tomorrow. And I’ll wash it. Yeah, yeah. I'll do that. It’s fine. Everything’s fine,” he mumbled as he went back to his room.

You were kind enough to wash it yourself the next day and offered to buy him a new one, but he declined. It was nice that you offered. And he was happy because he saw how happy you made Bucky.

Yelena caught the two of you in the training room. For a moment it looked like Bucky was trying a new move on you and she almost asked him to show her how it was done. Tilting her head after a few seconds, she realized what she was seeing wasn't a defense move at all. If there was any doubt, the grunt he let out and the moan you gave him in response when some clothes were moved aside told her very loud and clear what was happening. And it would've been rude to stay and watch.

“Oh, I'm not sparring on that mat again,” she muttered.

She did spar on it again after Bucky cleaned it twice.

Ava didn't catch the two of you doing anything. She phased in the kitchen one day while Bucky was eating and making a mess. The exasperated look on your face when you tossed him a paper towel was adorable, as was the smile you two exchanged. Bucky never looked that soft around anyone else.

“You eat pussy like that?” Ava asked to get a rise out of Bucky when another drop of sauce hit his shirt.

“Yeah, he does,” you said without skipping a beat.

Ava laughed, thinking it was a joke at first, before she caught Bucky staring you down and licking his lips. You bit your lip and Ava almost phased out of the room to give you two some privacy. You beat her to it by sauntering out of the room with a smirk, the super soldier hot on your tail and leaving his mess behind.

“Thank you for not using the counter since we eat here!” Ava called out after the two of you.

Bucky had you on the counter the next day so he could eat, too.

Alexei found the two of you in his limo tangled up in each other. You couldn't explain why you and Bucky decided to fool around in there, but you wanted to have some fun and the limo was there. And it was clean. The Red Guardian wasn't at all upset. In fact, he felt honored that the Winter Soldier wanted to have sex in his limo and blasted “Pony” to set the mood.

“That’s what I talk about!” he cheered before Yelena dragged him away.

She also decided then and there that she’d always ride in the front seat of the limo.

John was the last to know, which surprised no one. After a successful mission, he realized neither you nor Bucky had answered a question he asked. Whatever smartass comment he began died in his throat when Bucky unashamedly kissed you. There was nothing gentle or chaste about it. It was a deep, filthy kiss and he felt like a perv watching.

Bucky must've thought something similar since he gave John the finger all while he continued to kiss you and you gripped his hair.

“Are you guys…” John trailed off since the rest of the group didn't seem at all surprised by the display. “Wait, did everyone know? Was I the only one who didn't know?”

“Yes, dime store Captain America.” Ava rolled her eyes. “Everyone knew.”

Whether it was the insult of being the last to know, John looked offended. “Even Bobby? And since when did the two of them become a thing?”

Bucky broke the kiss to glare at the blonde. “Yeah, asshole, Bob knew,” he replied.

“And it wasn't really a secret. We just hadn't officially announced it,” you said, giggling when Bucky’s lips found yours again.

Apparently the display was the official announcement.

“I really did know,” Bob smiled before he cleared his throat. “I, uh, found them in the common room.”

“Training room,” Yelena said.

Ava nodded. “Kitchen.”

“Limo!” Alexei shouted, hitting his chest. “My limo.”

“Jesus Christ,” John muttered.

Bob shrugged. “I think they make a good couple.”

“Of course, you do,” Yelena said, a small smile forming on her face as you and Bucky carried on. “I think so, too.”

Yeah, lovelies. Loved the film. Not at all sorry. Catch more shenanigans with Game Nights. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lotus

a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)

summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration

word count: 4000

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.

“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”

“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”

Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?

Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”

“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.

Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.

“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”

“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”

“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.” 

“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”

Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.

“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”

“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”

“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you. 

He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you. 

As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed. 

A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around. 

Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.

“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound. 

But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”

Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”

“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”

“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”

“Bad breakup?” he guessed. 

“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”

“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”

“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”

Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom. 

Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh. 

“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained. 

“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely. 

It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt. 

You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way. 

Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become. 

As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch. 

It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch. 

You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were. 

“U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.

“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat. 

“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”

And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.

Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”

A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”

Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”

“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”

“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”

“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch. 

“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.

“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”

“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”

“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered. 

“Do you?”  

“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him. 

“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh. 

The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.

“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench. 

Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back. 

Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”

“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”

“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in. 

He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed. 

You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust. 

When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him. 

As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders. 

You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck. 

Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.

Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment. 

You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful. 

Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing. 

When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.

“Everything okay so far?”

“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own. 

His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs. 

After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.

Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.  

As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips. 

Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff. 

You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure. 

But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.

“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak. 

“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you. 

“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch. 

“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high. 

He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance. 

“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”

“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at. 

“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud. 

“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…” 

“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”

“I want–, I want–”

“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes. 

And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”

But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.         

As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp. 

Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”

When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole. 

It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself. 

Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole. 

“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom. 

“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was. 

Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy. 

It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore. 

That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy. 

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel. 

Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock. 

A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards. 

His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass. 

Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more. 

You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.

“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another. 

Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[cherrynpink]

between neighbours

pairing: perv!joshua x f!reader

genre: neighbours to lovers, smut (with a bit of plot) MDNI!

warnings: joshua is a perverttt lol, panty sniffing, perv yet still gentleman joshua (it is a fine line to walk), making out, mentions on masturbating, joshua in tank top (yes it is a warning), switch!joshua, switch!oc, dom!joshua? later, fingering, spanking, joshua is a bit mean but its ok bcs so is oc, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (DON'T do this!), he's hitting it from the back, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

w.c.: 4.6k

for more of my work, check out my masterlist!

note: joshua in black tank top save me... save me joshua in black tank top. i wrote this bcs i love joshua in tank top if u can't tell n i saw a huge lack of perv joshua rep in the community.

also posting after so long did u miss me hehe (i will cry if u say no) anywaysss my requests are open if u have something u wanna read or just talk. i am very very open to making friends here so u can message me if u want. feedback is highly appreciated hope u like this one hehehe :3

Joshua was a nice guy.

Probably the nicest guy you’ve ever come across. He had been the sweetest to you ever since you had moved into the apartment next to him. It was your first time living alone as an adult, and he had been nothing but helpful since the day you met him. Setting up all your furniture because “What are neighbours for?”, helping you sort out all your stuff from your boxes and arrange everything, convincing your landlord to install a new AC unit, making you homemade meals until your kitchen was set up; you name it and Joshua had probably done it for you. You were nervous to move to a new city where you knew no one, but he made the transition so much easier for you. You found out he was a graphic designer and often worked from home, so he was literally there at your beck and call at even the most insignificant sign of trouble. Not to forget, he wasn’t too hard on the eyes, in fact so pretty it ached your heart- the way his eyes would widen as he laughed or whenever he was confused, the way his arms would bulge out of the black tank top he wore when he was helping you set up your bed, sweat dripping down his face which made you want to take him on the very bed he was arranging right then and there. Yeah, Joshua was such a nice guy.

Or atleast that’s what you thought and what his actions said. Because yeah he’s nice, but he’s not this nice to anyone. He would never admit it, but he’s followed you around like a puppy and helped you out so much because he just wants you so fucking bad. He would stare as your ass whenever you bent down to pick up the boxes, completely unaware of Joshua ogling your ass hanging out of your shorts. It got worse for him when the AC stopped working and all you would wear were stupid low cut tank tops. His eyes would travel to your cleavage, neck wet with sweat. You had to know your tits were out, right? Still, he was somehow coping, dropping his sweatpants down and fisting his cock as soon as he got home, your Instagram post open on his phone in his other hand as he came all over his hand staring at your pictures.

He wanted to be a gentleman, he truly did; but then came that fateful Saturday. Your living room and bedroom were almost set up, and you had asked him to get the blankets and bedsheets from one of your boxes. Now, Joshua would say what happened next was through no fault of his own. Packing is stressful, and one might often put things in the wrong box or label them wrong. Sometimes things might just fall into a box and you might’ve not noticed. So it was really not his fault when he lifted one of the pink sheets and found a red material peak through the bottom. Not thinking much of it, he unfolded the sheets, only to find your delicate red lace panties fall on his feet.

A normal person who was unaffected by you would just pick them up and put them right back in the box or in your drawers, as if they hadn’t even noticed them. But, he can’t for his life explain or justify what he did next, as he picked up the lace in his hand and brought it up to his nose without a thought, sniffing the soft material as he immersed his nose in the faint vanilla scent. Make no doubt, Joshua was not usually a panty sniffing creep; in fact till this very moment the thought hadn’t even occurred to him but even though your panties were washed and clean, he could practically feel the fragrance of your cunt and the taste of your essence. Your voice calling him from the kitchen brough him back to reality and as if his rational part of the brain had stopped working, he quickly shoved them in his pockets. As soon as you both were done for the day, he rushed to his room- a very familiar scene on his bed with his boxers still on him, just barely pulled down to take his cock out as he stroked it up and down eagerly as he moaned out your name with the newest addition of his face buried in your stolen panties.

Joshua feels so so guilty. He feels so bad for stealing your panties and then wrapping the warm material around his dick and covering them in his cum, ruining them. What he feels worse about is even though he feels guilty he cannot stop because there’s something so sick in him that loves it. He loves marking them. Loves to think of marking you the same way, marking him as yours. And what he feels even worse about is that ever since that day, whenever he goes over to your apartment to help you, he ends up stealing another pair, and another, and another to the point you’ve gotten concerned over your lack of panties. He's heard you complain to your friend over the phone that maybe you forgot to pack them since so many of them were missing but poor you, unaware of the fact they’re right across your wall in your sweet neighbour’s bedside drawer.

“Joshua, I think there’s a problem with my stove.” You call out to him.

“Wait, let me check.” He says, walking towards you. “Step back a bit.”

He checks the gas valves and calls the gas company to get it checked, which results in you finding out that the pipes need to be changed.

“Y/n, this won’t be changed until tomorrow morning.” He says as calmly, booking an appointment on his phone for a handyman.

“Why can’t anything go right!” you groan out as you fall on the coach, your head in your hands. “Maybe I wasn’t ready to live alone yet.” You mumble. “Fuck! Should’ve gotten a roommate, my mom was right.”

“Hey, this happens to everyone.” He says as he sits down beside you. “When I first started living alone I literally set my house on fire the second day, not even kidding, you’re doing much better than I am.” You laugh as his words comfort you.

“I’ll make dinner at mine today, okay?”

“No way Josh, I’ll just order something. I’ve already troubled you so much I can’t-”

“C’mon it’s no fun eating alone.” He says with a pout. “I bet once you’re fully set you won’t even want to hang out with me, let me enjoy the last few days I have left cooking for you.” He teases you as you laugh.

"No way i'm leaving you alone shua, you're gonna be cooking for me all the time." You giggle.

Now Joshua had called you over for dinner so sweetly and nonchalantly, but between all this crisis management he had totally forgotten about the fact that your panties, that he stole, were littered all over his room because he wasn’t planning to bring you over tonight. But unaware Joshua just let you stroll into his apartment as you settled in there, talking to him as you “helped” him cook for the both of you. You weren’t really helping. Just letting him do all the work and whenever he did ask you to do something, you messed it up some way or the other so you just opted for sitting on the counter rocking your legs back and forth as you explained in detail the seven part Hailey Bieber stalker series from Youtube.

“Right? Okay so Selena has this ‘g’ tattoo behind her ear after her sister Gracie, and guess what! Hailey got the same-”

“You said that you would help me y/n.”

“I am helping! I’m entertaining you shua, if it wasn’t for me you’d just get bored.” You say as you shrug your arms. “Plus you don’t know about this triangle! It’s was all over my feed a few months ago, why are you such a boomer.” You whined, frustrated at the lack of his knowledge of pop culture.

“Okay, I’m sorry” he says as he adds seasonings to the pot. “Tell me what happens next, she copied her tattoo?”

“She DID copy her tattoo, but you’re so ungrateful I’m not telling you anymore.” You say, getting off the counter. Before he can protest, you say, “I’m going to the bathroom.” Heading towards his room.

As you enter the bathroom in his room, it is only natural for you to be curious as to what he has in there. You check all his cabinets and drawers. A cleanser? Tick. A shampoo that is not a 4 in 1 atrocity? A win for you. An actual moisturizer? You are very pleased. Once you get out, you examine his room. Books on his bed side table, laptop neatly shut on his work desk, a few clothes scattered on his bed but nothing too out of the ordinary. But as your eyes scan the bed, what do you see but something very familiar and very missing from your boxes under one of his shirts, before your hand is reaching down to grab it.

Now, it finally hits him. Joshua FINALLY remembers that he had left you alone his room, and if his memory serves him right, he had left a pair of your baby blue panties on his bed. Shit. Did you see it yet? Are you horrified at him? Do you hate him? Now it was time for him to panic as he turns the stove off and hurries towards his room hoping you weren’t out yet, only to find his worst fears come true as he opens the door, panties dangling from your hand as you stand in front of his bed, eyes wide and lips slightly apart, staring at him.

“Are these mine shua?” you ask innocently, even though you know the answer all too well.

“Y/n wait let me explain I-”

“How many more do you have?” not a single note of anger in your voice, but rather curiosity.

“I-” Joshua doesn’t have any words to explain his situation. How does he tell you he’s been stealing you panties and sniffing and cumming in them? He tries to find the words to not make you mad and think of him as a creep before he sees you walking towards him, standing so close to him that he can feel your breathe on his face as you reach up, your panties still bundled in your palm, and the next second you lips are on his, taking him by surprise as his eyes widen. He first stands there frozen, but is quick to keep up with you as he deepens the kiss, pushing you back with his hands on your waist. He can hear his heart beating in his ears and it’s insane how worked up you’ve gotten him over just a kiss. He feels your nails trance over his neck, making his shudder. You pull away, deliberately letting out a sensual sigh.

“Could’ve just asked me for them, why’d you steal, hmm?” you say as you lean in once again, this time slipping your tongue into his warm mouth, his hips pressing into you from under, making you gasp as you feel his hardened length against your lower abdomen.

“Not very gentleman like of you shua.” You say teasingly.

Eager to assert control over him, you push him towards the bed, your feet stumbling and stepping over his as the back of his knees meet the edge and he sits down, legs spread wide before you’re sitting in his lap, legs on either side of him. When you pull away from his lips the sight in front of you is one to see, Joshua under you in his stupid white tank top this time (another one of your favorites) that clings to him so tight you can see his chest bulging out, sweat droplets on his forehead, cheeks flushed and a fucked out look in his eyes. You get off of him as you kneel down beneath him, but not before handing him the very panties he had stolen from you. You pull his sweatpants down, watching his half hard length trapped in his boxers.

“Y/n, please.” He whimpers above you. It’s funny really, how you’re under him yet the one to hold all the control. Your lips ghost over his boxers, and he can practically feel himself burst when he opens his eyes only to see your big doe eyes in front of his trapped length, before you’re reaching down to wrap your lips around his clothed member, mouthing at it as a wet patch forms on his boxers.

“What do you do with them?” you ask with a small smile on your face as you tilt your neck slightly, eyes so innocent that if he himself wasn't there he would never believe the words coming out of your mouth.

“It’s embarrassing.” He whispers only loud enough for you to barely hear him.

“I won’t let you fuck me if you don’t tell me.” You say as you finally lower his boxers, his hips lifting to help you. “Do you sniff them?” your fingers rub his tip teasingly, spreading around the pre-cum.

“I- fuck, yes! I do.” He finally confesses.

“Mhm, what else?” you say, one hand still running along his hard length while the other reaches to play with his balls, making him moan out loud in surprise.

“Shit I- I wrap them around me and jerk off!” he says which apparently pleases you because you wrap your plush lips around his tip, sucking softly as your hand wraps around his base in a light grip and he sighs in relief; but that only lasts so long before you’re pulling away once again.

“Did you cum in them?” you ask, stopping all your ministrations and placing your hands in your lap.

“Y/n, please-”

“I won’t do anything if you don’t answer me.”

“I did, fuck please! Need your mouth.” He says and you decide not to torture him anymore, wrapping your lips completely around him as you take more than half of him in one go, and it was NOT as easy and effortless as you made it look because Joshua is bigger than you expected. You run your tongue all around, feeling the ridges and veins popping out and you might just cry out of happiness because you actually think his cock is the prettiest you’ve ever seen.

You just rest it against your tongue for a while, letting him feel the warmth before you’re pulling it out, only to deep throat him at once and oh, the sound he lets out is music to your ears. You continue to bob up and down on his dick, as it hits the back of your throat repeatedly whilst your hand pumps the part that you can’t fit, his head thrown back in pleasure and yours in a fucked-out state as his hand grab your hair a makeshift ponytail, manoeuvring your mouth on him as he pleases. His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed as the sounds of your gagging and his moaning fill the room. After a point, you give in to him, letting him use you as he pleases, like a doll- only for his pleasure, and you don’t mind it one bit.

“Fuck Y/n, you’re so much better when you shut up for once, doing so good for me.” He grunts out.

His other hand roams around the bed, finding the blue lace before he brings it up to his nose, taking in your scent. All you see when you blink up to him is his buff chest rising up and down, teeth biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood but that still isn’t enough to make control his moans. He’s shaking now, so so close to his high as his mind goes blank and he gives a particularly sharp tug at your hair, making you flood your panties beneath your denim shorts, your slick travelling down and escaping the fabric as you rub your thighs.

“Thought about this so many times, fuck!” he groans as he feels your throat close up around him. his heavy cock stretches your lips out completely as you struggle to keep him in, your jaw aching accommodating his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes as his hips increase his face, his moans signalling how close he is to his release. His breathe turns erratic and his grip in your hair tightens, as his voice breaks and his warm cum fills your mouth with no warning. He rocks your head back and forth amidst it slowly as he’s still cumming in your mouth, his seed travelling down your throat as you gag on it further, tears streaming down your face and eyes rolling back. When he’s finally spent, he pulls you off of him, a string a saliva still connects you to the head as dribbles down to your chest and you see him smirk, your panties still bunched in his palm and your tears dried on your cheeks.

“Open.” He demands with a light tap on your cheek as you open your mouth, tongue out to show him his cum smeared on his lips and tongue, and you can feel the dynamic shift already.

“Good girl, swallow.”

He pulls you up to give you a messy kiss, as if he didn’t just cum in your mouth and it kind of warms you from the inside and makes your chest flutter because even amidst this, he does act like a gentleman (as if he didn’t just literally fuck you throat seconds ago). You’re flipped onto your stomach in a second as you see him rid himself of his bottoms. One second you’re begging for him to come back to you, next he’s on top of you, pressed against you so close, hands travelling along the curve of your spine before coming down to rest against your hip, pulling you up as he forces you on your hands and knees. You hear him kneel behind, murmuring out “fuck” quietly to himself as his hands reach forward to unbutton your shorts, pulling them down just below the curve of your ass as they fall to your knees and he’s face to face with your soaked covered center.

His long fingers reach between your thighs, pushing them apart just slightly as to look at the mess you’ve made when he’s barely touched as they make contact with your slick covered soft skin. And before you know it,

smack!

his hand is pulled away from you as it comes down to hit your plush ass, your entire body stumbling forward with the impact as a loud cry erupts from your throat in surprise. He’s pulling the lace material above your cheeks, his hand rubbing it gently, soothing your skin.

“You good baby?” he asks from behind- one hand stabilizing your body with its tight grip on your hips while the other continues to caress your ass. There’s a change in his tone, voice turning raspier and deeper, much different than the Joshua you knew but not that you were complaining. And it’s embarrassing for you to explain how much wetter you felt yourself get at his actions as he brings up the hand resting on your hips up your back, grabbing your hair from behind and pulling you towards him.

“You want more, or should I stop?” he whispers, mouth resting just above your ear as he towers over you. When you turn your head to face him, you see his lust driven eyes as he looks down on you- hand still in your hair before he’s reaching down to press a kiss to your lips once again. This one much different than the way he’s kissed you before- full of impatience and hunger. You manage to moan out a “more” into the kiss as he’s pulling away and forcing your face into the pillow once again.

He's returned to slapping your behind, stopping occasionally to rub against your skin to ease the sting. Your loud cries and the sound of his hand hitting you fills the room, but what is harder for you than to bear the pain is controlling how turned on you are right now, as you feel your wetness dripping down your thighs and you’re pretty sure he sees it too, one of his hands coming down to run the tip of his finger along your slit.

“Joshua, mhm, please!” you whine out, but it seems he’s not stopped with the teasing as his fingers gently graze against your clit for second before pulling away again, continuing to play with your folds.

“Fuck, you’re dripping all over.” He murmurs to himself. “You like being spanked? That’s what got you so wet? Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen baby.” He laughs cruelly, looking at you only to see you hiding your face in the pillow out of the embarrassment.

“What? Not so bold anymore Y/n?” he teases you. “Don’t be shy baby, it’s only me.” he says, spreading out your folds with his fingers as you clench around nothing, feeling another glob of your slick leaking out, the cool air near your warmth making you shiver. A familiar warm and giddy feeling runs through your chest and makes its way down your stomach, making you flutter and moan out in surprise as you feel him spit right on your heat. Without a warning, he’s pushing 2 of his fingers in at one go- your back arching and hips pushing behind, begging for more out of his fingers. His thumb is navigating its way through your folds, making contact with your enlarged nub as you moan out his name, fingers scissoring inside you in a steady pace.

“Joshua, more!” you grunt, your arms losing strength every passing second and the band in your gut getting closer to snapping as he continues to edge you, slowing down just as he feels you getting closer to cumming every time. Your legs are probably shaking at this point, your pleads and cries filling the room every time you feel his knuckles make contact with your insides curling them just enough to make your entire body jerk at his touch. You’re breathless, gripping the sheets clenching around his fingers hard enough to crush them as your legs tremble beneath, a high-pitched loud moan leaving your throat, bucking into his hand right as you’re about-

And he stops. Fingers stopping all their movement as they’re still inside you, knuckles just resting at your opening, but that doesn’t last long either as he’s pulling them out in one go and that’s enough to break you as you feel tears wet the pillow under you, whining out and complaining to him as the loss of contact.

“Want you to cum around my cock pretty.” He justifies, voice dripping in honey as if he’s not done the filthiest things to you just seconds before. You gather the strength to lift your upper body, palms laying flat on the sheets as you turn your head to look at him teary eyed, hoping he’ll show you some mercy, only for him to lock his gaze right into yours and licking your essence off his fingers. It’s obscene really, you watch him swirl his tongue around his fingers, tasting all of you as he moans out.

“Gonna eat you next time baby.” He coos as he pulls your hips towards him by force, your back arching in reflex, pushing yourself onto him. He’s taking his length in his hand and tapping it’s head against your spent core, digits reaching to draw 8 figures on your clit, making you squeak as you hear a low deep throated chuckle from behind you. He keeps running his tip up and down your slit, teasing you till no return and all you can do is whine and beg him to give you more.

With no warning, he’s shoving his entire length inside you- giving you no time to adjust as you jerk forward, a loud cry erupting from you as he groans out due to the warm feeling. You can practically feel him throb inside you because of how deep in he is, and just as a tear is about to drop from your lashes you feel him pulling more than halfway out, only to slam right back into you until you hear his balls make contact with your cunt. Your fingers cramped from the way you’re holding onto the sheets as his hand travel up your spine and grab your hair once again.

Joshua loves your pussy. Now that he’s had it once he’s not sure he can go without it. Your tight walls are clenching around him so hard he might come right then and there. He musters up some strength in him, rocking his hips into you at a steady pace at first as to not overwhelm you with his length, but you’re apparently not satisfied, begging him “harder, more!” under him. And who was he to say no to you? he laughs with a particular strong thrust of his hips into yours, showing you no mercy. He fucks you hard, fucks you fast, fucks you like a man depraved. Because all this time he had been dreaming of your warm wet cunt wrapped around him, and now that he had you he wanted to savor every second of it.

His grip on you in tight, chants of “good girl” leaving him as you mutter out incoherent nonsense. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, overwhelmed with the pleasure that overpowers the pain of his hardness slamming inside you again and again. And he feels so close to his edge, so he chases it- skin slapping against yours as his hand on your clit speeds up, your hips rocking back to meet him instinctively. Your eyes roll back, the knot in your stomach tightening as you begin to tense up. Brows furrowed as he repeatedly hits the very spot that drives you over the edge.

“Fuck shua! Gonna- gonna cum!” you whine out. “Please baby, please- oh!” and with that you’re letting go, eyes going blank, limbs going numb as you crash head onto the pillow as you cum with a broken sob, squeezing him so hard that his hips too falter, as he paints your insides white, not a care in the world that he’s not wearing a condom. You’re probably on birth control, right? Even if you’re not, he would love to see you swell with his baby. But he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

He pulls out of you, his cum leaking down your thighs as he falls besides your completely spent body. You turn onto your back, running your hands through his hair as he kisses you, much gentler than before this time.

“You did good.” He murmurs against your lips with a slight smile looking at your tear-stained cheeks.

“Fucking pervert.” You tease him.

“What? As if you didn’t stare at my chest whenever I helped you lift boxes.” He says, hands running against your back. “I felt objectified!”

“Hey! I didn’t steal underwear!”

“Want me to beg for them next time?”

He is a nice guy after all.

[petew21-blog]

Homophobic gym teacher

I hate PE. I hate it so freaking much that I’d rather have history with Mr. Douglas every day than to run in front of Mr. Mills every day. He hates me, ever since I came out as gay at school I received mostly good feedback from others. Even my bullies were kinda nice about it. Thank God I live in the twenty first century. But one person didn’t really take It well.

I browsed through his instagram a few times. And while I looked for the perfect photo of him flexing his biceps, showing his abs or anything that would help me for my jerk off session, I found out that he was quite hardcore republican. How a person like this could get into education is beyond me.

As always I finished jerking off while looking at his regular bathroom gym photo. Man, what I would give to fuck him. Why do jerks always have the perfect body?

My phone buzzed. I snapped back into reality. Jack, my friend who is also gay, but not out yet, texted me.

“Hey, are we gonna ditch school tomorrow? I can’t hear any more of that Mills bullshit while we climb the rope”

“We’re gonna be rope climbing? Ah fuck me. He’s gonna be insufferable.”

“My thoughts exactly. So? Are we skipping school?”

“I can’t man. I gotta keep up my attendance after missing so many days thanks to Mr. Mills”

Next day, 2:29 PM

I stood next to the rope, waiting for Jake to finish his turn. Mr. Mills stood below him, screaming. Jake couldn’t get to the top. Mr. Mills told him to get down and screamed at him some more. What an asshole. It was my turn. The bell rang. “Fuck yeah. No more rope climbing for me.” My classmates, me included, turned to head to the lockers.

Mr. Mills: ”González? Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Me: ”Sir, the class is over and it’s Friday.”

Mr. Mills: ”The class is over when I say it is over. Get on the fucking rope and stop talking back at me. The rest of you can leave.”

I got close to the rope. I grabbed it and squeezed the rope between my feet. I started pulling myself up and immediately felt the pain of lifting myself. I knew I was weak, I didn’t really need some wannabe teacher slash gym freak to remind me and scream at me what a lazy piece of shit I am. I tried to ignore him. I gave myself a goal to just finish it and leave, but Mr. Mills stood directly below me to comment on my fat ass slowing me down.

I was almost at the top, a wave of happiness swept over me. “Shit, I’m gonna make it!”

And right then I slipped. And instead of locking my feet, I just let go off the rope.

THUD

“I survived. Fuck. I fell from the freaking rope. My head was hurting so hard. My head? But I thought that I fell on my back? Ahhh the pain.”

I opened my eyes. My vision was blurry from the fall. I tried blinking several times and my vision was slowly getting better. I lifted my arm to grab on my head, but as I did it didn’t feel right. I looked at my arm. It was bigger. As in full of muscles.

“What the hell?” I said out loud, but instead of my young squeaky almost too feminine voice a low baritone came out of my throat.

“How the fuck…?!” I looked to my left. There was my body getting up from the ground

Me: ”Mr. Mills?”

Mr. Mills: ”Ah you gotta be fucking kidding me?! Is that you González?”

Me: ”I… Yes. How… How did this happen?” Mr. Mills: ”Does it look like this happens to me a lot?”

Me: ”But… it’s scientifically impossible”

Mr. Mills: ”I bet this was caused by those covid vaccines to make you immigrant fags take over our lives.”

Me: ”Yeah… right. Cause everyone wants to be a stupid republican”

Mr. Mills: ”Shut your mouth or…” he was interrupted by the janitor telling us to leave so he can lock the school. Mr. Mills gave me his car keys and I gave him instructions how to find my locker. We decided to meet each other in his car and to figure out what to do after that.”

After many unsuccessful attempts I found his Chevrolet and entered the passenger’s seat. Few moments later, I realized that I’m gonna be the one driving so I switched seats and got behind the wheel for the first time in my life. His car was amazing, it smelt great and was clean. How should I even drive this thing? I don’t drive a car. I’ll get us into trouble.

I stopped overthinking about the car. “I am in my teachers body. The one who bullied me almost every day. I am an adult male.” I looked into the rearview mirror. “Fuck, I am in one of the hottest man’s body around. And I am wasting it just worrying here. I flexed and squeezed my new biceps. Fuuuck. It’s so huge. I checked if no one else was around and lifted up my shirt.

“Oh my gooood” I slammed my head into the seat. “This is so hot!”

My new abs and pecs now uncovered were the most perfect ones I have ever seen. The ones I jerk off to every night before sleep. And now it’s here. All for me.

I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Mills in my body approaching the car. And behind him ran Jake. They entered the car.

I tried to improvise: „Why is your friend here?”

Jake: „Holy shit. So it is true. Mr. Mills would never react so calm. Is that really you in there, Daniel?”

I turned at Mr. Mills who now had a very irritated face. “I didn’t say anything, he figured it out.”

Jake: „I didn’t believe it at first, but Daniel never swears like this. And your vocabulary isn’t exactly rich so I knew really quickly where I heard the phrases before. Damn, I’m good. So? What are we gonna do? We should test it out somehow. Shit, Daniel you should get drunk tonight!”

Mr. Mills: „No! There won’t be no drinking, touching or anything with my body. This is definitely temporary and we will be back by tomorrow morning.”

Me: „If you think so…”

I drove Jake and my body home. Mr. Mills had to give me a speed course of driving, but his muscle memory helped me out way more than I thought. We set up some ground rules. No drinking, no drugs, no permanent changes to our bodies, no photos and no sex. He left the car while saying something about a fag in his body, but I couldn’t care less anymore. I speeded to get to his house asap.

I didn’t really explore the house as much when I arrived. I went straight to where I thought was the bedroom and immediately started taking off my clothes. His black speedo was PACKING and getting tighter every minute, but I really wanted to make this first exploration as perfect as possible. I lifted up the shirt, touching my new hairless and fatless stomach. I flexed and sets of abs appeared. I touched every last one of them. My hand continued up to my new large pecs.

“God damn, Mr. Mills. These are some perfect man titties.” I squeezed them. They looked so tight in all the photos, but when I wasn’t flexing them, they were quite soft. Must be amazing to lay on these. I played with them some more before taking off my shirt and releasing my new hairy pits. I took a long whiff off them. “I smell like a proper MAN now!” I licked it as well, enjoying the salty taste of Mr. Mills’s pits. I looked at myself in the mirror. My new dick was hard as a rock and waited for me to take care of it.

I headed to the shower and turned on a hot water. “Your body is probably not used to a hot water, am I right, Mr. Mills? I bet you are one of those cold water freaks who bathe in the icy waters.” I hated his voice before, but right now as I was controlling it, I began to like it so much.

The water poured all over my large body, from the perfect face, over my massive pecs, hairless abs and right to my beautiful dick. “Nice dick, Mr. Mills!” I said and chuckled over the fact that I just said that.

I suddenly got a mischievous idea. I came out of the shower and texted Jake.

Jake: „I can’t believe I’m doing this. I am just squeezing Mr. Mills’s pecs and touching his abs. Can you believe it, Daniel?”

Me: „It’s wild, right? But I got an idea. Wanna make it more interesting?”

Jake: „Interesting how?”

Me: „Stop touching me you lazy fag” I said in an authoritative voice and Jake moved his hands away from me quickly.

Jake: „Why did you do that? I got scared.”

Me: „I bet you are scared, you little fag. I know you just came over so that you could jerk off you little dick and watch me enjoy myself.”

Jake: „Daniel?”

Me: „Daniel won’t save you right now. You will do as I say. Ok?”

Jake finally caught up to my roleplay scenario and started acting as well. And by the look of his face I knew that he was really into it.

Jake: „Yes, Mr. Mills. I will do whatever you say.”

I sat down on the couch watching. “I want you to admire my body and say how hot I am and how horny it makes you.”

Jake got his hands on MY body and got a bit nervous: „You have sexy abs, Mr. Mills.”

Me: „You think that’s enough? That they are just sexy?”

Jake: „I think they’re the hottest abs I have ever seen”

Me: „How about my biceps. You like them?”

Jake: „They are SO big. I want you to squeeze my head in them. I want to lick your armpit hair. I want to kiss you.”

Me: „That’s a good boy. How about you show me how good you are, you fag?”

I moved his hands over to my new hard crotch.

Jake smiled and licked his lips

I fucking love being in this body.

And I bet Jake’s ass is gonna love this body even more.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/petew21-blog/780674479706734592/homophobic-gym-teacher-part-2?source=share

[geminiwritten]

cold showers ; bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

fandom: top gun

pairing: bradley x reader

summary: you and rooster have been best friends since freshman year of college, and that's all... until you move in together and things get complicated (roommates trope)

notes: Y'ALL!!! please be gentle with me on this one! i was so damn excited and i poured so much into it, but reading it back, it feels kind of choppy and way too internal... i just love this man too so much, i feel like anything i write for him is terrible! but either way, i hope y'all enjoy and i would love some feedback!

warnings: swearing, drinking, italics, text screenshots, kind of super cheesy, and it gets REAL horny in some places (no actual smut) so 18+ ONLY please!!! (let me know if i missed anything)

word count: 9327

You’ve only just realised that this might not be such a good idea, but it’s too late. There are moving boxes scattered throughout the apartment, their tops torn open and contents half unpacked. There are empty pizza boxes and wine bottles from last night’s dinner, when – after a full day of moving heavy furniture – you treated your friends to the customary Floor Dinner that everyone must have on their first night of moving into a new place. 

You hadn’t thought about it when you signed the lease and you hadn’t thought about it last night, but right now you’re starting to realise that this could have been a very bad idea. Because Bradley Bradshaw – your best friend, your number one confidant, your ride or die – is now standing at the main door to your shared apartment, and his broad shoulders are taking up way too much of the frame. 

You’re not sure how you’ve never noticed it before, but Bradley is big – tall, broad, all lean muscle. Not over the top, but the kind of big that makes your brain short-circuit with images you absolutely should not be having. Lifting you, pinning you, holding you down. And the fact that you’re even thinking that? Yeah. That’s fucking new. 

“Are you okay?” 

You shake your head, feeling heat crawl up your neck and into your cheeks. You stop staring at your best friend like he’s an alien and return your attention to the box on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little hazy this morning.” 

“Well, lucky for you,” he drops a paper bag on the countertop, “I have just the thing.” He pulls out a four-pack of energy drinks and various packets of snacks, none of which look like suitable breakfast foods. 

“How does your body look like that when you eat like this?” The question leaves your lips before your brain has a chance to slap a warning label on it, and it hangs in the air between you and your best friend, humming like an electric current waiting for ground. 

You and Bradley have been friends for a long time, but you’ve never really talked about each other’s looks – which is normal. Because friends don’t talk about that kind of thing. Right?

He chuckles awkwardly, keeping his chin tucked into his chest as he finishes unpacking the bag, but you don’t miss the dusting of pink that blooms across his cheekbones. “I eat properly when I have to, but this morning I felt like liquid energy and twinkies.” 

You press your lips together and nod, not trusting yourself to say another word. You’ve never been awkward around Bradley, and you sure as hell aren’t going to start now – not just because you’ve suddenly noticed how attractive he is. And on the second day of living together no less. 

Fuck. 

You continue unpacking the kitchen boxes while Bradley moves into the lounge room. He lays out all the pieces of your disassembled bookshelf and starts fitting them back together like a giant puzzle. You hate yourself for not being able to look away, watching the sun spill through the high windows behind him and cast a warm glow around the shape of his body – which is a nice fucking shape. 

You need to get it together. You're gawking at your best friend, for god’s sake. Maybe you just need to get laid – it has been a while, and moving is stressful. You just need to find someone to fuck the tension out of you, and maybe then you’ll stop drooling over your best friend drilling together two pieces of chipboard. 

Then a new thought crosses your mind. Another thing you hadn’t even considered before signing the lease. 

“Bradley,” you say thoughtfully, tipping your head as you wait for him to respond. 

He blows out a breath and stands up straight, holding the power drill in his hand like it’s the beginning of a cheesy porno. “When you say my name like that, I know I’m in trouble.” 

“I think we should have some rules for...” You pause and roll your lips, trying to think for once instead of just letting random words tumble out. “We should set some rules for bringing people home.” 

He tilts his head, clearly confused. “Like, specific visiting hours, or...?” 

You stare back at him blankly. “Bringing people home to have sex.” 

“Oh.” His brows shoot up toward his hairline. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” 

“Okay.” You lean forward, bending at the hips and resting both forearms on the countertop. “First rule, if you bring someone home while the other roommate is home, you stay in your room.” 

He nods. “That’s fair.” 

“Second rule.” Your eyes slide away from his stupidly broad shoulders and toward the couch cushions piled in the corner of the lounge room. “No sex on the couch, please.” 

He lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, okay. Can I make a rule?” 

You nod, stretching across the counter to grab a piece of junk mail that you’d pulled out of the mailbox earlier this morning. 

“Third rule, only one guest at a time.” 

You freeze as you reach for the black marker tucked into your back pocket, and you look over at Bradley with wide eyes. “Just how adventurous do you think I am?” 

He shrugs his shoulders and turns his attention back to the bookshelf, but you don’t miss the way his lips curl into a little smirk. 

“Alright,” you say once you’ve finished scribbling down the first three rules. “Rule number four, no PDA.” You wait a few seconds for him to object, and when he doesn’t, you add the fourth rule to the list in front of you. 

“Fifth rule,” he says, “if your guest stays overnight, they need to be out before the other roommate is up.” 

You laugh under your breath as you write it down. “If I’m lucky, they’ll be out before I’m even awake.” 

When you look back up, Bradley is on his knees, leaning over the bookshelf with the drill aimed down. His bicep flexes against the thin fabric of his shirt, and his tan skin shines with sweat. The air in the room crackles, charged by the strange tension building inside of you, thanks to your dry spell and... your best friend. 

Fuck. You need to sort yourself out before you get into trouble. 

“Okay, rule six.” You swallow thickly. “Keep it quiet. Whether you’re with someone or on your own, just keep the noise level to a minimum.” 

Great. Now you’re thinking about your best friend touching himself alone... in the shower. Naked and wet, fisting his- 

“That’s a good one,” he says, before the sound of the drill echoes through the open plan living space once again. 

Your mouth is dry but your panties are not. You need to get out of here before you say or do something that you’ll regret. 

“Great.” You slip the cap onto the marker and stand up straight. “I’m just going to go- uh, I need to grab something from the pharmacy, so I’ll be back in half an hour. Do you need anything?” 

He looks up at you with a quizzical expression. “No, I’m good. Are you alright?” 

You force your mouth into a smile and give him a thumbs up. “Never better, roomie.” 

- 

After your pretend trip to the pharmacy, you manage to keep your lecherous staring to a minimum. You put your headphones on and bop along to music while you pack the kitchen away. Bradley busies himself with putting together the bigger pieces of furniture, and you can’t decide if you’re more grateful or frustrated by how turned on it makes you. It shouldn’t make you feel this way. He’s your best fucking friend. 

You take a few short breaks to flick through Tinder, wondering if you’ll be judged you for inviting someone over on the second night of living here. But then you remember that your bed is just a pile of slats and a mattress on the floor, so once you finish the kitchen you move into your new bedroom. 

The sun is well below the horizon by the time you finish laying out the pieces of your bed in the way you’re fairly sure they fit together. 

“Hey,” Bradley says, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “Do you want some help?” 

“Um.” You look around at the panels laid out on the floor, knowing it’ll be a thousand times easier with him giving you a hand. One of two things you can think of that would be better with him giving you a hand. “If you don’t mind.” 

He nods and surveys the room, a smirk splitting across his face as he does. “Well, we should probably start by getting some tools.” 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, I was getting there.” 

He walks back into the living room before returning a minute later with a fistful of hand tools and an easy smile etched onto his face. You still can’t believe that you’ve never noticed how handsome this man is. You used to wonder why women would fall over themselves for his attention on a night out – but now? Now you get it. Your best friend is fucking hot, and there’s no unseeing it. 

He kneels on the carpet beside you and leans forward to prop the headboard panel up against the wall. His shirt stretches across his broad back, sticking to his sweat slick skin and highlighting the way the muscles flex as he moves. 

“Do you have the instructions?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder. 

A faint smirk tugs at your lips as you shake your head. “No, that would ruin all the fun.” 

He chuckles and sits back on his heels, assessing the panels laid out around the two of you. “Alright. How hard can it be?” 

Almost an hour later, the bedframe is almost built. The footing is still loose, but after a bit of trial and error, you both realised that the bolts to secure that panel to the side supports should be the last ones tightened. Bradley is on one knee in the middle of the frame, his tongue captured between his lips as he fixes the horizontal support bar to the vertical one. 

You’re sitting right in front of him, almost too close, but you don’t want to make it awkward by scooting away when you’re supposed to be helping. Each of your legs are stretched out on either side of him as you hold the cross section of the two bars steady. 

“Here,” you say, picking up one of the bolts from the floor beside your thigh and handing it to him. His fingers brush against yours and you both linger there for just a little too long before pulling away. 

He glances up at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Careful,” his voice a little rougher than usual, but you decide to blame it on the physical demands of building furniture. “Wouldn’t want to screw this up.” 

You force a laugh, but it comes out a little breathless. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to screw it.” 

He’s still smiling, but now there’s something in his eyes. A hint of challenge, maybe. Or something more. You can’t put your finger on it. You try to return your focus to the task at hand, but now you’re hyper-aware of the space between you – or lack thereof. You feel the heat of his body too close, the rhythm of his breath too in sync with yours. 

When he leans over to grab another bolt, his face is suddenly inches from yours. You freeze, your breath hitching as you instinctively back away, but not before his gaze flicks to your lips for a split second. 

“What?” His voice is low, almost teasing. “You alright?” 

You swallow, praying he doesn’t see how your chest is rising and falling just a little too quickly. “Yeah. Fine,” you say, forcing a casual tone that you definitely don’t feel. “Just focusing.” 

But you’re not focusing on the bed. You’re focusing on him – on the way your body reacts to his proximity, the heat between you that shouldn’t be there. The reluctance to admit it lingers, but you can’t shake the thought that this... this was not a good idea. 

- 

You spend most of the night tossing and turning in the bed that Bradley helped you build, doing your best not to dwell on the fact that your best friend has somehow become the target of all your pent-up sexual frustration. 

You try scrolling through Tinder and replying to a few messages, but none of them are interesting enough to hold your attention, let alone warrant any effort. You can hear Bradley moving around in his room, just one thin wall away, and your mind wanders to what he might be doing. Probably putting his own bed together – something you should’ve offered to help with, but you honestly don’t trust yourself around him right now. 

You need sleep and then you need to get laid. 

At about 2AM, you’ve tossed and turned so much that you can no longer bear the feeling of your sheets against your skin, so you get out of bed. You pad out into the kitchen to find the list of rules you’d written on a piece of junk mail earlier and start typing them into your phone’s notes app. Then you drink a glass of water and assess the lounge room layout, trying to decide which way you want the couch to face. 

When you finally drag yourself back to bed, exhaustion takes over, and your overactive brain has no choice but to let you sleep. But even as you drift off, thoughts of Bradley slip in – thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be having – and soon your dreams are filled with things you never thought you’d be imagining about your best friend. 

You wake to the insistent buzzing of your phone that’s tucked half-beneath your pillow, but by the time you find it and hold it up to your face the caller has already hung up. You roll onto your back and rub your bleary eyes, recognising Natasha’s contact name written across the screen. She probably wants an update on how the big move is going, because she’s nosey like that. She also told you that this wasn’t a good idea, but you ignored her warning and assured it would be fine. 

Jokes on you. 

You decide to call her back later, instead opening Tinder and scrolling through the messages you ignored last night. Yeah, you’re definitely getting laid tonight. You reply to a couple of matches before going into your notes app and copying the list of rules you wrote down to send to Bradley. 

You jump out of bed and head straight for a cold shower, letting the icy water shock your system and wash away the remnants of those steamy dreams about your best friend. It’s a new day – and with any luck, tonight your sexual frustration will finally get some relief. You change into a pair of tights and an oversized shirt before exiting your room and- holy fucking shit. 

“Sorry.” Bradley smiles sheepishly from the kitchen, his hip leaned casually against the bench beneath the coffee machine as it whirs to life. “I need coffee first, and then we can go get some breakfast.” 

He’s wearing nothing but boxers. Little satin ones covered in fluffy white clouds and red airplanes – they look like he’s had them since he was fourteen, judging by the damn size of them. They’re far too tight, leaving way too little to the imagination, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s parading around in them on purpose. 

And then there’s his body. The same body you’ve seen a thousand times before. You’ve gone to the beach together, changed in front of each other, you even waxed his butt cheek once on a dare – but you’ve never looked at him like this. You can’t remember when he filled out so well, when he got so muscular, so manly. The lines and dips of his body are making your mouth water, and it feels like the connection between your brain and your mouth has short-circuited entirely. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, forcing you to stop ogling his abs and meet his eyes. 

You clear your throat and nod, scrambling to find your voice. “Y-Yeah,” you manage, cringing at how weird you sound. “Just… still waking up.” 

He nods slowly, but there’s a knowing smirk curling at his lips – teasing, almost smug. And you want to ask him what the hell he’s playing at, but it’s just Bradley. Your best friend Bradley. He’s always been a little shit like this. He’s messing with you, obviously. You just need to pull your head out of the gutter and stop acting like every look he gives you is foreplay. 

You force your heavy feet to move toward the lounge where Bradley left it yesterday evening after assembling it. This is something you can use to distract yourself until he gets dressed, focusing on the layout of your new living room is a perfect distraction from the half-naked Adonis in your kitchen. 

Seriously, what the fuck? 

Once Bradley is appropriately covered and you’ve secured a Tinder date for the evening, the rest of the day passes rather easily. You start to feel more like yourself as you unpack and settle into the new apartment, joking around with your best friend while doing your best to ignore the way his body moves – or the way his mouth curls into that silly little smirk. You never used to care about those pink lips tugging into something coy beneath his stupidly hot moustache… but now, it’s all you can think about when you slide into the Uber on your way to meet your Tinder date. 

The next week passes in much the same way. You regret taking time off work because Bradley did too, and now you’re stuck in such close quarters with him, unable to ignore the new way you’re seeing him. Your Tinder date wasn’t a total disaster, the sex was adequate, but it did nothing to ease the suffocating sexual tension that hits you every time you walk back into your apartment. It’s getting so overwhelming that you’ve finally decided to swallow your pride and ask for help. You need backup. A voice of reason. Even if you might regret it. 

When you open the door to see Natasha’s smirking face, it takes all your strength not to slam it shut again. 

“Hi,” she says, a little too brightly. “How have you been?” 

You step back and watch her carefully as she walks into the apartment. “What do you know?” 

She glances back over her shoulder. “Oh, absolutely nothing. But I have my theories.” 

You shut the door and follow her into the lounge room, grabbing your bottle of water off the kitchen counter on the way. “Theories?” 

“Yep.” She makes herself comfortable on the corner seat of the couch. “Want to hear them?” 

You sit on the other end where the chaise is and sigh out an exasperated breath. “Shoot.” 

“Did you two have a huge fight on your first night and immediately regret moving in together?” 

You shake your head. “No.” Although that would have been easier to navigate than whatever the fuck is going on. 

“Okay.” She taps a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “You seem a little frustrated, so… is Bradshaw just a terrible roommate? Like, super fucking messy and leaves his shit everywhere?” 

You shrug as you glance around the tidy apartment. “He’s actually really clean, and surprisingly considerate.” 

She rears back a little, her brows pinching. “Okay, he’s a good roommate, so why are you-” Her eyes go wide, thoughts racing behind them. “Oh, my God. Did you two kiss?” 

You flatten your lips and shake your head again. 

Her eyes go impossibly wide. “Did you sleep together?” 

Heat crawls into your cheeks, and despite your best effort to keep a straight face, Natasha has no trouble reading the embarrassment written all over it. “Oh, my God! You-” 

“We didn’t sleep together,” you say quickly. “I just-” 

“But you want to!” she exclaims, almost leaping across the couch. “Holy shit, you’re into Rooster?!” 

You cover your face with both hands, feeling the heat of your cheeks burning against your palms. “Nat, please be quiet. I don’t know how thin these walls are, and I haven’t met the neighbours yet.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” She settles back in the couch and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just- Like, this is so weird. I knew this whole situation was a bad idea, but I thought you’d end up fighting, not falling in-” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

She presses her lips together like a scolded child, but her eyes are still brimming with amusement. 

You take a deep breath and blow it out in a raspberry as you fall against the back of the lounge, mentally sorting through the chaos of the past week to figure out how to explain it as simply as possible. “It got weird on the first morning,” you start. 

Nat snorts. “You didn’t even last twenty-four hours?” 

You give her a blank, unimpressed stare. 

“Sorry, I’ll shut up.” 

You nod and continue, giving her your best rundown of the chaotic chain of events that led to your desperate call for some logical advice. To her credit, she doesn’t react nearly as dramatically as you’d expected – aside from that initial moment – and when you finally finish, you peek up at her from beneath your lashes, sheepish. “Am I insane for suddenly being attracted to my best friend?” 

She studies you carefully for a minute, but it feels more like a lifetime as you wait anxiously for her response. You don’t expect her to give you life-changing advice – you mostly just needed to rant – but you also don’t want her to chastise you or call you an idiot. You’re already confused enough about these feelings; the last thing you need is for them to be invalidated. 

“I mean,” she says, tilting her head thoughtfully, “sure, he’s objectively attractive. I can’t exactly call him ugly, because that would be a lie. But... he’s still Bradshaw.” 

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I know.” 

“Are you sure you’re not sleep-deprived and delusional from all the moving?” she asks. “Maybe you’re just wound up and need to get laid.” 

“I got laid. Hooked up with some guy from Tinder.” You sigh, glancing back up at her, a beat of hesitation before you ask, “And do you want to know what I did?” You hope she’ll say no – but deep down, you know that there isn’t a universe, parallel or otherwise, where Natasha says no to a question like that. 

She nods, and you drop your head into your hands again, mumbling into your palms. “I called out his fucking name.” 

She draws a quick, sharp breath – a gasp. “The guy from Tinder?” 

“No.” 

“Oh… my God.” Her voice is laced with amusement – definitely not mocking, but she’s clearly having the time of her life watching you squirm in your own embarrassment. 

You peak up at her from between your fingers. “I know.” 

“What did the guy say?” 

“Nothing. I’m not even sure if he noticed.” You drop your hands into your lap. “His name was Riley, so it could have sounded similar amongst all the other… noises.” 

She laughs, the sound edged with disbelief – like she’s watching some midday soap opera with a plot so ridiculous that you couldn’t possibly imagine it to be real. “Oh, my God.” 

“Would you stop saying that and give me some actual advice?” 

She shakes her head slowly. “I’m not sure I’m equipped to deal with this.” 

“Well, neither am I!” you exclaim, tipping your head back to stare at the ceiling. “I smelled his fucking laundry the other day.” 

She chokes on nothing, and you can just imagine the unhinged look in her wide brown eyes. “You what?” 

You’re already knee-deep, so you might as well dive right in and spill all your dirty little secrets. “I was moving his clothes out of the dryer,” you say, slowly tilting your head down, “so I could put mine in… and I sniffed one of his damn shirts.” 

Her mouth falls open, but no words come out. Her face is bright red, though not the same embarrassed shade of scarlet you're wearing – she looks like a kid in a fucking candy store. Your shameful confessions are making her happier than you’ve seen her in… well, ever. 

Then she bursts out laughing – the hand on your stomach, curling over, cackling kind of laughter that rings through the empty apartment. You’re almost positive your neighbours would be able to hear this, but that doesn’t bother you anymore – you just hope that Bradley doesn’t come home any time soon. 

When she finally manages to pull herself together, she wipes the moisture from the corners of her eyes and looks at you with complete earnestness. “I know I said this already but… oh, my God. I can’t believe you’re down bad for Bradshaw.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, and your brain short-circuits – something it’s been getting disturbingly good at lately. The idea of being in love with your best friend isn’t just terrifying; it’s ridiculous. You’ve been friends for far too long for this to even be a possibility. You’re so deeply entrenched in the friend zone that the thought of climbing out doesn’t even cross your mind. It isn’t a consideration. 

“I am not,” you protest. 

She raises one, challenging brow. “Then what are you?” 

“I’m…” you hesitate, feeling the crack in the floodgates holding back all your inner turmoil. “Confused! I’ve known him since freshman year of college. He’s one of my best friends – we’ve had, like, a thousand sleepovers, and up until a week ago, I would’ve confidently said that I felt more sexual tension in a funeral home than lying in a bed next to him. But now? Now it’s like I’ve been stuck in the Sahara Desert for thirty years and he’s a six-foot-tall glass of ice-cold water – and I’m pretty sure I’ll die if I don’t get a taste.” 

The apartment falls eerily silent when you finish talking, breathing like you’ve just run a marathon. Natasha just stares at you, her expression a complicated cocktail of amusement, pity, and the slightest hint of disgust. Exactly how you would’ve looked a week ago if someone had tried to tell you that Bradley Bradshaw – your best fucking friend – was suddenly the new object of your desire. You would’ve laughed in their face, faked a gag, and told them to get their head checked. 

Maybe you need to get your head checked. 

“What are you going to do?” she asks. 

“I have no fucking idea.” 

The sound of keys rattling makes you both jump, heads snapping toward the main door of the apartment just as it swings open. Bradley strolls in looking criminally hot in his gym clothes, sweat gleaming across every inch of exposed skin. It’s honestly obscene. He looks like he just walked off the set of a porn film – ‘stache and all – and you have no idea how you’re supposed to act normal when your best friend looks like that. 

“Hey,” he nods at Natasha. “I didn’t know you were coming over.” 

“We hang out a lot,” Nat says, “so you better get used to having me around.” 

Bradley lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, the kind that vibrates in his chest before curling around your spine like smoke. It’s effortless, teasing, and way too attractive for something so casual. You swear you feel it in places a laugh has no business reaching. And he’s all the way across the fucking room. 

“Do we need a new set of rules just for Phoenix’s visits?” he asks, looking at you with that familiar smirk. “Because honestly, I’d feel a lot safer if her presence came with some kind of regulation.” 

Natasha turns back to you and frowns curiously. “You have rules?” 

“Yeah.” You tear your gaze away from Bradley as he downs a bottle of water by the fridge. Even something as simple as hydrating looks sinful when he does it. “For bringing guests home.” 

“Adult guests,” Bradley clarifies from the kitchen. 

“Oh.” She snorts a laugh. “Hook ups.” She eyes you with mischief, a smirk playing at her lips as she watches you watch Bradley. 

He finishes his water and walks toward the lounge, moving past Natasha before opting to sit at the foot of the chaise where you’re perched. If the air in the apartment was warm before, it’s practically on fire now – electrically charged, humming like static before a storm. Even the look on Nat’s face says she feels it too. 

“Well.” She smacks her hands against her thighs and pushes off the lounge. “I better get going. I told Fanboy I’d take him to the blood drive.” 

“I thought you went last weekend,” Bradley states. 

“I did,” she says. “But Fanboy signed up for this weekend and he’s worried he won’t be able to drive himself home.” 

Bradley smirks again, his lips playful beneath his moustache – the very one that’s been haunting your dreams with alarming regularity. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to film him if he passes out.” 

“Twenty bucks if he passes out, or twenty bucks regardless?” 

“Regardless,” Bradley replies. 

Natasha mirrors his smirk and holds her hand out, palm up. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley stands back up and walks toward the kitchen, oblivious to the way your eyes track his ass and to Natasha’s barely contained laughter as she watches you ogle him for the second time today. After finding his wallet and handing her a crisp twenty-dollar bill, she moves toward the door, pausing to flash you a grin that can only be described as pure evil. 

“Alright, you crazy kids,” she says. “Don’t have too much fun tonight.” 

You fight the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes and shove her out the door, instead settling for your best ‘Fuck You’ scowl as she winks and steps into the hallway. Bradley calls his goodbye from the kitchen, bent over the island with his forearms resting on the countertop while he scrolls through his phone. You close the door behind her, take a deep breath through your nose, and turn to face your best friend – something you’ve been needing to remind yourself of more often lately. 

“Want to order takeout tonight?” Bradley asks, twisting his neck to look at you. “I was thinking we could have a movie night – unless you’ve got plans. How’s that guy from Tinder been?” 

You tilt your head, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of the two completely unrelated questions. You don’t even remember telling him about your Tinder date, but clearly, you must have. So why does he care how it's going? He’s never asked about your dates or flings before – not unless you brought them up first. 

“I’m not sure how he’s going,” you reply honestly. “It was more of a- uh… stress relief kind of thing than a date.” 

He chuckles again as he stands up straight, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Wow, didn’t even think to ask me first, huh?” 

Your heart leaps up into your throat, stealing all the air from your lungs as heat floods your entire body. Your face is burning, your skin feels too tight, and your pulse is a pounding drumbeat in your ears – and between your legs. The sheer audacity of his words ricochets through your brain, short-circuiting every coherent thought. You don’t know whether to slap him, laugh, or drag him straight to your bedroom… 

“I’m kidding,” he says, brows pinching. “It was just a joke. Are you okay?” 

You know exactly what you must look like – cheeks blazing, mouth hanging open, and eyes wide as saucers. You scramble for words, for your voice, for anything at all to keep yourself from gawking at your best friend like a complete idiot. 

“I-I know that,” you stammer out, before forcing a shrill and completely unconvincing laugh through your lips. 

He eyes you with a hint of doubt but doesn’t press any further. “Okay, well, if that guy didn’t do much to relieve your stress, maybe it’s time to explore... other options.” 

Then he winks and walks past you, his arm brushing against your shoulder as he does and setting the skin there on fire. You’re frozen again, you can’t breathe, and your feet are seemingly glued to the floor. Your thoughts are racing, but you can’t find the words to ask him what the fuck that was supposed to mean. All you can do is stare blankly at the spot where he just stood, the sound of the bathroom door closing and the water turning on barely registering as you stand there, completely fucking lost. 

A few hours later and after yet another cold shower – let’s be honest, you're practically living in them now – you find yourself sprawled out on the couch, aimlessly flicking through streaming channels. Bradley is in the kitchen, cracking open two beers and typing in his credit card details on the Uber Eats app to order some Thai takeout for both of you. 

“Food will be here in twenty minutes,” he says as he flops onto the lounge beside you, handing you one of the two bottles of beer. 

The silence that settles between you feels surprisingly comfortable, the kind of quiet that doesn’t demand to be filled with awkward small talk. You don’t bother making more room for him on the couch; one leg draped over the armrest as you lazily scroll through the endless options on the screen. Bradley sits beside you, almost close enough to touch but not quite. His beer rests in one hand, fingers tapping absentmindedly against the bottle.  

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks suddenly, his gaze shifting from the TV screen to you. 

You glance over at him, surprised. He’s still holding his beer, his brows furrowed slightly. 

“What? You mean because I’ve been acting like a stressed-out wreck all week?” you joke, but it doesn’t quite land like you hoped. 

Bradley shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, but also just... I don’t know. You’ve seemed a little off lately. Not like yourself.” 

You pause for a second, the air between you feeling heavier than it should. Normally, you’d brush it off with a sarcastic remark, but something about his tone makes you reconsider. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you – genuinely concerned, no teasing. 

“I just…” you hesitate, wondering how to word your thoughts without giving too much away. “I let Phoenix get in my head about us living together. She said it could end badly and mess up our friendship, but that’s the last thing I want. So, I guess I’ve been a little hyper-aware, kind of walking on eggshells, because I don’t want to mess this up.” 

Bradley nods slowly, processing your words. “I get it. But you know that’s not going to happen, right? It’s you and me – us. We are literally unshakeable. Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, I know. I’m just overthinking it – being dramatic, as usual.” 

He chuckles and nudges you with his elbow. “Without your dramatics, my life would be empty.” He pauses, unspoken thoughts racing behind his eyes. “Especially when it comes to your spectacular Tinder dates. I love hearing about those.” 

Your chest tightens – an unfamiliar feeling you’ve never before felt with your best friend. “Yeah?” You force a light laugh past your lips. “I wouldn’t exactly call them dates. And ‘spectacular’ is definitely a stretch.” 

He laughs again, and it’s easy, comfortable, like the kind of sound you’ve always known. “You’re too picky, that’s your problem,” he teases, but there’s no judgment in his tone. “Maybe you should just take a break from the whole dating thing for a while.” 

You shoot him a sideways glance. “Yeah, maybe... but then you’d be stuck with me forever. No escaping.” 

Bradley looks at you, his eyes too wide and too sincere above what should be a playful smile – but it’s more serious than that. “I think I could handle it.” 

Warmth rushes into your cheeks and you quickly avert your eyes, turning your attention back to the TV screen where you had apparently just clicked on an old action movie about navy fighter pilots who become prisoners of war. Not only do you love forcing Bradley to watch movies about the navy and insisting he point out every single inaccuracy, but this one also looks perfectly morbid. Hopefully morbid enough to keep your inappropriate thoughts at bay. 

You flash him your cheesiest grin as you hit play, then make a dramatic show of sinking comfortably into the couch cushions. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue – just gives you that annoyingly pretty little smirk before shifting his gaze to the TV. 

It isn’t long before the buzzer for the lobby door rings through the apartment. You’re barely ten minutes into the movie when you hit pause and Bradley springs up from the couch. He heads out the door to meet the delivery driver in the lobby – building rules don’t allow anyone but official USPS personnel through the main door. 

Once the door clicks shut behind him, you pull out your phone and type a text to Natasha. You tell her that – thanks to her complete lack of helpful advice – you ended up talking to Bradley, and now you’re feeling a lot better. More normal. Sure, you can objectively acknowledge that he’s attractive, but as long as you don’t blur any lines, you’re confident your friendship will stay exactly where it belongs. You were just being dramatic before. Overwhelmed. Sleep-deprived. All it took was a conversation to clear the air. 

Before he’s even back, you push yourself off the lounge and wander into the kitchen. You start pulling open drawers, grabbing cutlery and plates, when the scent of pad Thai hits you like a warm hug. Suddenly, Bradley is beside you – having somehow snuck back into the apartment without a sound – unpacking containers and setting them on the counter with that effortless ease that only makes him more frustratingly attractive. 

You tell yourself not to look, not to care – but your eyes have a mind of their own. They watch him as he opens another container, catching the flex of his forearm, the concentration on his face, the way his tongue pokes out slightly at the corner of his mouth. God, you’re hopeless. You turn back to the drawer and focus on pulling out chopsticks, pretending like you’re totally unaffected.  

“Napkins?” he asks. 

“Top cupboard,” you reply. 

Before you can step aside, he’s there – close, impossibly close. His chest brushes against your back as he reaches up, trapping you between his body and the counter. You freeze, breath catching in your throat, hand still in the drawer. The scent of him – clean sweat and something sharp like cedar – wraps around you like a vice. 

And then- 

Oh, fuck. 

His hips shift, and it’s not subtle. He presses against you, slow and deliberate, the hard line of him settling against the curve of your ass. There’s no mistaking it – no accidental contact or innocent mistake. He lingers for a beat too long, the heat of him searing through your thin lounge shorts like a warning – or a promise. 

Your fingers curl around the counter edge as a quiet gasp slips past your lips. He still hasn’t moved. You should say something. Step away. Do anything but melt like butter beneath him. 

Instead, you stay rooted, your whole body pulsing with heat, electricity zipping down your spine as his breath grazes the shell of your ear. “Just needed the napkins,” he murmurs, voice rough, low, amused. 

You want to turn around and call him a liar – or better yet, grab a fistful of his t-shirt and pull his lips down to yours. But you can't. You're too much of a coward to do anything but let out a high-pitched, breathy laugh – the most unconvincing laugh in the history of fake laughs. 

The smirk on his lips is anything but innocent as he spoons rice into one of the bowls, the motion slow and deliberate. It makes your pulse stutter, and your mind goes into overdrive, swirling with questions you can’t even begin to articulate. You’re so off-balance, you can’t even bring yourself to fix your own plate, not until he’s across the living room and settled comfortably on the couch – far enough away that you don’t feel like you might spontaneously combust. This is a very dangerous game. One you didn’t even know you were playing… until now. 

Every thought you’d had a mere five minutes ago about being in control of this situation has flown right out the window by the time you sink back onto the couch. Bradley looks perfectly content as he spoons mouthfuls of Thai food into his mouth – but you know better. There’s something else going on behind those brown eyes, something unreadable, because he’s pretending to be far too invested in a movie you know he doesn’t give a damn about. 

Once you’ve both cleared your plates, Bradley packs the leftovers into the fridge and hands you another beer like it’s no big deal – like he didn’t just grind up on you in the kitchen like you’re in some slow-burn porno. You take it with a tight smile and attempt to sink even further into to the couch, pretending the bottle is far more interesting than the memory seared into your brain. The air crackles between you, heavy with a tension that definitely doesn’t feel platonic. You keep your eyes glued to the screen like it’s your lifeline, pretending you’re totally invested in the movie that you can’t even remember the name of. 

Two painstaking hours crawl by, and you barely exchange more than a handful of words. You don’t ask Bradley to clarify any of the movie’s questionable navy facts, and he doesn’t offer up his usual know-it-all commentary – even when it’s painfully obvious that what just happened on screen is pure Hollywood fiction. The tension between you is palpable, and you can both acutely feel the electric aftermath of him pressing his half-hard cock into your ass. 

The second the screen fades to black and the credits start to roll, you spring up from the couch. “I’m going to head to bed. I’m super tired.” You don’t even try to make your shrill voice sound more convincing. It’s fucking awkward right now and you both know it. 

“Yeah, me too,” Bradley says, keeping his eyes glued to the TV screen. 

You drop your empty beer bottle into the recycling bin and head toward your bedroom door. “Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

You shut the door behind you and lean against it as if you’re in some angsty teen romcom. You let your head fall back with a soft thud and squeeze your eyes shut, desperately trying to recall a time when Bradley’s warmth, his scent, and that damn smile didn’t make your heart feel like it was doing a full-on marathon. When it was just friendship. You try to laugh it off, but it sounds a lot like a strangled gasp. 

You give yourself a few minutes to wallow in self-pity before dragging your phone up in front of your face to check the time. It’s barely 9PM. And it’s Saturday. You doubt that either of you will be falling asleep anytime soon – but there’s no way you can go back out there. Not after that. You’ll just have to find something to do in your room that doesn’t involve thinking about your best friend. Preferably something mind-numbing. Or holy. 

You crawl onto your bed and flip open your laptop, browsing through a few streaming apps before landing on an old comedy you’ve watched a thousand times before. You’re not in the mood for any surprises – you want something familiar, something predictable. You’ve had more than enough confusion for one night. 

But no matter how many times you toss and turn and fluff your pillows, your mind refuses to cooperate. There’s no escaping the searing memory of what had happened in the kitchen, the way he’d trapped you against the counter. The feel of his breath ghosting over your neck still tingles down your spine. And the way his hips had pressed into you – slow, deliberate, almost like he knew exactly what he was doing. It has your thoughts spiralling into places you shouldn’t be going. Especially not alone. Especially not about your best friend. 

There’s only one thing you can think of to ease the ache building between your legs, but it feels wrong. The thought of touching yourself while thinking about your best friend sends a wave of guilt through your body. You've managed to distract yourself every other time this thought has popped up over the last week, pulled yourself away just before it took hold – but not tonight. Tonight, you’re stuck, trapped on your speeding train of thought, headed straight for the flashing neon sign that reads: Masturbate to Your Best Friend – Go Ahead, I Dare You. 

“Fine,” you groan out, snapping your laptop shut and rolling over toward your bedside table. 

So much for holy. 

Your hands are practically trembling as you pull out your vibrator and drop it on the bed. You twist toward your headboard and prop your pillows up before settling back against them – then you pick up your phone and open a new web browser. If you watch porn, then that means you’re not totally thinking about Bradley while doing what you’re about to do. Right? 

A knock at the door startles you, and you quickly drop your phone and jump off the bed. Frustration bubbles in your gut, spreading through your whole body and making you more than a little agitated by your best friend who seems to be thoroughly enjoying giving you whiplash. 

You yank the door open to see him standing there – fucking shirtless – wearing a hesitant, apologetic little smile. 

“I – uh – wanted to talk about earlier…” His voice is a little strained, and you’re suddenly aware of how close he is, filling the doorway with his broad shoulders and deliciously naked upper body. 

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms over your chest. “About what? The part where you decided to get all up in my personal space and make it weird?” 

He winces. “Yeah, about that.” His gaze flits to the bed behind you for a second, where your vibrator is sitting in full view. His mouth opens, then shuts, and suddenly he's biting back a very unapologetic grin. 

You bite your lip, ignoring the immediate burning in your cheeks. “Something caught your eye?” 

Bradley steps forward, forcing you further into your room, before shutting the door behind him. His eyes are glued to the bed, but there’s a heat building in his gaze, and you feel it deep in your stomach. 

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly trying not to stare at the thing on the bed, but then, with a quick, almost predatory glance at you, he takes another step forward. “Yeah, well, I was going to apologize, but now I’m not so sure what for.” He’s close enough that you can feel his breath against your cheek, but your feet are stuck, you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. 

You smirk and tip your head, faking a bravado that you definitely don’t feel. “Oh? So, you’re not sorry for grinding against me in the kitchen?” Your voice is a lot stronger than you feel, and for that, you’re grateful. 

Bradley stiffens, then shrugs, trying – and failing – to appear nonchalant. “Maybe I enjoyed it a little more than I should have,” he mutters, his voice dropping low. 

Your heart skips a beat. “What?” 

Before you can say another word, Bradley is suddenly right there, his hand gripping your wrist and pulling your body right up against his, making your breath hitch. “What if I’m really sorry?” His voice is playful now, but there’s an edge of something else – something hotter – lingering in his words. 

But you don’t get the chance to ask him what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, because his lips crash onto yours without warning. For a heartbeat, you're frozen – shocked and unsure – before instinct takes over and you melt into him. Your hands find his chest, fingers splaying across warm skin, and you swear you can feel his heart racing beneath your palms. He tastes like beer and something dangerously addictive, something that’s always been there, just beneath the surface, waiting. Your hands drift lower before you can stop them, tracing the curve of muscle and heat, before stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants – as if that’s the line. This elastic band of grey material is the physical embodiment of the line the divides friendship from something more. 

Then he pulls away just as suddenly as he had kissed you, breathless and wide-eyed. He looks wrecked – like his thoughts are spiralling, torn between a dozen different emotions you can’t quite name. 

“Bradley, I-” You start to speak but you’re not actually sure you have anything to say. 

Your whole body is on fire, every nerve ending singed as fire laps and dances across your skin. You want him to kiss you again and again – you never want him to stop. You have no idea how you’ve gone this long without tasting his lips, his tongue, but now you know you can’t live without it. You need him more than you need oxygen but... he’s your best friend. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you mutter, slowly removing your hands from the waistband of his sweatpants. 

He blinks a couple of times and frowns, tilting his head as he regards you with curiosity. “Why?” 

You swallow thickly on the emotion building in your throat, determined not to cry about the fact that you’re in love with your best friend. And only just fucking realised it. 

“For everything,” you say. “This past week, moving in together, staring at you like you’re my next fucking meal. We’re best friends, and I meant it when I said I don’t want to ruin it. I-I know this isn’t want best friends do, but I’m willing to forget about it if-” 

“I’m not,” he interrupts, his expression serious. “I’m never going to forget about the moment when I finally sacked up and kissed you.” 

Your breath catches and you can feel the bridge of your nose starting to sting. “Finally?” 

He lets out a dry, humourless chuckle, rubbing a hand up the side of his neck. “Yeah. Finally. Because I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I’m not even sure when it started – just that it was long before you started looking at me like that.” He gestures toward your face, where whatever expression you’re wearing must scream hunger. 

You both let out breathless little laughs, and then you press your lips together and wait for him to finish his big, dramatic speech. 

“I was perfectly happy being your best friend, and I still will be if you decide that that’s all you want from me. I swear, I’m not saying this to mess anything up. But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel more.” His eyes are full of earnest, and it makes your chest ache. “Because I wake up every fucking day thinking about you, and I fall asleep wondering if you’re thinking about me too. I know we’ve always had this easy rhythm between us, but lately it’s been… different. And I don’t think that’s just in my head.” 

You can feel your pulse thrumming across every inch of your body, and it takes all the self-control you have not to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him senseless. 

“What happened in the kitchen – that wasn’t nothing.” A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “That was a moment I’ve been trying not to want for way too long. And if there’s even a chance you want this too, then I’m all in. But if not… I’ll still be here. I’d rather be your best friend forever than risk losing you. But I had to be honest – because I’m in love with you. And I think maybe you’re in love with me too.” 

His chest rises and falls quickly as he finishes, and all you can do is stare up at the face you know better than any other, wondering how you’ve never truly seen him before. “Bradley, I’m-” 

“I mean, come on,” he says, his lips curling into a full-blown smirk beneath that damn moustache, “who goes on that many Tinder dates but never ends up with a boyfriend?” 

You frown, attempting to look indignant but deep down, you know you're just gazing at him like a fool in love. “Is this how you ask girls out, by insulting them first?” 

He chuckles again, but this time it’s nervous. “Did it work?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, trying to ignore the way your heart is rioting within your chest – beating so hard, you’re sure it’s about to break a rib. “Yeah,” you sigh, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants to pull him closer again. “It worked.” 

The grin that splits across his face is blinding, but you barely have time to appreciate it before his hands are on your face, pulling you toward him. His lips crash against yours with a desperate urgency, and it’s like everything you’ve ever felt about him floods to the surface. Your hands slide up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens, fierce and unrestrained. The taste of him is intoxicating, as if you’ve been starved for this connection, for him. Your heart races at a dangerous pace as you lose yourself in the heat, the spark between you crackling louder than any words you could’ve spoken. It’s messy, it’s raw, but it’s everything you’ve been craving and more. 

It’s only when your lungs start to burn for air that he pulls back, his breath ragged as he meets your gaze. “Now I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.” 

You giggle, the sound soft and giddy. “You’re going to need to apologize better than that.” 

He grins, pulling you closer, and in one swift motion, he’s pressing your back against the wall, his body flush against yours. “Oh, I can do better,” he says, lips ghosting over your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “But you’re going to have to be patient.” 

You laugh again, breathlessly, but the sound quickly dies in your throat as his lips find yours again – even more demanding this time – his hands sliding down your sides with a confidence that has your heart racing. He’s moving against you, not in a hurry but with an urgency that you can’t help but match. 

“Bradley,” you murmur against his lips, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “I am in love with you too.” 

His eyes darken, and the playful grin on his lips shifts into something far more dangerous. The teasing is gone – replaced by an intense, smouldering need that matches your own. His gaze locks onto yours, raw and unguarded, and in that moment, every inch of you ignites with desire. He’s all heat and need now, and you’re right there with him, every inch of you aching with want. And love. 

END.

[moon7jay]

ㄴ CHERRY🍒 ㄱ : Lee Heeseung

pairing : pervert!heeseung x virgin!reader

cheeries to pop this semester : Y/N (Heeseung's pick)

Warnings : toxic heeseung, manipulation, coercion, morally gray characters, dub con, infidelity, angst, filthy smut, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, body image issues, body shaming, family issues (it gets heavy), unprotected sex, cum eating, violence, dacryphilia.

Wc : 23k+

a/n : IT'S FINALLY HERE OMG, this is my first full length fic on here and I really put my all into it, please reblog and leave feedbacks, it's really really important for me, I cherish all of your words so much<3

!!!!!!! READ PREVIEW FIRST !!!!!!!!

You're quite literally the most stuck up thing Heeseung has ever laid his eyes on. It’s the way you stick out like a sore thumb; Your ponytail is meticulously braided, the grandma skirt that you chose to wear cascades down, stopping just beneath your knees in a habitual fashion and your pressed pink silk blouse is impeccably buttoned up to the collar, not one inch of extra skin in sight.

The book clutched tightly against your chest ties your entire look of “austere sophistication” together.

"Microprocessors", the title reads. Pfft. Typical of you. Only you can clutch onto such a demonic book like it is some quality literature. Heeseung nearly fights the urge to scoff.

You're peak virgin demonstration if Heeseung’s ever seen one. Your embodiment of purity is unparalleled, and it feels like a personal attack on his masculinity that he hasn't been able to get you under him yet. Keyword : yet. 

As he backs you up against the wall, your eyes downcast and your free hand nervously fiddling with the button of your blouse, he thinks you look pathetic. You exude an air of pitiful vulnerability, and it ignites a primal desire within him to consume you entirely.

You're nervous and it’s palpable. He can see it in the way you don't even meet his eyes, refusing to face him at all. The blush adorning the apple of your cheeks is adorable; fuck, you're cute. And Heeseung doesn't like cute things. But something about you makes you the exception to his usual preferences. Your innocence only provokes him more, acting as a catalyst, intensifying his desire to unleash all his darkest fantasies on your inexperienced body. He wants to explore you, peel off your layers and dive in deep like no one has ever done before. This need, this innate urge to taint you; it drives him absolutely feral.

"Did you watch the video I sent you last night?" he asks, unable to stop himself from leaning into your space, taking a deep whiff of your vanilla perfume. You even smell like a virgin. Fresh and untainted.  And, oh so tempting. 

Your head shakes meekly, but the discreet way you bite your lower lip tells him that you did watch it. Fuck yeah. He was high and horny when he recorded that nut video. Pressing send wasn’t on his agenda but his head was filled with the sinful thoughts of you and your pretty pink lips, and what better way to testify his desire to you than making you see how he looks in throes of pleasure, chanting your name like a literal dog in heat.

You yelp when his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer to himself. God, you feel good against him.

He nuzzles his nose into your warm cheek while your tiny fist makes contact with his chest "let-let go" you squeak out and it only makes him chuckle in amusement. You're so fucking cute. 

"you liked it baby? Bet you liked how I stroked my dick nice and slow, just for you" He watches in glee as the red in your cheeks spreads all the way down to your neck. He loves how responsive you are, loves how even the littlest of words make you falter in front of him, like a frail flower caught in a sudden gust of wind. Then you look up, and Heeseung feels his breath leaving his chest, as if the air has been vacuumed from his lungs .Your big, captivating eyes meet his dark ones and he can't help but let his perverse curiosity take over his sick mind. He wonders how your pretty orbs look when you cry. 

Scratch that. He wants to see you cry. 

What makes this thought more unsettling is that fact that Heeseung isn't apposed to seeing you cry in pain. As long he gets to see your eyes brimming with tears , he cannot give less of a fuck about their source. He'll fuck you missionary, Heeseung decides, staring deep into your eyes while he slides deep inside your tight little pussy. His cock chubs up at the thought alone. 

"you c-can''t send me stuff like that, it's inappropriate" you mumble shyly. He snickers and squeezes the fat of your waist, making another pathetic squeak to leave your mouth. 

"What can I do darling, there's not one appropriate thought in my head when it comes to you. wanna do so many inappropriate things to you, you’ll let me won’t you?" He whisper asks, and watches how your eyes struggle to maintain eye contact before you succumb to your shyness, choosing to look down instead.

 

"Heeseung, man, it’s time to go " Jake's panicked voice interrupts the filthy words he was about to mutter in your ears again. He turns his head slightly towards the entrance of the hall and sees Jake's brown mop of hair, rustling right outside. Heeseung sighs and turns back to face you. 

"Looks like we'll have to cut our fun short, you'll wait for my call tonight won't you baby? wanna hear your voice when I cum" He tells you, reveling in the way you only curl into yourself at his words, chewing your bottom lip raw. Fuck he wants to kiss the fuck out of you. But he can't. Not yet. Heeseung is aware of the boundaries he’s been crossing by touching you and sending you intimate stuff without your consent, and he doesn't want to push it, not so fast.He lets go of your body reluctantly and winks at you before making his way out of the hall. Jake's frantic eyes meet his once he's outside, and he rolls his eyes, already sensing an incoming lecture about morals and respect. 

"I'm never gonna be your guard dog again, it's risky fucking business" Jake spits,brows furrowed in distress. Heeseung merely shakes his head at him "you won't get it" he mumbles as he walks ahead, leaving Jake to run to catch up to him

"Yeah, I don't see the fun in being suspended, but hey, maybe that's just me" Jake replies sarcastically ,making Heeseung give him “the” look. "Dramatic much?" He asks, rounding the corner to the cafeteria and making his way inside. 

"I'm being dramatic? You're the one risking your reputation for some pussy, we can both be in jail for sexual harassment". Heeseung tunes out his friend's baseless rant and plops onto his designated seat. Jake slumps down right next to him. 

"Man I'm just saying, that if she ever decides to go to the dean about this, your messages will be proof enough to land you in big trouble" Jake explains. “and me too because you drag me into every unethical thing like the good friend that you are” he adds, sarcasm dripping from his tone, and Heeseung wonders when Jake fell victim to the sassy men apocalypse. 

But you won't, you love the chase as much as he does, he can see it in your eyes, Heeseung wants to say, but he doesn’t, choosing to stare at you instead. His eyes trace the movement of your figure when you enter the cafeteria sometime later. You're still hugging the book to your chest, making your way to the seat that's the farthest away from everyone else, as always. Your skirt makes his hands itch, he wants to know what lies underneath so fucking badly. He wonders if you know the effect that your modesty has on him, wonders if you know that your body being covered from head to toe gives more space for fantasy and yearning than any naked girl ever could.

"Stare any longer and your eyeballs might fall out of their sockets" Sunghoon’s berating voice brings his attention back to the table. He was so lost in you that he didn't notice sunghoon flopping down in the seat right across from him, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it unceremoniously on the table. 

"She's gonna be the death of me" Heeseung bemoans, running an exasperated hand over his face. Sunghoon laughs and kicks his leg under the table. 

"She already saw her name in that list that day, she knows what you want, and I don't think she'll let you anywhere near her anytime soon". Jake snorts, masking it with a cough when Heeseung shoots a glare in his direction.

He looks over at you again, finding the way you fiddle with your pen oddly erotic. He thinks he might be losing his goddamn mind, because the way he jerked off right after you angrily threw the “cherries to pop this semester” list on his face and stormed off , was shameful to say the least. That was the first time he had seen pure heat and raw emotion in your eyes, and damn you looked sexy as hell when you were angry. 

"She won't be a virgin by the end of this semester, write it down" Heeseung challenges, meeting Sunghoon's eyes. His friend only shrugs in response and turns around to look at you over his shoulder. 

"Sure, but by the looks of it, you won't be the one doing the honors" Jake snorts again , but Heeseung doesn't spare him a glance this time, his entire attention pivoted to the raven haired boy making his way over to your table. Heeseung doesn't like the way your eyes light up and you instantly sit up straighter in your seat, fixing your hair as if looking to impress. He scoffs. Loudly. Fucking park jongseong. 

"Does she really find that dweeb attractive?" He can't help but ask, jaw clenching when he sees you blushing, genuinely blushing and smiling at someone who's not him. 

"I dunno man, girls love that whole nerdy gentleman thing jay's got going on, some bullshit about being a green flag and all" Sunghoon supplies.

"They're friends too, lover boy's got game" Jake adds, smiling cheekily when Heeseung shoots him a dark look, yet again. 

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

You're in a trance like state when you walk back home. With the whole hall incident with Heeseung, and jay approaching you at lunch, today doesn’t seem real, as if belonging to a different reality altogether.

What you feel for Heeseung isn't something that you can describe in words. He.. He harasses you. He touches you and grabs you and gropes you, but within limits. His actions lie in a murky territory, perplexing the norms of acceptability, and yet, you only yearn more. does that make sense? Maybe it doesn't to normal people, but in your touch starved brain, it perfectly makes sense. Some days you hate him and some days you crave him, always oscillating between the extremes of loathing and longing. You suppose that's because he's been the only source of thrill amidst the barren landscape of your existence for a very long time. He excites you, he flusters you, but ignites flames beneath your breastbone with mere words. His gaze unnerves you and yet, you can't bring yourself to push him away. Some would call you crazy, and you won't have any convincing arguments to defend yourself.

You have been a little desperate all your life, desperate for someone to want you, desperate for someone to see you, a ceaseless yearning for recognition, for acknowledgement of your existence and you're not ashamed to admit it. After all, how far can you lie about the very thing etched into your bones and skin? And to what end?

More, more, more, the intense craving, an insatiable hunger for it defined your very being. You were an unattractive child and grew up into an even more unappealing adult , at least that's what your mother used to tell you before she eventually passed away. Her echoes of criticism resonated through your subconscious, shaping you as a mirror of her own insecurities.

That would explain why you can't meet your own eyes in the mirror, and crave attention like a drug, seeking solace in the fleeting attention Heeseung bestows upon you. He's akin to a drug that leaves you high and delusional for a while, intoxicating you with fleeting moments of desirability.

You aren't stupid though, you harbor no illusions regarding his intentions . You know what he wants from you, you are aware that you as a person don't mean a thing to him, he just wants to take your virginity and flaunt it around like a badge of peak male prowess or something, you're just another challenge to him, reduced to a mere conquest for his vanity. But you haven't felt like a person in so long, you don't think you are in any position to make demands.

When you've been parched long enough, when the thirst reaches fever pitch, threatening to push you over the verge of insanity; the yearning for satisfaction eclipses the rationality of self preservation. The moment of brief satiation held such a twisted appeal, that you were willing to embrace pain and self destruction if it came along with a fleeting sense of fulfillment. The need for validation clouds your judgement, and you become nothing but a mindless puppet of your desires.

That might also explain why your crush on park jongseong is still alive after being brutally rejected in the first semester. Jay and you had developed a friendship really quickly at the very beginning of college, but both of you had never really talked outside of the university hackathons and coding competitions. His knowledge was what drew you to him, and the way he was able to come up with solutions to the most complex problems while you were fighting for your life, it just left you with no choice but to watch him with heart eyes. He was always polite to you too, and what were you if not a sucker for gentle and soft spoken men. 

He stopped talking to you after you confessed though, not completely because you still had to work on projects together, but conversations became more one sided and short, and so eventually, you just grew apart.

But ever since you got grouped together for the Cp techathon, he has started acting different; there’s so many lingering touches and subtle flirty glances that sometimes you’re sure you’re imagining everything in your head. Maybe you should get checked out for maladaptive daydreaming. Just a suggestion.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you reach the curb of your house and don't see your dad's car parked inside. You breathe out a sigh of relief at the sight and proceed to make your way to your neighbor’s house. Suzy, your 60 year old neighbor, might be the only good thing going on for you. As you ring her door bell, you can't help but feel excited at the prospect of seeing your brother after an entirety of 2 whole weeks. Pitter patter of slippers approaches the door , and Suzy's wrinkled face greets you with a warm smile, as if she was already expecting you. 

"Hi" you smile, and she motions behind her, at the loud chatter of your brother. 

"Jihoon has not stopped asking for you for a second" She says , and you can't help but laugh as you make your way inside. 

The four year old stops talking to his toys as soon as he sees you, his blue orbs staring at you for a whole minute in amazement, and then , as if snapping out of a trance, he sprints towards you at the speed of lightening. "Y/n! " he squeals.

You giggle when he tackles you with a hug, sighing in contentment at finally feeling him so close. You're hit with a sudden urge to cry, feeling his tiny arms wrap around your neck, being away from him never gets easy no matter how many times you have done it. You coo as he tells you how much he missed you, burying his tiny frame further into your chest. You press several kisses to his face and tell him you missed him just as much. 

"Will you be taking him home today?" Suzy asks, coming over to sit down on the couch in front of you. You caress the back of jihoon's head, rocking him back and forth in your embrace, and meet her eyes, nodding a little. "Dad won't be home for a few weeks, hopefully, his car isn't there" you tell her. She nods in understanding and pats your arm, letting you know with her eyes, that she'll be here if you need her. 

You're grateful for her, she's the only person you can entrust your little brother with when things start to get bad at home. On the days your dad decides to get shit faced and break everything in the house, succumbing to bouts of inebriation, you're grateful that you can keep jihoon away from the violence. You honestly don't know what you would do without Suzy, the only steadfast refuge from the chaos that is your life. In some way, you are aware that having jihoon over alleviates her loneliness too, fulfilling her own needs of companionship that she deeply craves in her old age.

 

Occasionally, you're hit with a wave of inevitable jealousy at jihoon’s sheltered innocence, wishing that someone had kept you away too; from the violence and the pain. But you guess you were meant to be the protector instead of the protected, healing your inner child every time you see jihoon smiling brighter than the sun. If you had to live through all the suffering again , just to preserve and shelter his infectious smile, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

Suzy hands you a box of home made food when you make your way outside. "I promise to be back for you in a few hours sweetie, you will behave right?" you coo at jihoon's snotty, red nose as he clings onto your leg, begging you to take him with you. You sigh and watch in helplessness as Suzy picks him up in her arms, shushing him down so you can leave. It never gets easier.

Returning home, you dodge the broken pieces of glass and frames, quickly get out of your college attire, throwing on a pair of worn out jeans and a discolored top. There's still an hour for you to be at your part time job , and so you start cleaning the house instead. You don't know why you bother, to be honest, but there's an innate need that craves normalcy. When the house is clean, that means everything is going to be okay. Cleaning serves as a ritual of order amidst chaos, offering a sense of control amidst uncertainty.

Your shift at the cafe ends in a daze, countless customers come in and go out, some rude, some decent but you have learnt to take everything in a stride now. First month you had started working this job, you were a crying mess after the end of almost every shift, your sensitive little heart unable to comprehend why people were so rude. However, just like everything else in your life, you adapted to the demands of the job pretty quickly. As you stare at the now almost deserted cafe, save for a handful of students engrossed in their laptops, you pray that no one else comes in. Fatigue weighs heavily upon you, you’re exhausted out of your mind and just want to get out of here as soon as you can. Yet, as the familiar chime of the entrance bell resounds, signaling the arrival of yet another customer, you resign yourself to another interaction.

Your head snaps towards the door and your jaw quite literally falls to the floor. For as long as you have worked here, you've never run into any of your classmates. However, today out of all days, when you look like the wall mart version of the walking dead, park fucking jongseong is here. Because of course he is, your life has to be a social experiment. 

You pull yourself together when you realize that he's smiling at you, and you aren't smiling back. "Hi" you squeak out, fairly sure that you sounded pathetic. He grins at your flustered state, and leans closer to you on the counter. 

"Hi" He whispers back, your heart beating faster at the look he's giving you. You stare at his perfectly parted raven hairs and mentally pass out when he fiddles with his lip ring. 

"Um-so- what can i get you?" You stutter out, finally coming to your senses and realizing that you have a job. His eyes travel down to your chest , and he leans further into your personal space, his expensive cologne filling up your senses. 

"I'll take you" He replies smoothly.

"I-, what-you huh" you splutter, not quite trusting your own ears. There's no way Jay is flirting with you right now. The crush that you've harbored for the boy blooms in full glory as he continues to smile at you, a suggestive glint in his eyes. His smile is so damn pretty.

 

"I'm kidding pretty girl, I just saw you from across the street and thought I'd say hi, and ask if you need a ride back home" He explains. Your lips tug into a shy smile at the nickname, and you peek outside to see his gray Volkswagen parked across the street. Oh wow, Jay thinks you're pretty AND he wants to give you a ride back home. Why does that sound so familiar? You’re pretty sure you saw this same scenario playing out in one of your lovesick dreams last week.

"Oh-um- i don't wanna cause you any trouble" you mumble , hoping that he doesn't see the way your back is ramrod straight all of a sudden. You never really prepared yourself for the possibility of him , or anyone for that matter, wanting to drop you at your house. You're not ashamed of your neighborhood or the life that you live, but you despise the looks of judgement and pity more. You have managed to maintain this facade of a properly put together person for so long in college, and it has saved you so much mental torture that you know would ensue once everyone gets to know about your humble abode, and how your scholarship is the only reason you’re able to afford your college. 

"come on sweetheart, would I really walk all the way across the street if I really didn't wanna see you?" He asks, fiddling with his lip ring again. If you didn't know any better, you would say he looks sort of nervous. But why would anyone be nervous of you. Of all people. 

You nod meekly and mumble a quick "my shift gets over in 5 minutes", trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jay wanted to see you. HE wanted to see YOU. Jay winks at you and makes his way outside. You follow him with your eyes as he crosses the street and goes back inside his car, waiting for you. 

HE'S WAITING FOR YOU. What on god’s green earth. 

Seeing that there's only one customer left, you hurriedly make your way to the ladies toilet and wash your face, trying to get rid of the tiredness and grime off of it. What if he kisses you? Your own delusion makes you laugh. You do have some nerve at coming up with such insane scenarios in your head. He's just being nice, and here you are, hearing wedding bells. 

You reapply your lip balm and take off the apron you were adorning over your tee. You look okay. Well. There's not much you can do in the current situation anyway. You do hope that he overlooks how unkempt you look compared to your college appearance. Should you untie your hairs? But, wouldn't that be too much? He just saw you with a ponytail... fuck it, it's like a once in a lifetime opportunity anyway. You untie your hairs and let them fall in cascades over your shoulders. This is better.

 

You clean up behind you and inform the remaining customer that it's closing time. Handing the keys to Ralph, the security guard, you quickly run across the street, not wanting to make him wait any longer. Jay opens the car door for you from the inside even before you can reach it.

 

"Hop in" He says, a grin in his voice and he doesn't have to ask you twice.

 

This might be the most expensive car you've ever had the opportunity to sit in. The leather is soft against your skin, and it smells of fresh citrus. Even his car smells good. 

"So, Where to darling?" He asks, running his eyes all over you. You feel a little self conscious under his gaze but manage to utter your address nonetheless.

The entire ride is mostly silent with little conversation that he makes, asking you for directions. It isn't awkward, and you're so grateful for that. 

"Is this it?" He asks, stopping his car in front of the building whose name you blurted instead of your real address. 

You nod and thank him, ready to get out of the car when he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. The middle console digs into your stomach but you honestly couldn't care less with the way his hot breath falls on your face. 

Your cheeks are warm and you are sure that you represent a tomato with the way the heat only increases when he tucks your hairs behind your ear with his other hand. 

And oh god, he's leaning in, his eyes fixed onto your lips as he inches closer and closer and- 

As if on autopilot, You push him away. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment at how taken aback he looks by your sudden reaction. 

"I-im sorry i- i don't-

"I thought you liked me" He says in a hostile tone, and you can hear the annoyance in his voice, can see the indignation in his eyes. 

You can't believe you just pissed off your longtime crush because of your inability to be normal. How could you have fucked up so badly? 

"I-i do, I do like you" You mumble quickly, trying to hold your tears at bay when he scoffs at your words. The shame weighs heavy on your chest as he stares at you a bit longer before looking forward towards the road. 

"Goodnight y/n" He replies sharply, in the most coldest voice you have ever seen him use towards you. 

Your lips quiver as you wrack your brain for something to say but you don't think you can say anything to fix this now. You've made a fool of yourself and embarrassed Jay all because you can't be fucking normal about anything. 

He presses the horn aggressively, and you jump, mumbling apologies and scurrying out of his car hurriedly. Your ears burn in humiliation when he drives off without sparing a single glance towards you. 

Well done y/n. Your habit of being self sabotaging never really will go away. You cry all the way back to your house, not understanding the abrupt downturn of promising events. It was going so well. He was going to kiss you. You were so close to having your first kiss. 

You wipe your tears dry when you get close to your house. Jihoon is fast asleep in Suzy's arms when she hands him over to you. You thank her for her kindness and make your way to your house, cradling jihoon's sleeping form. When he cuddles into your neck, his innocent embrace evokes a flood of pent up tears; all that you've been pushing back today, comes flooding out. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to sleep this carefree in someone's arms. If there's love meant for you,then you have never felt it once in your life, and you wonder if it's too late now.

You're crying when you tuck him tenderly into bed, crying when you leave a wet kiss on his forehead, caressing his soft cheeks. You're crying when you try to eat the food Suzy gave you in the afternoon, and you're crying when you rub off all the evidence of today from your body inside the shower. At one point, you aren’t even sure what you’re crying about.

Thankfully, when you come out of the shower, the tears have ceased. You embrace the numbness which spreads all over your body after a soul crushing sob session. It’s funny really, how quickly you seem to turn your emotions on and off like a flip switch, like they aren’t even real at all.

Once your emotions are out of the way, and jihoon is asleep, you can't help but relish in the feeling of your skin under your fingertips. You aren't particularly horny, you just want to feel better and sleep with an empty mind. Masturbation always seems to work.

 

You throw off your towel and crawl onto the bed, spreading your legs and rubbing small circles on your clit, trying to get yourself wet. You rub and rub, and whine when it starts to feel somewhat good. Still, it isn't good enough to get you soaked thoroughly, so that you can cum again and again to your heart's content.

You groan frustratedly and reach for your phone, feeling extremely ashamed when your finger hovers over heeseung's chats. Your pussy tingles in excitement when you read his lewd words, attached to the video he sent you yesterday. 

"Gonna fuck you so good if you give me a chance baby, look how hard you make this dick"

You bite your lower lip and press play, rubbing your thighs together at the wet sounds coming from the video. His dick is so thick and girthy, curving upwards in excitement. His fingers look so long wrapped around his cock, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs at the thought of feeling them inside of you.

The way he moves his palm, up and down, up and down, moaning and groaning your name in pleasure, it has you writhing in no time. You will never admit it to heeseung, but he's the only person you ever think of while touching yourself. He turns you on beyond belief. He turns you on in a way that feels wrong. Almost Taboo. 

You continue to rub your clit to the sight of him jerking off, hoping that you could see his face in the video too. You wonder what he looks like when he's feeling good. The thought alone is enough to have you dripping in no time. You throw your phone onto the bed, but before you can start fingering your leaking pussy, your phone rings, making you groan in annoyance. 

You reach beside your head to pick it up and almost drop it on your face when you see heeseung's name flashing on your screen.

Fuck. What the fuck.

When he told you in college that he was gonna call, you really didn't think he actually will. But the phone is ringing and your body lights up in excitement. Is he really going to jerk off on call? Is he really that perverse?

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you swipe right, chewing on your lower lip as you press the phone against your ear. 

"Hey baby, I didn't think you would pick up, missed me didn't ya? " His cocky voice blares through the speaker and you blush. How was he making you blush over the phone, get a fucking grip y/n.

He chuckles when you don't say anything, finding your silence cute. 

"At least say a hi for me baby, so I can know that I'm not about to jerk off for your dad" His words make you wince, why was he so vulgar? 

"Heeseung!" You whisper shout, trying to convey through your voice how scandalized you are.

 

"There she is, fuck pretty, you're gonna stay with me on call while I beat my meat for you yeah?" He grunts and you gasp, feeling violated by his language alone. 

You rub your thighs and fiddle with your pebbled nipples "c-can you not use such words? " you ask quietly, hoping that he doesn't pick up on the silent whine that leaves your mouth right after. 

You hear a little shuffling on the line and your face feels hot. So he really is getting ready to jerk off? What will he say if you tell him how wet you are for him right now?

Heeseung can't believe you haven't hung up on him yet. His dick getting harder and harder the more that he hears your cute fucking voice. 

"Nah baby, I'm a nasty motherfucker, you should know that. If you ever let me fuck your cunt, I'll show you what real nasty sex feels like" He says, groaning when he hears you whimper at his words. Fuck. Why the fuck are you so fucking cute. 

He hisses when he wraps his rough palm around his leaking prick, he hasn't even started jerking off yet and he's already leaking so much precum.

Heeseung doesn't like cute things, but fuck does he want to fuck into one, wants to pound your cute little pussy while you make those cute little sounds for him. 

His ears perk up when he hears the wet squelching sounds coming through the speaker. Fuck. Fuck are you--? 

"baby, are you touching yourself? I can hear your wet little cunt through the phone" He grunts, as if in pain.

The moan that you let out tells him all that he needs to know. And damn he's never been so fucking hard before. 

"fuck yeah baby, fuck yourself with your tiny little fingers, make yourself feel real good for me" He groans, stroking his cock at a rapid pace, unable to stop himself from going feral. This is the first time that you have given him the taste of what it really could be like if he was buried in your wet snatch. It's driving him batshit crazy. 

"H-heeseung" you mewl, making him fuck into his fist faster. God, you sound so sexy. The heat spreads all over his body, making him feel so damn good that he starts bucking up his hips into his hands. 

"Y-yeah? Feels so good yeah , baby? Fuck, I wish It was my cock buried in you right now, I would pound you all fucking night -ugh fuckk" he grunts, panting as he feels the knot in his stomach tighten. He wants to cum so bad. 

Your whines reach a fever pitch and the intensity of the wet squelch increases. God, the filthy sounds of your wetness as you play with your pussy, make his tongue loll out of his mouth. He needs to bury his face in your juices before he dies.

"g-gonna c-um im-ah" you moan, whining and panting as your orgasm gets closer.

Heeseung curses under his breath and jerks off furiously, squeezing his engorged dick head and hissing in pure pleasure. 

"Oh yeah, cum all over my fucking cock baby, make a fucking mess, I'm gonna give you my cum too" He moans, thrusting up into his fist, again and again and again, chasing his high desperately. His palm is a wet, sticky mess of precum while he strokes his shaft to your whiny voice. You make him so fucking horny, the brutal way he's fisting his dick is a testament to that. 

A loud moan on your end makes him cuss, his own eyes rolling back as he hears you cumming. So fucking cute, god you sound heavenly. His hips buck up into his fist a few more times before he's spurting thick strings of his cum all over his chest and palm. He plants his feet onto the bed, and thrusts up into his fist over and over to drain himself of all that he has to give.

Fucking hell, that was probably the best jerk off session of his life. Before he can tell you that, however, you hang up on him. 

Heeseung chuckles in exhaustion and doesn't even bother cleaning his body, laying on the bed in pure sexual satiation. 

You're so cute. 

The events of yesterday hit you hard in the morning. Your eyes are swollen and red because of the crying session you had after masturbation. When the high of the orgasm wore off, everything else came back and it hurt like a bitch. 

You can't believe you let heeseung talk you through your orgasm, you can't believe that he made you cum without touching you, and what you can't believe the most is how much you liked it. 

Your mind drifts off to Jay, and a sudden shame fills you up again. No matter how hard you try, you're unable to forget the look of disappointment on his face, looking at you with so much annoyance etched onto the creases of his face, it almost reminded you of your mother.

Your gaze goes to the clock and you can't help but heave yourself out of the bed. As much as you'd like to stay and rot in extreme self pity, you don't have the option. Jihoon will be up soon, and you have a limited one hour stretch to make his lunch and get ready for college. You're not ready for the walk of shame to college, but being an academic weapon is your only achievement in life. You wonder what you would be if they take that away from you. Have you ever done anything else? Gone out, made friends? Got drunk at parties, had sleepovers? You haven't, you realize with a throbbing pain at the back of your head. It never was an option for you. 

You take a shower and fix a quick breakfast for your brother and yourself, getting ready in your prim and proper attire, reverting back to your put together front. 

Waking up jihoon is a work of lost art that you've mastered over the years, and so it's easy work. What isn't easy, however, is to convince him to let you go. 

"Why can't you stayy" He whines, tears already filling up his big, brown eyes as he clings to your leg like always. 

You kneel down to come face to face with him and quickly wipe his tears away "I'm going to bring back chocolates, you like them right?" you ask, cooing when he nods, his brows still furrowed in defiance. 

"Then someone will have to go and bring them right? so be a good boy and let y/n go" 

His little brows furrow further and he shakes his head again "suzy can go" He declares, and you can't help but be endeared. All the time that you stay away from him, you'd started to believe that he'll develop more of an attachment with suzy and eventually forget you. But these little things, these are the things that keep you going. 

You plant a big kiss on his puffy cheeks and he's back to grinning in no time, giggling as you tackle him in your arms. 

"Just a few more hours baby, I'll be back and we'll play together, I promise" you assure the little boy and his eyes shine at your words, "swings! at the park!" He exclaims, as if remembering the most important treasure of his life. You nuzzle his nose with your own and intertwine your pinky with his tiny one in a promise. It's so easy to make him happy, your perfect little baby. 

You pepper jihoon with a few more kisses before dropping him off at Suzy's.

Your heart tugs when he starts to cry for you again, but this is your life, you suppose. 

You keep your head down the entire way to class, lest you run into Jay and embarrass yourself again. Luckily for you, Jay isn't in his designated seat in the automata class, and you can’t help but breath a sigh of relief.

The relief is tremendously short lived tho, because Lee Heeseung is sprawled on the seat right next to yours in his full glory. 

Your cheeks turn red when your eyes meet his cocky ones. He smirks and raises a suggestive brow when you don't make a move to come any closer. 

"Do you plan to stand for the entirety of this two hour lecture baby?" He asks, suckling on the pop sickle that he always seems to have somehow. You quickly scan the seats around you, deciding fuck it, and plop onto jay's seat instead. There's no way you will be able to spend two whole hours under Heeseung's lecherous gaze. After last night, you have no idea how to face him. Even on normal days he leaves you extremely flustered and a clumsy mess. 

You can feel his gaze burning holes at the back of your head for the entire duration of the lecture. Sometime in the middle of the lesson, a crumpled paper hits the back of your head. You turn around, shooting heeseung an annoyed look. At least you try to look annoyed. The blush is still prominent on your cheekbones so you can only imagine what you look like to him. 

He motions his head towards the ball of paper lying near your feet. As much as you want to ignore his shenanigans and focus on the lecture, curiosity always gets the best of you. 

You unfold it quickly, tucking it inside your book so that nobody else can catch the words scribbled on it. 

"Wait for me in the janitor's closet"  

You shoot a defying look towards heeseung and crumple the paper back to land it near his jordans. It's equivalent to you saying "I won't" 

Heeseung only grins at you, shooting a wink in your direction, as if to reply

"I know you will"

He has some audacity, you think, as you make your way to the janitor's closet after class. A slave to your desires, you suppose.

A part of you is nervous and ashamed when his 6 feet tall figure enters the limited space of the closet, caging you against the wall. However, the other part of you, the desperate part of you , preens in the attention, almost feeling a sick pride in the fact that you made him cum too. And maybe even harder, if the way he was moaning last night was anything to go by.

 

His large hands circle your waist , and your breath hitches in your throat when he pulls you closer to himself, his nose touching yours while his hot breaths warm your mouth. 

"have sex with me" He says, leaving you speechless, yet again. It's not that he hasn't said those exact same words and even worse things to you before. It's the bluntness that never fails to take you by surprise. 

You shake your head, trying to push yourself out of his grasp. He's stubborn tho, and so damn strong, his hold like an iron grip around your body. 

"Cmon- he groans in frustration- you can have sex with me on the phone but not in person, how is that fucking fair? "

You whimper when he squeezes the fat of your waist harshly, as if branding your body in his hold. You aren't used to being touched so wantonly, and it makes a sick shiver run down the length of your spine.

"W-we did not have s-sex" you splutter, staring right back into his orbs. His heavy lidded eyes travel down to your lips and he leans in, making you gasp loudly when his pink tongue comes out to taste your lower lip, licking it tentatively. Almost experimental in how he runs it all over your lower plump lip. He pulls away before he can steal your first kiss, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel somewhat disappointed. 

"Yes we did have sex. Your tight little pussy came for my fucking cock while you were moaning my name" He supplies cockily, his words sending a wave of heat rushing down between your legs. 

He buries his nose in the crook of your neck and presses his body flush into yours, grinding the proof of his desire against your leg.

"Look what you do to me, fuck baby, if you won't let me fuck your cunt, at least take responsibility for your own actions" He grunts into your skin and you can't help the pathetic moan that leaves your mouth. 

"H-how" you ask, feeling yourself getting wetter the more that he humps your leg. 

Heeseung doesn't reply to you, instead, takes your hand that's clutching his shoulder and presses it against his hard on instead. 

"fuck yeahhh" He hisses, apparently craving your touch like a drug. 

you're sure your face can't get any redder than this. If it wasn't for his tight hold on your body, your knees would have buckled and given up a while ago. The feeling of a dick underneath your palm is foreign but so arousing, the fact that you did this to him. He’s hard for You. 

"Come on baby, squeeze it like you mean it, make me feel fucking good" He hisses, groaning into your neck when you squeeze him softly. The hardness in his jeans seems to get thicker and thicker, it fascinates you. 

He ruts his hips into your palm, desperately,trying to chase the delicious friction while he pants into your soft flesh.

"Fuck, it's not enough" He curses, pulling back from you to unbuckle himself.

You bite into your lower lip in arousal and squeeze your thighs to alleviate some of the pressure you feel between your legs. 

He looks up into your eyes, licking on his lips as he plays with the band of his boxer briefs. He watches in amusement, the way that your eyes can't seem to focus on one single thing, jumping from here to there, so nervous,so pretty and . God, you're cute. 

He takes your hand in his own again and slips it inside his boxers, covering your palm with his own while he uses your soft hand to jerk himself off. 

The hot and heavy feel of his leaking length has you whining. That only makes him chuckle and groan. "Mhmmn baby that feels so good"

The wet and messy way in which he uses your palm to stroke his length up and down, it's addicting, your palm feels soft and his whole body shivers when he sees how desperately you're squirming, your eyes wide and glossy. He wants to fucking ruin you. 

He presses his body further into yours, taking your earlobe into his mouth, small whimpers falling from his mouth while his movements get faster. Your palm is slick with his precum, it should gross you out but everything is so hot and heavy in the small space. 

"Are you wet? Just from feeling my dick? Desperate little thing aren't you? " He muses. You shake your head meekly, averting your gaze from his sweaty face and looking down to observe the rapid movements of your combined hands inside his boxers. 

"M'not wet" you mewl, eliciting a mocking laugh from the boy. He trails his kisses down the tempting length of your neck, the touch so sensual, it leaves you gasping. 

"I can feel your pretty little body squirming against me you know, makes me wanna force my dick inside you, where will you run if I do? " he asks, biting your collarbone when the slide of his dick gets wetter and squelchier. 

His words, instead of scaring you, make an inexplicable heat to ignite your insides. You want him to, you can't believe how bad you want him to act on his desires because you know you don't have the courage to act on your own. 

"f-fuck, pretty, moan for me baby, wanna hear you when I cum" He sighs into your neck, nipping at your skin and planting kisses in between his moans.

Hearing his words make you keen and he curses under his breath. The hold of his palm is brutal, your hand hurts but God does it feel good to hear him so desperate and needy, whining so hotly in your ear.

"fuck I'm so close so -ugh god-" His voice fades into a delicious moan and you can feel yourself dripping, your juices running down the length your thighs. 

You don't hold back on your sounds, letting small whimpers leave your mouth when he digs his teeth into your skin again. 

"Why won't you let me fuck you baby, wanna be the first to get inside your virgin little pussy so bad" He pants, supporting himself with a hand planted beside your head on the wall while he continues to masturbate using your flesh. 

It's exhilarating, it's hot, and it's so scandalous. 

"H-heeseung! " You moan when he lathers the skin of your neck with his saliva, tasting your skin like his life depends on it. 

"Sh-shit" He stutters, the lewd way you cry out his name make his eyes roll back to the back of his head. You gasp when you feel his hot length twitching repeatedly, warm, thick liquid covering your entire palm along with his own. 

His hips stutter a few more times inside your hold before stilling, a large sigh of satisfaction leaving his lips.

"Fucking hell baby, you always make me cum so hard" He whispers, chuckling to himself. 

He pulls your hand out of his boxers and wipes his hand off on his jeans, while you watch in silence with face turning crimson. He dresses himself and winks at you before walking out of the closet, leaving you standing there with your palm covered in his sticky, gooey cum. 

You feel used, but at least you’re useful for something. 

To say that you are sick of yourself would be an understatement. You feel violated, but some sick part of you enjoys being desired so wantonly. It turns you on. Heeseung doesn't love you, scratch that, he doesn't even like you but here you are, letting him use your body like some mindless sex toy anytime he damn well pleases. You wonder what that says about you. Sure, he's a jerk, but what are you?

You're lost in thoughts, walking home when a loud honk makes you jump on the sidewalk. You turn towards the car honking at you and come to a halt, facing the very familiar Volkswagen. 

There’s no way.

"Come on sweetheart, get inside" Jay grins at you from the inside of his car. You blink at a him a couple of time to really make sure that he's here. After the complete fiasco last night, you really weren't expecting to hear from him so fast. Or at all for that matter.

Nonetheless, he is here, and he's asking you to get inside his car. With your eyes downcast, you crawl towards it and slip inside the passenger seat, playing with your fingers while you avoid looking at him at all costs. He doesn't start the car, but you can feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face. 

"I'm sorry about last night" He begins, and you can't help but look up at him astonished. Why was he sorry? You were the one who royally fucked up. 

He smiles at you apologetically and reaches out a hand to caresses your cheek by the back of it. If you weren't mentally screaming, you're sure you would have said something, and assured him that he has nothing to be sorry about. 

"I just, I shouldn't have tried to kiss you so fast, at least not without taking you on a date first. it's just that we've been friends for so long, and we both like each other, so it just seemed like the right thing to do" He explains, remorse dripping from his tone. You start to node your head in support of his sentiments when his words click inside your brain. 

Wait. 

"Y-you like me?" You blurt, cheeks flaming when his gaze falls to your mouth and he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. 

"So much that i forgot how to behave" He mutters in a trance, all his attention focused on fiddling with your plump and fleshy lower lip.

 

You blush at his words and avert your gaze back down to your lap, and he pulls his hand back. You want to whine at the loss of contact, enjoying too much being caressed so softly. When was the last time you were touched so gently?

"Before I try to kiss you again, because I will, you're too pretty to resist- he chuckles, and you try to bite back the smile that's threatening to break free on your face- would you like to go on an aquarium date with me? A little birdy told me that is your dream date" He grins at you, wiggling his eyebrows when you look into his kind eyes, and you let your giggles take over your body. The fact that he remembers your random rant from months ago shoots a giddy feeling through your heart. It feels good being remembered. 

"How about tomorrow? Skip college and let me take you out? " He suggests and you nod rapidly, almost detaching your neck from its socket. Jay only laughs at you endearingly, and it makes you blush even more. 

He drops you off at the same building as last night again, and both of you are grinning from ear to ear when he drives off. You're sure you catch a few stray looks from the passerbys when they see you beaming and giggling like an idiot as you walk back home with an obvious skip in your step. It’s ridiculous, really, but it feels good to have something to look forward to in a very long time.

You sigh loudly when you remember the promise you made to jihoon this morning. You're mentally calculating the time you have prior to when you need to be at the cafe, when Suzy's door opens before you can even knock on it, and out comes your little brother, bounding, and giggling in a high pitched scream.

You squat down to catch him in your arms before he can collide with your legs. 

"Looks like someone missed me" You giggle, hugging the little life close to your body, sighing upon inhaling the familiar scent of his baby powder. 

"Missed yew" He mumbles into your throat, his little hands wrapped around your neck, and you can’t help but coo at him in adoration. "Missed you too my baby, y/n loves you so much"

"He has been so excited the entire day, he wouldn't even eat until I told him you'll be mad if he didn't" Suzy tells you, coming out of her house with jihoon's water bottle in her hand. You laugh at her words, and pick your brother up in your arms while he continues to nuzzle into you. 

"I'll take him to the park for a bit, I have about an hour before my shift starts" You inform her and she nods at you, running her experienced warm eyes over your face.

 

"You look happy darling" She notes and you can't help the blush that dusts your cheeks at her words. She apparently notices , cooing at how shy you are all of a sudden.

"is it a boy y/n, yes or no?" She asks, a teasing lilt in her voice and you bite your lower lip, nodding in a giddy manner. 

"It is, I have a date tomorrow" you admit, unable to conceal the excitement in your voice. She gasps and pats your head "what a fortunate man he'll be to have someone as amazing as you darling" She whispers, pure emotion shining in her eyes.

 

You swallow the lump forming in your throat at her words, averting your gaze and mumbling a small thank you. No, you refuse to cry today, you had your fill of indulging in your emotions yesterday.

So, you push her words to the recess of your mind, where you securely encase them in a metaphorical box, stacking it up on a bunch of age old boxes. Emotions that you adamantly refused to confront and deal with, a stance that you still maintain.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

As you sit staring at your wardrobe, a sense of urgency washes over you and you come to two stark realizations. 

Firstly, you need to buy more clothes. The sparse collection of garments hanging before you testified to this necessity.

 

Secondly, and perhaps more pressing, was the acute awareness that none of what you have is remotely suitable for a date.

Jay is supposed to pick you up in a mere hour and you don't have anything to wear. Well, there's a blue halter neck dress that you wore for freshmen party in your first year, which you're sure doesn't fit you now. There's 3 silk pressed shirts which you alternate at your college, a handful of skirts and a scattering of sweaters. 

And that's it. 

You're about to cry when you feel a wave of panic rising within you. You’re o utterly unprepared for this moment.

As the crushing clarity threatens to overwhelm you, a pang of longing sweeps through you. You wish you had a girlfriend. It's not like you don't have friends, you talk to several people in school, be it for work or just casual chatting , but that's about it. Your relations with other people end as soon as you step out of your university building. Of course, you know that it's your own fault that you don't have anyone in your life, you never really put in the effort to keep up with someone, a casualty of your own reluctance to invest in deeper connections.

Whenever someone tries to delve deeper into your life, you just push back, and you push back hard. You are too consumed with your own life, you suppose. It's not that you have never had any friends either, you have had quite a lot, in fact, you even had a best friend in middle school. Time really changed you as a person though, its not to say that she didn't change either, time changes everyone, but your change had been tangible. You just let everyone go, choosing to stay in your own miserable bubble, blocking all attempts of reaching out or any support that you so desperately needed. Each flicker of friendship extinguished, each bond severed, bore the weight of your own self imposed isolation. You did this to yourself, you weren't a victim of circumstances no matter how much self pity you reserve for yourself. You were the architect of your own solitude, barricading yourself within the confines of your melancholic safety. You tell yourself that it’s better this way, that you don’t need anyone, but how long can you fool yourself?

The halter dress is the only option left for you it seems. 

The dress is not tight, but anyone looking at it can tell that it's not made to fit your body either. It's not revealing, but you can't call it modest either, at least by your standards, you don't think you've ever shown so much skin before. The blue one piece ends smack in the middle of your thighs, your chest is covered for the most part, and the long sleeves cover up your arms. If it's not for the unfamiliar sight of your bare legs, everything looks quite normal, you don't look hideous so that's a relief. 

You opt for leaving your hairs open, because last time you did that, Jay tried to kiss you. 

You wait for Jay at the entrance of your false residence. If he finds it odd that you're already outside, he doesn't comment on it, and you're grateful for that. 

"Wow" Jay says as soon as you enter his car “ you look so hot”, making your ears turn bright red. 

"T-thank you" you mumble, trying not to be bothered by how blatantly he is ogling at your exposed thighs, or how his eyes linger due to your dress riding upwards when you sit down. 

You both make casual conversation during the drive, and it's comfortable, the casual back and forth just like old friends. You can get used to this, you tell yourself.

The aquarium that he takes you to is bigger than your entire university building, so pretty and so enchanting, you almost lose track of time. Ever since you were little, you have dreamed of visiting one, you remember writing the same in one of your introductory papers in second semester, a paper that was discussed in class as well. How jay managed to remember that is beyond you tho. Throughout the date, he keeps you updated on every thing that you come across, and it feels good to have his attention completely focused on you. You almost combust when he takes you to a restaurant after the aquarium date, thoroughly flabbergasted because you've never been on a date before. 

The experience is something you will never forget, your first date, the thought makes you feel ecstatic, the wide smile on your face which refuses to go away is a testament to that. 

Turns out, your first kiss happens in the same night as well. As soon as Jay parks his car outside your trademark building, he's all over you. He doesn't ask you, he just leans over to you and smashes his lips against yours, tasting your hot mouth eagerly. You don't know what you're doing, your hands are placed awkwardly over his chest while you try to move your lips against his, mimicking his movements to the best of your ability. He doesn't seem bothered by your lack of skills tho, just diving into your mouth with his tongue, one hand cupping your face while with the other, he gropes your thighs. 

You push back your discomfort and revel in the feeling of his touch, gasping when he bites into your lower lip. He tastes like the wine you drank at the restaurant and you wonder if you taste the same to him. 

The kiss ends too soon for your liking, but, the feeling of his dark eyes and rough hands running all over the length of your body shamelessly, follows you back home. 

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You ignore heeseung's calls for the next few days, almost contemplating blocking his number once and for all, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

Your dates with Jay continue, and you do manage to buy yourself a new dress. You’re doing well for your first relationship, if you can even call it that.

Even though Jay does seem to love kissing you, never in a million did you ever think that you'd find yourself in such a compromising position. However, here you are, sitting on Jay's lap in the middle of class while he eats your face. Yes, he's actually devouring your mouth, tongue buried so deep into your throat that the feeling has you arching your body into him. 

What makes the experience more thrilling is the audience you have. Your classmates had collectively gasped when Jay pulled you onto his lap seemingly out of nowhere. But, it isn't them that you are worried about. It's the boy at the back of the class with a perfect scowl etched onto his handsome face as he watches you make out with someone that's not him. 

Heeseung looks livid and you wonder why. Is he upset because he thinks you aren't a virgin anymore? 

Jay lets you go with a smirk when the professor announces his presence, and you rush to your seat that's right in front of the scowling boy, in a daze. It's actually amazing how he ignores you the entire lecture, something that has never happened before. what's more unsettling is the fact that you are mildly disappointed by that. 

You want to ask him what he's upset about, but you aren't able to gather the courage to. As much as heeseung's a constant itch at the back of your head, you remind yourself that you're dating Jay now, so you can't be thinking about other men. 

You're dating Jay now. You're dating Jay. You're dating. 

None of those sentences sound real to you. 

However, the giddy feeling inside your chest dwindles as Jay gets more and more touchy throughout the entire day. You can't tell if it's normal to grope your chest just a few days after you had your first kiss, but you don't want to make him upset again. You don’t like seeing him angry. Besides, isn't this what you always wanted? Someone to want you, someone to love you? 

And haven't you let Heeseung do worse things to you anyway? Why haven't you ever felt such discomfort when Heeseung used your body to get himself off? . But the truth is, has Heeseung ever touched you this way? Sure he sends you inappropriate messages that are borderline harassment, sure he used your hand to jerk himself off once, sure he wants your virginity and he has made his intentions clear, but has he ever ventured beneath your clothes before? 

He has never groped your body before, not like Jay is doing. Now that you think about it, heeseung has never even kissed you before. Your mind makes countless comparisons between Heeseung and Jay, and you wonder why you do that to yourself. Were you really comparing the guy whose whole purpose of pursuing you was to pop your cherry and wear it like a symbol of achievement, to the boy that likes you and took you to your dream date? 

A gasp leaves your throat when jay grabs your ass, smacking it and making you yelp between harsh kisses. You're glad you're in his car and not outside, glad that people aren't there to witness you being touched like this.

"You're so pretty" He whispers in your ear, and so you latch onto his words and overlook his actions.

 

Now that you have someone who likes you back, do you really want to push him away? Do you want to let your useless self doubt and trust issues stop you from living your life yet again? No. 

Thus, you push your discomfort to the back of your mind when his hand travels under your skirt at one point. 

"It's normal y/n, don't make a fool of yourself" you chant in your head, trying to enjoy the feeling of being wanted. 

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“We never really talk.... There's so much we still don't know about each other" your voice is meek, feeling hesitant to say your thoughts out loud in case you end up upsetting jay; which you seem to be doing a lot, to be honest. 

The said boy groans from the seat in front of you where he's busy on his phone, completely facing away from you. 

"We know plenty" He quips, not even sparing you a glance, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from thinking too much about it. Maybe he just isn't in the mood today? But again, when is he ever in a mood? 

All you do is make out, and when things get heated, you always pull away. Then he gets agitated, and doesn't talk to you for days. It fucks with your head, but you go along, and even though you don't feel comfortable, you start letting him touch you more, and even though your body is taut with tension, he never seems to care. 

You want to tell him about your brother, want to share the little things you do together and the things that make you happy. You want to ask what his favorite color is.

However, the opportunity never seems to come. 

Your mind drifts off to heeseung, and the little notes he used to throw at the back of your head during last semester. 

"Do you like roses or lilies?"

"Do you sleep on your stomach or side? "

"Are you going to the town fair?"

You remember ignoring him back then, but now your heart constricts. Even if he was just trying to bother you, those questions were probably the only time someone had tried to get to know you. You don't know what it is about heeseung, but everybody just looks at you, he's the only one who has ever made you feel seen. Maybe in another universe you would push aside your shyness and answer those notes. Maybe in another universe you would throw some notes back at him, asking things that you wanna know. 

"I like tulips... But lilies are good too"

"I sleep on my back, sleeping in any other position makes me sore, I don't know why tho"

"I'm not going to the town fair, I have to stay home with my brother, he's really small"

But it's too late now, and you swallow down your words, squash the need to talk to someone, and resort to the heavy silence that is your life. 

Heeseung is about to fly off the handle. The sight of you in another man's arms shouldn't bother him this much and yet, it does. The fact that you're ignoring his calls and messages makes him feel slightly insane. It shouldn't be like this. You are just a bet. A pick. Just another name on the list. 

Then why the fuck is he this close to smashing jay's annoying face in. It isn't even about your virginity anymore, and that's what bothers him the most. 

He hates it, hates that he's so affected by you, but he should have seen it coming,to be honest. With the way he stays up late just to jerk off to your pretty face, no girl has ever drove him this close to insanity before. The lust he feels for you is blinding and all consuming. It burns him, the desire he feels for you scorches him from the inside. It unsettles him how badly you’ve managed to turn him into a slave to your big, doe eyes.

Therefore, when he catches you alone in the classroom after three whole weeks of you ignoring his presence, he just can't help himself. It’s unfair how fucking pretty you look standing near the white board, scribbling something down onto your notebook while trying to setup the projector for your presentation later.

The sound of the classroom door being shut makes you jump, but the reason makes cold dread run inside your chest. Heeseung looks like a predator as he advances on your figure, eyes dark in lust and the vein in his neck throbbing with anger. His hands itch with the desire to touch you, it's been way too long for his liking since he last felt you close. 

Before you can say anything or do anything, he's on you. The feeling of his lips against yours is electrifying,it feels like your entire body comes alive at the contact. His kiss is surprisingly slow and more bruising than you've ever been kissed before. His hands wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer to himself, tilting his head to trace your lower lip with his tongue, waiting for you to let him in. 

You should push him away but you don't. You can't. Your head is dizzy with a passion you've only ever felt with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you push yourself closer to his firm body, opening your mouth and letting him tangle his tongue with yours. The moan that leaves your mouth at the feeling makes his slacks tighten, his dick hard and throbbing inside his trousers. 

You taste so fucking addicting, Heeseung doesn't wanna stop kissing and tasting your warm mouth. 

When he pulls away to breathe, you're both panting heavily, his forehead resting against yours, dark eyes staring into your soul. 

"I don't like when someone ignores me y/n" He growls, his voice sharp and hoarse from desire. The feeling of his hard on digging into your stomach makes you squirm. 

"I - I have a boyfriend, I shouldn't be talking to you" You manage to let out, biting back another moan when he grinds a bit into you. 

Heeseung feels hot rage flash across his chest at your words. 

"Oh yeah? He got his dick inside you yet?" He asks, his words making you blanch. How was he always so vulgar?

 

"That's, that's none of your business" You splutter, looking anywhere but his eyes. 

His hold tightens around your waist and he continues to grind his hard on against your soft flesh.

 

"I'll take that as a no, fuck, still a virgin aren't you baby?" he guesses.

You avoid looking at him and it only spurs him on further, his hold tightens around your body the more that you try to maintain some space.

"What a loser, if I was him, I would have buried myself into that tight little cunt of yours on the first night of our date" He whispers, and for some reason, his words excite you instead of disgusting you. A sick tingle runs down your spine and throbs between your legs.

"H-he's not like you" You quip, looking up into his eyes to get your point across "he doesn't want me for my body, he loves me for me"

Your words seem to make him angry, if the slight clench of his jaw is anything to go by. 

He stops moving against you and scoffs. 

"Loves you? What do you know about being loved y/n? " 

His tone is mocking, and eyes full of unfiltered rage, the words spoken with an intention to hurt. And hurt, they do. You wonder how he knows the exact place to strike to make pain ricochet so wildly inside your ribs. 

What do you know about being loved? Nothing, you suppose. How do you recognize love if you have never seen it before? or do you just accept everything that comes to you as love because you don't have any option to? do you just cling onto every act of kindness because of how much you want it to be love? 

What do you know about being loved indeed. 

Seeing your face fall makes heeseung regret his words almost instantly, the sight of your big eyes blinking up at him so solemnly makes his heart twist uncomfortably. What the fuck? 

Before he can apologize, however, your small hands slide down to push against his chest, and he lets you go. He doesn't stop you when you collect your assignment that you'd been working on when he barged in, your gaze downcast and shoulders slumped as if heavy from the weight of his words. 

The urge to pull you into his arms hits him as he watches you leave, but he's too much of a coward for that.

Because no matter how much he wants himself to believe it, 

You aren't just a name on the list, you never have been.

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The atmosphere feels different today. You took a day off from college just to spend time with Jay, and although it makes you feel guilty that you left jihoon with suzy for the entire day, you can't help but be selfish for once. 

All of this feels like a fever dream and you want to enjoy it before your alarm rings and you’re thrust back into the harsh reality once again.

Jay took you back to the aquarium, then you both went to the beach that his dad owned, and you were having so much fun that you just couldn't say no when he asked you to stay the night at his place. "No funny business" He assured. 

But that didn't last long. 

You whined into his mouth as his rough palms travelled beneath your silky sundress, sundress that he bought for you. "The yellow really suits your skin, wanna kiss you stupid" He had said, leaving you a flustered mess. 

"I'm gonna take this off baby" Jay whispers into your mouth, sitting back up and sliding your dress up your legs without waiting for your answer. 

You squirm in anxiety and embarrassment when he exposes your panties to his curious eyes. You want to cover yourself, you want to hide, but his firm hold on your waist keeps you down and under his mercy. 

He slides your dress further up your stomach and then it happens. Your worst nightmare comes true. His eye brows furrow and you watch in dread as his entire face shuts down. 

"Let's turn the lights off" He says, and you don't know what's worse, the way he eyes your body in distaste , or the way he pulls your dress down to cover you up. 

"Why? " You manage to ask, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. You know why, you just want to hear it. You want to hear him say it so that your illusion can shatter once and for all. 

Jay looks away and sighs, his jaw ticking in frustration "because that's how I like to have sex" He replies, his tone smooth, but you are anything but stupid. 

You sit up and bite on your wobbly lower lip, smoothing down your dress on your thighs with shaky hands.

 

"You don’t like what you saw" You whisper, barely audible, but he hears you alright. His nostrils flare as he finally turns to face you, looking angry and terrifying. 

"Do you have to be so damn difficult all the fucking time you stupid bitch? I'm trying not to be mean but you wanna hear how much your body's turning me off to your face? " He grits, hands coming down to grab your thighs and spreading your legs open. A sob escapes your lips at his words and you hit his chest to push him away

"I w-want to go home" You cry, sobbing more when he grunts in anger and slaps your face, pinning you down by your throat while he pushes you down onto your back, and straddles your thighs. 

"Wasted so much of my fucking time on you, and now you want to go home? Right when I'm this close to being the first one who's gonna scratch your name off the list? "

Your heart stops at the implication of his words, pure disgust and terror runs through your veins.Your eyes fill up with more tears and you start using your full body strength, squirming and flailing, somehow managing to hit him in the shins with your knee. He howls in pain and rolls off of you , cussing you out.

"Fucking bitch" He growls, but you don't stay or look back, grabbing your phone and running as fast as you can. You hear his footsteps chasing you, but the adrenaline pushes you forward even though your vision is blurry with how much you're crying.

How you managed to open his house's main gate is beyond you, but once you are out in the open, the night air hitting your wet cheeks, that's when you come to a halt. You don't know how far or how long you ran, you don't see any people around, just luxurious houses standing tall, and it makes you sob more. You don't see Jay chasing you down the road so that calms your heart a little, but soon, the gravity of your situation sinks in. You almost got raped. 

The thought makes your knees wobble and you unceremoniously collapse onto the sidewalk, your back resting against a cold metal pole. Your hands shake and sobs wrack your entire body, feeling intense pain coursing through your bones. 

You were jay's pick too. How could you have been so blind to the signs? Him approaching you out of the blue, just a few weeks after the list got released . if you weren't blinded by your stupid feelings, you would have seen it as clear as day. He wanted your virginity. Just like Heeseung. 

He didn't like you as you had deluded yourself into thinking.

The disgust on his face when he saw the stretch marks littering the lining of your stomach, it was so palpable it made you flinch.

 

Was he going to fuck you just for the sake of winning the game? Is your virginity really all that? But who are you kidding, all this time, you have held onto your virginity so desperately because you know that it's the only thing that makes you desirable, doesn't it? It's the only reason Heeseung wants you, it's the only reason Jay pursued you, what even are you without your virginity? Once you lose it, you'll fade into the background again. 

No more delusions. Just plain, cruel reality. 

The hurt you feel is something that you brought upon yourself. Did you not know yourself? How could you ever, even for a second, expect someone to love this version of you? When even you can't look at your body without disgust, why did you expect Jay to? 

As your sobs quite down and turn into small sniffles, you dial Heeseung's number and let your phone ring. This is it, you think to yourself, heart oddly calm when he picks up on the second ring. 

"Hey sweetheart, this is the first time you have called me on y-

"Do you still want to fuck me? " You ask, your voice hoarse and monotonous. 

You hear a sudden clatter of something falling down on the other end of the line, like he dropped something, taken off guard by the suddenness of your question. 

"I-yeah-i mean what? are you okay baby? " He splutters, and your head throbs, you look around yourself and don't even recognize where you are.

 

"can you pick me up? I know it's late, but i think I'm lost, you can fuck me as payment, I'm still a virgin" You explain. And somehow, hearing you talk about yourself like a commodity rubs Heeseung the wrong way. What's going on with you? You don't even sound like the y/n he knows.

 

"Where are you baby? " He asks, and if you didn't know any better, you would say that he sounds concerned. 

"I don't know.. there's a beach nearby.... and the area looks expensive, but i can't tell what street-

"send me your location from the maps baby, I'll be right there, just stay where you are " He warns before hanging up. 

You want to smack your head against concrete, so much for being an academic weapon, why didn't you think about sharing your location before. 

You rub your bare arms to keep yourself warm. Apparently, the dress isn't as warm against the night cold as it seemed to be inside the warmth of the house. 

Somehow, this decision feels right. Heeseung has been the only person who has been honest about his intentions with you from the very beginning. Although it was the exact same thing that Jay wanted, but still, it feels right to let Heeseung take your virginity instead of anybody else. You want this miserable fallacy of want and desire to end. And for that, you are going to give away the only thing that makes you special. Sounds like a perfect plan to you. 

After what seems like an eternity, a blue Toyota stops right in front of you. 

You don't even glance at it twice, just staring blankly at your feet, until you hear the driver's door open, and shoes come into your line of vision. You don't even have a chance to look up before heeseung's gathering you into his arms

"Holy fuck you're freezing baby" He exclaims, picking up your numb body as you cling onto him for life, you can barely feel your legs. Heeseung lays you down in the back seat, and instantly turns the heater on. A cold shiver runs up your spine at the sudden temperature change, your eyes falling shut on their own, and everything around you fades into darkness. You want to sleep a very long sleep. 

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Heeseung looks at your body in his back seat, anxiety coiling in his stomach at the sight of you being curled up into a fetus position. Even as he drives, he can't concentrate on anything else, because he's pretty sure he saw a red mark on your left cheek, like someone hit you. Hard. 

He's hoping he's wrong, because the rage building up in his chest is inexplicable.

There's dry mascara tracks running down your cheeks so he figures that you must have been crying, and he can't help the sick jolt he feels in his cock at the thought. 

The yellow dress you're wearing is riding all the way upto your thighs, and Heeseung can feel his throat getting parched. So much skin. He's never seen you this exposed before. He wants to touch you, wants to run his palm over your smooth skin and kiss you till you're moaning into his mouth , and he wants to take you up on that offer you made on the phone, he wants to see for himself how pretty you look while crying. 

He curses himself for having such thoughts when you're clearly not okay, but Heeseung's no saint. He’s never claimed to be one either. 

He knows that if you asked him to take your virginity to his face, he will ravage you on the spot, it won't matter that you seem to be in pain. He'll make you forget everything and fill you with pure pleasure the entire night. 

He's not a man of morals, and he's never pretended to be one. 

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You wake up with a start, breathing heavily while your eyes adjust to the view around you. The unfamiliar soft sheets, the tasteful and expensive decor of the room, it all intimidated you somehow. You called heeseung, that's all that you remember, everything after that is a blur. Is this jay's room? Did he find you again? 

Your heart's beating really fast, threatening to give up on you as you look down and see yourself in a white linen shirt instead of the dress that you were wearing instead. What the fuck happened. 

You instinctively reach between your legs and it doesn't hurt, your panties are dry and intact. So, this isn't jay's house or clothes. The familiar cologne fills up your senses once you take a whiff of the shirt you're wearing, and it all makes sense. Heeseung. 

This is heeseung's house, and his room probably, definitely his shirt. Did he change you out of your dress? Was he as disgusted as jay when he saw the mess that you were underneath your clothes?

You look around yourself and sigh in relief at finding your phone on the bedside table, exhaling the breath that you didn't know you have been holding. 

Before you can reach for it tho, the door to the room opens. You pull the sheets closer to your chest when Heeseung peeks in. He seems a little taken aback at seeing you awake and sitting up , looking like he caught you in the middle of doing something. 

"Thank god you're up baby, thought you’d die on me" He grins, coming inside and closing the door behind him. Suddenly, the room feels small for just the two of you, your fingers wringing nervously when he takes a seat next to you, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. 

You bite back a pained whimper at the pressure against your left cheek, Jay must have hit you really hard, the skin still sensitive and stinging at the slightest of touch. Heeseung seems to notice your discomfort and removes that hand instantly, choosing to caress the other side of your face instead. 

"I need to know that you're okay sweetheart" He says, urging you to speak. But you don't know what you're supposed to say, you aren't okay, obviously, but this is better than everything else so you suppose you are. You choose to nod instead. 

He hums and slides more closer to you, forcing you to look into his eyes, his face so close that if you leaned forward just a bit, your lips would collide. 

"Do you want to tell me what happened? Who did this to you?" He asks, and you are taken aback by the softness in his touch and words. But you'd be a fool if you fall for that again. 

Hence, you take hold of his free hand instead, watching how his eyes immediately fall to your tight grip, watching in rapt attention as you guide his hand under your shirt, and between your legs. Heeseung's eyes instantly darken when his hand comes into contact with your panty clad pussy, a few choice words leaving his mouth when you gasp at his touch. 

Fuck. He likes this bold version of you. 

His eyes meet yours, and hot arousal pools in his lower stomach at the way you're looking at him, eyes blown out in lust and desperation.

"It doesn't matter" You whisper, inching closer to his face, and planting a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth "just want you to fuck me and show me how good sex can feel" 

A deep grunt leaves his chest at your words, and the next thing you know, his hungry mouth is latched on yours, the force of his actions making you hit your back against the bed sheets while he mounts your body, his palm still cupping the centre of your legs. He kisses you like he's been deprived of you for so long. All thoughts of your well being leave his mind, focus locked onto the sinful words you just whispered into his ear. His tongue dives into your mouth and you give him free access, both of you exchanging spit messily. You mewl into his kiss, your body squirming pathetically when he starts rubbing your clit from above your panties, applying just the right amount of pleasure to leave you gasping. 

You're just about to thread your fingers in his silky strands when the familiar ringtone of your phone makes you jolt. He ignores the sound like he can't even hear it, tongue too busy sucking yours, the movement of his thumb getting faster and harder. 

You can't ignore the sound tho, there aren't many people who call you. So, when your phone rings for the second time, you know it's important. You push against his chest, and he pulls away, panting heavily while he stares at you, brows furrowed in confusion. 

You swallow the spit pooling in your mouth as you watch him gathering your saliva coating his lips and sucking it into his own. How does he make everything seem so hot and nasty?

"Sorry, i- i have to take that" you whisper, motioning towards your blaring phone. Heeseung grabs it from the nightstand and hands it over to you instantly "make it fast baby" He grunts, retreating his hand from between your legs and settling on groping the soft flesh of your thighs instead. 

You nod, and curse when you see Suzy's name. Fuck. Fuck. You never thought about informing her of your whereabouts. She must have been waiting for you. Jihoon must be waiting for you. With an apology on the top of your tongue, you swipe right.

"Hey suzy, I'm sorr-

"Y/n, your dad is back and you need to come back right now" Her terrified voice cuts you off. Panic takes hold of your spine, and you instinctively get out of the bed, standing up to calm down your heart. You can feel heeseung's inquisitive gaze on you, but you can't be bothered with keeping up appearances right now. 

"What do u mean? Why do u sound scared?" You ask her, tears gathering at your waterline, because as much as you want to stay calm, the terror grips hold of your heart. It’s never good when your dad is back.

There's some shuffling on the other side, and your heart drops when you recognize jihoon's sobs, and Suzy's coos trying to shush him down. 

"What's going on?!" you can't help but raise your voice, even though it quivers. 

"Listen y/n, I think he came back a few hours ago, but when he didn't find you at home he came banging on my door, asking me where you were. And he was drunk out of his mind, but he heard jihoon's voice and now he is not leaving. He keeps banging on the windows, and asking for his son, I don't know what to do. I kept calling you, and you didn't pick up. I'm going to call the police, but jihoon is not my child y/n, you have to come back right now" More shuffling, and a loud thudding sound cuts the call off, making your heart beat out of your chest. 

"Suzy??, suzy?!" No response. You look around in panic, meeting Heeseung's worried eyes. 

"Pants, can you lend me some pants please" you ask him, tears dripping down your face. You're panicking so hard right now, your fingers feel numb. Heeseung scrambles to his feet immediately, and noticing your shaking hands, he helps you inside them himself, folding them so they don’t restrict your movement. 

"Thank you, can you- you fret- can you please, please drop me to my house. I know I promised I'd let you fuck me but I really need-

His soft lips interrupt your rant while he kisses you tenderly and cups your face, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs "address, baby" 

And this time, you tell him your real one. 

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You keep dialing Suzy's number the entire ride home but she doesn't pick up. If Heeseung hears you quietly sobbing, he doesn't mention it. You guide him to your house, and are thankful for the distraction his fingers provide as he draws random patterns on your thigh with his free hand.

You don't believe in God, you never have, but somehow , in this moment, you pray to whatever power is out there, if there is any, to keep your brother safe. You don't care about anything else. Just keep your little love safe.

Heeseung doesn't make small talk, doesn't ask questions, and you find that so comforting, it makes you wanna sob your heart out in his car. 

The way he doesn’t look even slightly disgruntled by the state of your house or your neighborhood makes you want to tell him all about that you've been going through while he says nothing at all. It's been so long since someone listened to you, you know, just for the sake of listening, to take some burden off of your heavy heart. 

You don't question it when heeseung gets out of his car with you, letting him follow you to Suzy's house. You don't even trust heeseung like that, but knowing that he's right behind gives you a silent strength.

Your dad's slumped on the front porch, one baseball bat clutched in one hand, and rubbing his face with the other. To say that he disgusts you, would be an understatement. How could you have ever loved this man? You haven't seen your father in so long, he got lost behind the violent person with red raging eyes a very long time ago. This man in front of you isn't your dad. 

His bleary eyes fall on you, and he instantly stumbles onto his feet, pointing the bat at you. 

"Where have you been you little whore" He hisses, his red eyes looking at you in pure hatred. 

"What do you want dad?" You ask, fighting away any shakiness that manages to creeps into your words. Your heart is beating fast, you need to make sure that jihoon is safe, but the lack of noise from inside the house scares you. 

"Where's my money?" He demands gruffly, taking a few steps towards you. You don't stumble back like you usually do, trying to hold your ground. 

"There's no money dad, there's nothing for you here" You quip. Your words seem to anger him more, his nostrils flare, and he points the bat at the house "bring that little bitch out, I know you're hiding him inside, if you won't make me money, he will" He spits, and you can't believe your ears, hot tears dribble down your cheeks, blurring your vision of him.

 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?? Have you got no amount of shame left in you? "

A yelp resounds from your throat when your father grabs hold of your wrist all of a sudden, pulling you close, boring his threatening eyes into yours. You wince at the smell of alcohol on his breath. 

"The fuck did you just say to me you little slut- he twists your arm, making you cry out in pain, you try pulling yourself away but he only tightens his hold on your arm- do u want me to break your ribs like I did with your whore moth- it all happens so fast, the grip on your arm loosens, a scream rips through the air, your dad falls to the ground. And then there's silence. 

You stare in disbelief at the boy straddling over your dad's unconscious body, wiping his bloody knuckles on his jeans. He punches your dad's face twice more, then kicks him to roll him over while he stands back up. 

At that point he turns to you, and you start sobbing. Heeseung is about to open his mouth to apologize for punching your dad unconscious, panicking that he did something wrong when you're pulling him into you, smashing your lips against his, kissing him with all that you've got. 

Heeseung is taken aback, his eyes widening when your taste invades his mouth, but he recovers almost instantly and pulls you close to his body, kissing you back just as hard. The kiss is wet and salty because of how much you're crying, but he couldn't care less.

 

You're both breathing heavily when you pull apart, eyes widening when you hear Suzy's door click open. Jihoon! 

You leave Heeseung standing on the porch, running to suzy when she comes outside "jihoon?" you question, your voice out of breath. 

She glances at Heeseung, and then at your dad, before looking back at you.

"He fell asleep while crying, I think he got one of his seizures y/n, all the shouting really scared him" she explains, and you cup your mouth, more tears prick your eyes, feeling your heart break all over again. 

It's been years since your brother got his last seizure attack because of trauma triggers. You have managed to keep him away from all his triggers, except this time. All because you were selfish, and wanted to stay the night away. Your life has to be one long, never ending sick joke. 

"where's he?" you ask, your voice feeble, you're afraid you'll start screaming if you aren't careful. 

"In the spare bedroom, go, I'll take care of him" She says, motioning towards your dad. 

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The time span between carrying your brother home to tuck his sleeping figure inside his buzz Light year sheets, while suzy takes care of informing the police and calling the ambulance for your unconscious, and injured dad is a blur for you. 

Heeseung doesn't get in trouble because you vouch for the attack being in self defense, your dad's history of abuse and drinking helps your case. 

After all cars are gone, and you finally breathe a sigh of relief, you realize that Heeseung is still here. Your heart feels full when you look at his unruly appearance, and you don't want to admit the yearning you feel for him right at this moment. He's the first person besides suzy to witness the shit show that is your life, and you wonder why isn't gone yet. 

And then you remember. Right, your virginity. How can you forget. 

You find him leaning against your kitchen counter, hands in pocket as he waits for you. He looks so out of place standing in your small kitchen, the light bulb swinging above his head makes his skin glow, and you can't help but be attracted towards him like a moth drawn to the flame. His eyes find yours as soon as you round the corner to your kitchen, and they stay. This look is different.

He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You take tentative steps towards his figure, fiddling with the long sleeves of his shirt that you're wearing. You don't even get to open your mouth before he's pulling you closer to him, his one hand wrapping around your waist while he cups your cheek with the other, swallowing the gasp that escapes your lips at the sudden touch. 

He kisses you like you're the air that he breathes, his tongue dipping and tasting all crevices of your warm mouth. You fist the shirt on his chest, and tilt your head to deepen the kiss, whining into his famished mouth. 

The kiss is everything you've ever wanted. It's not rushed, but it's needy. The passion dripping from his lips renders you boneless, and you lean further into him. The exhaustion seeping inside your bones seems to get heavy with each languid stroke of his tongue, and you don't realize when the tears start falling down your cheeks. He doesn't pull back tho, just trails his kisses upto your face, swallowing your tears as he pulls you flush to his body, dissipating any ounce of space that was left between you two. 

When you pull apart, your mouths are connected by a string of saliva, hot pants escaping your chests. He rests his forehead against yours, and caresses your face by the back of his hand, cooing when you bite your lower lip to stop the tears from falling again. 

You're exhausted. You're dead tired and his touch seems to be your undoing, setting all your emotions free, the severity of all the events that happened in the last twelve hours hitting you all at once. 

"Let me fuck your pain away, baby" He whispers, and in that moment, you can't seem to resist falling into the familiar comfort of delusion. You know that once you let him fuck you, he'll lose interest, but you need it now. You want to bask in his affection and call it love. You want to experience feeling loved and wanted before it's inevitably snatched away from you. 

"fuck me" you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when he groans and leans into your mouth again. Heeseung feels like a fucking jerk, but seeing you so helpless, and in dire need of his touch makes him delirious.

 

This is a new feeling. This desire to be needed by you.

He would not admit it to you, but he relishes in the fact that you're alone, and in so much pain. It makes it easier for him to show you how much you need him. He wants you to keep him, crave him like he does you. 

You gasp into his mouth when he hoists you up into his arms, your tiny figure melting into his touch. He loves it, loves how easy you are. 

He might be taking advantage of your pain and vulnerability, but he only wants you to want him just as badly as every bone in his body wants you. 

Your back hits the couch, and you stare up at him with wide eyes as he hovers over you, a lustful glint in them that drives him nuts. Your hands bunch up the shirt on his chest, and you pull him back into you again, not getting enough of his lips on yours. 

You love how dizzy his touches are making you, your body arching into him when he gropes your curves, his hands all over you.

"Wanna see you naked" He whispers, and your heart plummets into your stomach. A sinking feeling beginning to form a pit inside your chest. No, it can't be happening again. 

He must see the hesitance on your face, because he's caressing your cheek again, so softly and so gently, you almost mistake it for genuine care, but you know better. 

"What is it?" He asks, planting few pecks on your pouty and swollen lips. 

You twiddle with the button of his shirt, and avoid eye contact. 

"C-can we turn the lights off? looking at me might turn you off" you manage to mumble, the words burning your throat on their way out .However, you're done lying to yourself. 

Heeseung doesn't say anything, and you peek up to see his face. He is looking at you like you've grown two heads. It makes you feel self conscious, your ears burning in humiliation, feeling like you ruined the mood already. 

"You're beautiful" He blurts, eyes still fixed on you in disbelief, he can't fathom you thinking such a thing about yourself. Him? Getting turned off by you? He has not heard a more ridiculous thing in his life before.

Your eyes snap up to him at his words and you furrow your brows in irritation.

"You don't have to lie to get inside my pants I al-"

"I've jerked off to your face" He cuts you off. Your mouth splutters like a fish as you blink up at him, trying to process his words. 

He's still staring at you, eyes dark and deep.

"Jerked off just to your face. Not even your body. you're so beautiful I get hard by the mere thought of you" 

You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Only Heeseung can say such things and make them feel like a compliment. You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips, and you hide your face into your hands.

"God, you're unbelievable" you groan between your giggles, unknown to the fact that heeseung's currently losing his damn mind on top of you. In that moment he realises, that he's never made you laugh before. You have never looked up at him and giggled before. The sound shoots straight to his hardening cock and spreads a warm feeling inside of his chest. He can't believe how overwhelming this sudden emotion is, and he isn’t sure where this sudden influx of affection for you is coming from. However, there’s one thing heeseung’s sure about, and it’s the fact that he loves this sight more than he loves to see you crying. And that's saying a lot. 

He swallows thickly when you remove your hands from in front of your face, and smile up at him, chewing on your lower lip as the blush on your cheeks darkens

"This might be most romantic thing someone has ever said to me" you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck again. 

Heeseung leans down to press soft kisses to your jaw, preventing you from seeing the softness in his eyes. He trails his kisses down towards your neck, loving the way your breath hitches. 

"Do you wanna hear the other romantic things I have to say about you?" He asks, mouthing at your collarbone, and you whine when he digs his teeth into your soft skin. 

"Y-yeah" you mewl, your body squirming as he squeezes your ass in one hand while he supports himself over you with the other. 

His hand travels inside your (his) shirt, touching your skin, caressing it. You bite on your lower lip, eyes fluttering when he reaches your bra covered breasts. Your nipples are already hard and pebbled, and you moan loudly when he pinches them. 

"fuck" He groans, your erotic sounds making him leak inside his jeans. 

He mouths hotly at the hollow of your neck, and squeezes your boobs harshly, making you cry out again. Fuck, he loves playing with your body like this. 

You tangle your fingers inside his hairs, your toes curling at the attention he's giving to your chest. 

Heeseung sits up to unbutton your shirt, manhandling your body to take it off of you in a lust driven frenzy. As soon as it’s off of your body, he instantly goes back to squeezing your soft flesh again, watching with dark eyes how your soft skin turns red in his hold.

"Ah-heeseung" you whimper, feeling exposed at how he greedily drinks in your uncovered skin. 

He unbuttons your (his) jeans, and slides them off of your legs in one go, discarding them on the floor. He bites his lower lip, his eyes running across your uncovered body, and he can feel how hard and heavy he is inside his jeans. He fights the urge to squeeze his junk when you bite on your finger, doe eyes staring up at him, your body squirming as he gropes you. 

You're so naively sexy, your innocence drives him batshit insane. 

"I almost jerked off to you while changing your clothes you know? you just looked too fucking sexy to resist" He grunts, his fingers running over your stretch marks. Before you have a chance to feel self conscious about the fact that he's seen your body before, or feel apprehensive about his touch on your stretch marks, he leans down to kiss them. You gasp when he runs his hot tongue over them, kissing and licking like he can't help it. He traces your panty line with the tip of his tongue, hands groping your thighs mercilessly.

He's so close to your pussy, and your face burns.

 

"H-heeseung" You squeak out, and the boy instantly climbs up your body to come face to face with you, pecking you softly as he hums. 

"I-i haven't shaved" you tell him shyly, your ears heating up in embarrassment. But you need to tell him now before he recoils in disgust later. 

What you don't expect is the way he chuckles, leaning down to nibble on your cheek while his hand cups your breast again, squeezing and groping. 

"you worry about the things that don't even cross my mind baby- he pecks your nose and stares into your eyes- you think I'll care about some hairs when your warm pussy is right there? that I'll be able to think about anything other than sucking and fucking when my dick's about to fall off?"

Your face is so hot you can feel the heat radiating off of you. Though his words are vulgar, and so obscene, they do placate your worries for a bit. 

Keyword : a bit.

You're still apprehensive about him being down there. What if you smell bad? and taste even worse? 

You gasp when he roughly pulls your boobs out of your bra cups, and takes one in his wet mouth. You tug on his hairs, and moan when he bites your nipple too harshly, the sensation making you arch your back into his mouth. 

You don't notice when his hand travels between your legs, but a deep whine falls from your lips when he runs a finger over your panty clad slit. 

"you're fucking dripping baby" He groans into your flesh that he still has in his mouth, sucking and biting both of your boobs till they sting. 

You try to close your thighs around his hand but he tsks in faux disappointment, and parts them again, trailing his kisses down towards your centre, leaving no portion of your skin unmarked. 

He kisses your pussy from above your panties, slurpimg your wetness through the sheer material, burying his nose into your slit.

"fuck baby, taste so good" he groans, rubbing his nose in your wetness, tracing the outline of your pussy with his mouth. You bite your finger, and squirm in his touch, feeling yourself dripping more. 

He trails his kisses down to your inner thighs, making you squeal when he digs his teeth into your sensitive flesh. He chuckles into your skin, and does the same to your other thigh. He seems to be enjoying this more than you are. He leaves more bites marks up your leg before burying his face between your legs again, making your thighs close around his head. 

The action makes something in him snap, and heeseung sits up on his hunches, stares straight into your eyes while he licks his lips for your juices, and starts sliding your panties down your smooth legs.

“want you in my mouth before we fuck”

Your breath hitches when his heavy lidded eyes snap down to your nakedness, and he closes his eyes to groan. 

"shit" He curses, parts your legs open, and dives straight between your legs, not even bothering to take off your panties all the way off as it hangs on your ankle obscenely. He sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth,and you moan so loudly it has you slapping your palm over your own. The overwhelming sensation makes your eyes roll back, only ever feeling your own fingers down there, it's a heady feeling to feel someone else.

 

You tangle your fingers in his hairs, tugging harshly when he slurps your wetness, parting your pussy open with his fingers,and thrusting his tongue inside your virgin hole,running it all over your vulva like a starved man.

 

You thrash in his hold, a shiver running down your spine when his nose bumps your clit, and he starts applying pressure, rubbing it back and forth. The obscene squelch that you can hear from between your legs has your face burning, you can't believe how wet you are. You aren't ready for the sudden feeling of his finger sliding inside your pussy, and you scream. Heeseung looks up at you from between your legs, and increases his movement, eyes dark as they watch you lose yourself to pleasure. 

"How does that feel? " He asks, voice so deep it makes your pussy throb. 

You moan, and nod your head rapidly "s-so good" you whimper when he dives down to suck on your clit again. The combined feeling of his fingers and mouth pushes you closer to your orgasm. 

"Yeah baby? Your pussy's so tight, can't wait to get in there, wanna feel good too" He groans, thrusting a second finger inside your warm cavity, and probing inside your gummy walls in come hither motion that makes you mewl. 

"So wet" He mumbles, licking into your pussy again. And God do you taste addicting, heeseung can spend the whole day buried in between your legs if you would give him a chance. The way your walls flutter around his fingers has him leaking copious amount of precum in his jeans, and he has never been so turned on before. 

"pleasee" You moan, and he's crawling up to you again, his lips capturing yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He fucks you with his fingers rapidly, lust filled eyes watching in rapt attention at how your eyes flutter shut, and your body arches into him, so ready to getting lost in pleasure. 

He curses under his breath as he watches how you grind your hips on his fingers, trying to chase the pleasure they’re giving you

"yeah? Gonna cum and make a mess baby? " He asks into your mouth, swallowing your moan, and licking the drool escaping your lips. 

You nod your head and dig your nails into his neck, holding onto him for your life. Heeseung ruts his hard on against your thigh as he watches you come undone on his fingers alone, moaning his name unintelligibly. Watching you cum is the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he decides.

"Cum on me, make yourself feel good" he sighs, the pleasure filled expression on your face has him close to cumming untouched. You gyrate your hips while his fingers get covered in your juices, drenching his palm as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You sigh out in relief, coming down from your high, your hold loosens on his neck and you squirm while you watch him sucking his fingers, tasting your juices. It's so hot, you don't even realize when you lean in. His lips meet yours and you moan upon tasting your cum, sucking on his tongue like he sucks yours. 

"Made you feel so good yeah?" He asks, his voice hoarse in desire, and you nod, pushing yourself into him again. He wraps his arms around your body, and unhooks your bra, finally taking it off of your body, and discarding it somewhere. 

"My turn" He grunts. 

You rub your thighs together while he unbuckles his belt, ogling your naked body like a pervert. Your eyes widen when he pulls his boxers down unceremoniously, just enough to let his dick flop out. 

It's bigger in person,even bigger than you remember while touching him and you whine. There's no way that can fit inside you. His eyes darken as he strokes his cock, fisting it to the sight of your naked body lying so helplessly, ready for the taking. And God does he want to take you. 

If you weren't a virgin, he would have been pounding your hole by now, but as much as he's impatient, he wants to make this experience good for you too.

You're sucking on your finger again, your eyes fixed on how he moves his palm up and down his shaft, the real life version makes you drip more than the video he sent did. 

Heeseung hovers over your body again, and grabs your hand, pulling out your finger from your mouth. "No hiding your sounds from me, wanna hear you loud and clear while I fuck you stupid" He growls, and you squirm under his gaze. 

You yelp when you feel him running his dickhead against your slick pussy, wetting it in your juices for a smooth slide. You dig your nails into his shoulders, staring up at him with your big doe eyes as you utter the words which make Heeseung finally snap.

"p-please don't make it hurt" your voice is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, and God, does he want to hurt you. He wants to roughly push himself inside till there's nothing but tears of pain and pleasure running down your pretty face. He wants to make you scream, and show you how pain only heightens the pleasure. 

You're so naive, looking up at him, trusting him, but heeseung is lost in his dark desires and pushes in without a warning. You turn him on so badly.  You scream at the way his length bullies itself inside your tight hole, scraping against your walls and your body feels like it's being split in half. Tears blur your vision and you push against his chest, sobbing through the pain that makes you want to run away. It's too much. 

"h-hurts please-oh-" his hips push inside and then he's balls deep into you, groaning in satisfaction while you scream again. The feeling of your hymen tearing apart makes you sob uncontrollably, and you try to angle your hips away from him. He doesn’t fit, he’s gonna tear you apart.

Heeseung holds your hips in his bruising grip, and starts moving in and out. He's too damn turned on to think about anything else other than how good your virgin pussy feels around his dick.  "Stay still baby, let me feel good" He grunts, pulling out of your hole to the hilt, and then pushing inside again. In and out. In and out. His hot pants fall onto your wet cheeks. Heeseung reaches down to rub on your clit, relishing in the wet warmth of your pussy. It feels more pleasurable for him when you start getting impossibly wet.   Soon enough, Your pain filled sobs start to subside, and pleasure filled sobs start to leave your lips instead. 

That's when he starts fucking in earnest. Once he hears you moan in pleasure, heeseung lets go of all his inhibitions, and straight up pounds into you. 

"Fuck yeah baby, so fucking tight for me" he groans, snapping his hips against you at a rapid pace. His balls smack against your ass every time he pushes in, and the skin slapping sounds make your head throb in pleasure.

You didn't know sex could feel so good.   "Heeseung please, oh my god" You moan when his dick rubs against your sweet spot, his hot pants fall on your mouth while he slots his lips against yours in imitation of a kiss

"Yeah? Just like that?" He asks, his own eyes rolling back when you clench around him. So deliciously tight.

The slide inside is so deep and so wet, it makes his hips pick up speed. 

"Warm little cunt, waited so long to get inside" he groans, biting on your lower lip, and grinding his pelvis against yours. 

The sheer ecstasy running through your veins at the way his cock makes out with your cervix, makes you thrust up your hips against him. You buck into his hold, pressing your body closer, rubbing your chest against his clothed one. It's then that you realize that he's still wearing clothes. 

Heeseung curses under his breath when you whine and tug at his shirt.

"You wanna feel me naked baby?" he asks, running his hands over your curves as he pounds into your warm hole. It's too good to stop. 

You nod and tug on his shirt again, trying to get closer to him.

"Fuck" Heeseung mutters, and sits back on his hunches, his hips still grind into you while he strips himself off of his clothes. He pulls himself out of you for a split second to discard his jeans and boxers on the floor, then he's thrusting into you again. 

"This is so much fucking better" He moans, loving how your naked body arches into his own, rubbing yourself against him so desperately. The delicious friction of your grinding sexes makes you both delirious in pleasure. Heeseung digs his fingers into the fat of your waist, and buries his face inside the crook of your neck, kissing and moaning along it while his thrusts become merciless. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and throw your head back, exposing more skin for him to dig his teeth into.  The obscene way your naked bodies buck and thrust against each other to reach pleasure high is a sight to behold. The skin slapping, and wet squelching sounds fill up the space between your heated bodies, and you never want this feeling to stop. 

"tight fucking cunt, so good, wanna keep fucking till my dick aches" His filthy words travel deep inside your core, and warmth spreads inside your womb, the knot starting to form in your stomach. 

"oh my god" You moan when he slows his hips into a slow grind, hitting all the right spots inside your swollen pussy. 

"Yeah? fuck yourself on my dick like a slut, grind your virgin little pussy on my meat" He growls, coming up to capture your lips in his own, groaning into your mouth when you dig your nails painfully inside his flesh, enough to draw blood. 

The sweat drips down your bodies, as you rut against each other in pure pleasure. You moan into heeseungs mouth as he languidly licks against your open cavity, sucking on your tongue, and exchanging spit. 

The pace of his thrusts fasten, and he pounds you into the couch, fucking into you like his life depends on it. Your words are reduced to mere moans and babbles, your tongue lolling out at how good he feels.

"gonna cum inside this cunt baby, gonna let me fill you up right? flood your insides with my fuck cream?" You nod in a lust filled haze, and heeseung licks the saliva that pools in the corner of your mouth.

" Yeah? Real deep baby? Fuck-so fucking good Jesus" He growls, his spit and sweat falling into your mouth as he starts rutting into you like an animal. He can feel himself getting closer. the knot in your stomach snaps when he presses his palm into your lower stomach to trace his outline. You gasp into his mouth, and your body convulses uncontrollably.

"Fuck yeah, god you're gonna make me cum, god im- his hips grind a few times inside your pussy, and then he's stilling inside of you, the tight clench of your pussy pushing him over the edge, shooting his thick cum inside your womb. 

It feels so good that Heeseung keeps moving inside you till you whine and cry out in overstimulation. You're grateful when he listens, and pulls out, but the very next second, he's getting down there and burying his face between your legs again, slurping your combined juices from your pussy. Your toes curl at the feeling, and you can't help but open your mouth when he comes up to slot his cum filled one against yours. It's nasty, but you can't stop licking into him, tasting your mixed release together. 

"Fuck, you're nasty" He chuckles, finally turning your body around, and wrapping you into his embrace. 

For the first time in your life, you fall asleep nuzzled into a warm and comforting body against you.

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Heeseung has always prided himself in the fact that he doesn’t get attached to people easily, doesn’t feel certain emotions until he allows himself to. He’s not a good person, he’s always known this, that’s the reason why he has always kept himself at a distance.

Watching. Observing.

Nothing in his life is unpredictable, heeseung works according to the plan, always predicting and preparing himself for situations that can happen. That’s just how he operates.

Watching. Observing. Executing.

You, however, caught him off guard. Heeseung was never ready for you to barge in his life the way that you did.

You think you know him from third semester but heeseung knows you from way before that. The first time he’d seen you was on the very first day of college, waiting right outside the registrar office, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you stepped aside for people to pass.

There was something about you that stuck with Heeseung. He couldn't figure out what it was no matter how much he thought about it but you soon became a constant itch at the back of his mind.

It wasn't like you were strikingly pretty. Heeseung had been surrounded by beautiful women all his life. Almost desensitized to extravagant beauty. It all seemed vague to him.

You were not extraordinarily pretty, no.

But you were enchanting. it was the type of pretty that stuck with you, that stayed with you, the type of pretty that might not capture your attention in the first glance but the second or third glance might have you hooked; the type of pretty that was made up of hesitant smiles and solemn gazes and fidgeting hands.

Heeseung watched you from afar for a long time, observing, learning. That was until he saw an opportunity to be in the same lecture as you. That’s when he started executing.

And then you made him fail. At his own game.

Heeseung’s sickness identified and craved yours, rendering him powerless when he realized that maybe,you were even sicker than him, a thousand times more depraved. You just didn’t know it yet.

He didn’t realize when you became the very thing he breathes, carving yourself a home inside the darkest parts of his heart.

Ever since he fucked you into your sheets, his craving for you has increased tenfold. He is way past pretending that you are some stupid bet, or a mere name on the list. Seeing you vulnerable, and yet so strong , made something shift in him. He's always been sick in desire for you, but over the past few months, you have managed to infiltrate your way inside his brain. 

"How's the mission " Cherries to pop" going for you man?" Jake's voice interrupts his thoughts, and he doesn't have to think twice about his answer, eyes fixated on your slumped figure as he replies

"Take her off the list, I won" 

Numerous gasps are heard around him, sunghoon laughs in shock, eyes meeting Jake's in disbelief "you can't be serious, was she any good? " He asks, nervousness creeping in his voice, because heeseung does look serious. 

Heeseung turns his eyes towards sunghoon, face void of any recognizable emotion

"the bet's over. I don't want to talk about it, but if I see any of you fuckers around her after this, it's going to get bloody " He warns, sweeping his eyes over the shocked faces of the boys around him. And with that, you are taken off the list forever. 

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You hear the whispers, you aren't deaf, but something inside you disassociated when you woke up in the evening after losing your virginity. Cold and alone. 

Heeseung had cleaned your body and clothed it before he left, but not having him near stung more than you ever thought it would. It was to be expected tho, wasn’t it? He got what he wanted, there was no reason to stay.

"can't believe heeseung really did it"

"Man, she doesn't look like she must have been a good fuck"

"A win is a win"

You don't dare look up the entire day, ignoring all the folded papers that fall beside your leg. Curiosity doesn't get the better of you, and you don't pick them up to read what's inside. It just doesn't seem to matter anymore. All this buzz will die down in a week, and you will finally resort back to the dark corners, and shadows where people will no longer look at you, just past you. 

You don't dread the reality of your situation anymore, a small sigh leaving your lips as you gather your stuff, and walk past the inquisitive stares. 

Settling down at the farthest seat in the cafeteria gives you a sense of relief. This seat has been your safe space through all ups and down. The only constant in the chaos of your existence.

You're busy swirling your food around the plate when a sudden quiet falls over the cafeteria. All the chitter chatter and noise dies down. It's almost eerie. Eerie enough to finally make you look up to see what's wrong. Your eyes turn towards the entrance as you follow everyone's collective gaze, and what you see makes your heart plummet in your stomach.

It's Jay. But he's wearing a cap, his head slumped down as he makes his way towards his seat with an obvious limp, but it doesn't hide the black and blue wound blossoming around his left eye, several deep cuts on his lower lip, and scratches on his cheek. The high neck he's wearing sticks out like a sore thumb in mid July, and you wonder if there's more that he's trying to hide. You don't have to worry about facing him, looks like he's not going to be looking up anytime soon. 

Realization sets inside your throat like a lump, and you instinctively snap your gaze towards heeseung's table. His eyes are already on you when you find him. They're dark, and tender, if that's even possible. You feel like you're drowning in them. Your throat feels full, and your eyes burn the more that you look at him, and you can't help but follow your instinct to get out of here as soon as possible. It's too much. This sudden influx of emotion is too much for you. 

Murmurs follow your leave, but you don't stay behind to hear or care. Your steps are heavy and purposeful as you stride forward, away from everyone and everything. This feels like a fever dream. Why the fuck would Heeseung do that? Scratch that, how the fuck did he even find out?

But you know exactly how he found out. The location that you shared. It isn’t rocket science to figure out who lives nearby. Of course he knows. What confuses you is the fact that he cared enough to look it up and avenge you in his own sick way.Why does he even care?

You can feel a breakdown coming, and so without wasting time, you rush home in a frenzy. By the time you reach your threshold, your throat hurts, the tonsils burning in pain. Your body is begging for you to let it out, but you're a slave to your habits. Holding everything inside until it chokes your airway. 

You're tapping your leg frantically as you stir a spoon haphazardly in your coffee cup, swallowing down copious amounts of caffeine to push back the inevitable. You hate breakdowns, hate feeling so out of control and vulnerable. It shatters your facade, makes you come face to face with the pretty lies that you tell yourself. 

"It's going to be fine, you're fine"

But are you? 

A loud honking in your front yard makes you drop your cup, spilling all of its contents on your shoes, jumping back as you get startled out of your mind. 

Who the fuck?

You step over the mess and make your way to your front door, watching in disbelief as Heeseung's car idles in front of you. He's looking right at you from his window, and you wonder what is it about his eyes. There's something about his eyes and the way he looks at you. It makes you feel naked. Body and soul. It seems like he looks right through you, and you don't know if you like that. 

Your feet move on their own and he doesn’t even have to say anything. In no time, you find yourself sitting inside his car, your back against the expensive leather seats, while you play with the stray threads of your blouse. 

"What do you want now?" you ask, deciding to break the silence. It's only fair to stop beating around the bush and get this over with. Whatever this is.

"You" He answers almost immediately, making you scoff. You don't look at him but you can feel his gaze burning into you. 

"I'm not a virgin anymore Heeseung, you won, there’s nothing more that I can offer you" Your voice feels scratchy against your throat, and you wonder if it's because of the tears you keep pushing back. 

There's a heavy pause of silence, and then you hear him chuckle, almost in pity and contempt. 

"You don't get it do you?" He asks, voice laced with disbelief. 

When you don't look up, and don't respond, he laughs hollowly. 

"Ask me why I did that" He says, his tone a tad bit deeper now. It's a demand. "Ask me why I smashed pretty boy's face in" 

You swallow the lump in your throat, and close your eyes. Not now please. 

"Why" you whisper ask, almost inaudible if it wasn't for the pin drop silence in the car.

"because it gave me a sick satisfaction to see him in pain. I'm not sorry about how your old man ended up either. If I could, I would shoot both of their skulls open for putting their hands on you"

The anger and pure hatred in his voice makes a sob to rip through your chest, eyes finally snapping up to meet his. They're dark in anger, and disdain, and you wonder why he cares so much. You look over to his wounded knuckles which are turning white due to how tightly he’s gripping onto the steering wheel. The sight of his anger mirroring your own ignites a spark of recognition deep within you. The raw intensity of emotion emanating from Heeseung stirs something inside your vacant soul. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you feel seen. Validated. All this time, you had told yourself that you got what you deserve. You were fundamentally flawed, and all of this pain was your own fault.You never allowed yourself to be angry, burying the rage beneath your stoic facade, but seeing Heeseung angry for you makes your own walls crumble one by one.

"I want to cut open anyone who's ever hurt you baby, I want to be the only one who gets to hurt you" He declares.

You gape at him while tears run down the slope of your cheeks

"that's-that's not normal" you whisper, but his expressions don't crack, eyes wide and pupils dilated. In this moment, he looks insane, and it scares you how much you want to get lost in him.

"You don't need normal" he replies. 

His words hit heavy and get stuck inside your throat. You look away and wipe your tears, swallowing another bout of sobs threatening to escape your chest. The walls are cracking, the sound of them breaking and destructing can be heard as you let his words sink in. 

"Quit your part time job and let me take care of you. Your every need, I'll satisfy it. You won't even have to ask me for it and it will be done" He says, leaning forward, as if trying to make you see the reason in what he's saying.

You shake your head, eyes brimming with anger and tears as you stare right into his own.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I've always done it myself and I have managed to do it just fine, I don’t need you" you seethe, feeling rage at his implication that you can't hold your own. 

His expressions soften as he runs his eyes over your angry tears, his hand coming up to wipe them with his thumb. It’s pathetic how this small caress makes you lean into his touch. 

"No you don't. But I need you. I need to take care of you. I won’t be able to live with myself if I don't" He confesses. 

More tears run down your cheeks as sobs rip through your chest, and he continues to caress your face. 

"Is this a declaration of love?" you grouch through your physical grief, watching how his eyes gaze into yours, as if he wasn't expecting you to ask him that. 

"Does it have to be? I promise to keep you happy and protect you from all harm, should that not be enough?" 

You stare into his orbs and your heart skips a beat at the raw vulnerability you find there. He's just as scared as you, if not more. Turns out, you aren't the only one who is bad at confronting feelings. 

You crawl your way onto his lap, and he instantly wraps his arms around you, like you belong there. You take his hand into your own and press tender kisses onto his knuckles, and he watches you do it. Then you look up, and smile. That smile seems to be his undoing. Heeseung instantly leans down to kiss you fervently. You tangle your fingers in his hairs, kissing back just as deeply, and he groans into the kiss. The collision of your mouths is desperate, as if trying to convey all that's left unsaid. 

"It's enough" You mumble into his mouth, and he swallows your words greedily. 

[miyadollie]

R/CRUSHES : HOW DO I TALK TO MY OFFICE CRUSH ? sillyguy0813 says : dude just borrow a stapler

★ STARRING office worker lee jeno x fem reader ( ft. best friend jaemin ) ★ WORD COUNT 2.6k + 3OO bonus ★ CONTAINS co-workers to dating, fluff !! lee jeno being a cutie, jaemin is a menace to society, workplace romance, ★ MIYA SAYS 💗 this is my first time TRYING to write a long fic :3 pls give me any constructive criticism and feedback thank uu 🧘🏼‍♀️ . update : wow i absolutely dislike my writing here but its been rotting in drafts too long and i gave up on fixing this TT

it starts with a stapler.

one you’re not even sure belongs to you. maybe you bought it once during a sale, or someone left it at your desk during a particularly chaotic week, and it stayed. quietly claimed as yours.

the moment wasn't love at first sight, no grand declaration of love with bouquets or fireworks. just a quiet tuesday morning, your inbox overflowing, the boss increasing your headache by preponing your deadlines, the coffee machine on its last breath and the fluorescent lights above flickering slightly like they, too, were tired of this job. and then there’s him.

lee jeno. clean-cut. soft-spoken. the kind of guy who always says “excuse me” when passing behind you, even when there’s plenty of space. always dressed a little too well for your casual office. not flashy—never that—but tidy, crisp. thoughtful. one cubicle down, diagonal from yours. he’s been here a while. a familiar face in the sea of semi-familiar ones. you’ve never really talked but only ever exchanged the kind of polite nods reserved for coworkers who share nothing but recycled air and a breakroom.

until today. “could you pass the stapler?” you look up, startled slightly by the voice.

he’s leaning just slightly over the low partition separating your desks, eyes trained on the corner of your workspace where your lonely black stapler sits. he gives you a smile. not flashy. not flirtatious. just—nice. warm. gentle. you blink once. then reach for it. “thanks,” he says. you nod. he returns to his screen. that’s it. except… it isn’t. because the next day, he borrows a pen. the day after that, post-its. then tape. then scissors. always returning everything. always smiling. always saying thank you like he means it. and now you’re wondering. is this flirting? some kind of extremely office-safe, hr-friendly version of it? or are you just painfully, embarrassingly overthinking it? or maybe did you have an unspoken crush on him? not that you can be blamed. - lee jeno is attractive. undeniably so. you’ve seen him once—just once—rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down in the middle of summer, and you swear you forgot how to form a coherent sentence for ten straight minutes. defined forearms. slim but strong hands. that razor-sharp jawline, often tilted thoughtfully while reading something on his screen. dark lashes. deep voice. a gym guy, apparently—you overheard it once when he mentioned it to jaemin (you weren’t eavesdropping, you just… have really good ears). you haven’t initiated anything. neither has he. but those tiny moments? the ones that make your heart skip? they’re adding up

────

FRIDAY | 4:30 PM

“soo… still down to try that new restaurant?” jaemin asks one afternoon, casually leaning on your desk during lunch with a fresh iced americano in hand—probably his fifth for the day. “obviously,” you reply, eyes lighting up. “people have been absolutely glazing it online. thanks for getting us a table!” he grins. “see you at 9 then.” just as he turns, he spins back around like a cartoon character. “oh, also—jeno’s coming. hope that’s cool?” you freeze. your face says i’m fine, but your body language screams mayday. “y-yeah. sure. totally chill,” you manage. “coolcoolcoolcool,” you say, immediately turning your head towards your computer, and then you see your reflection on the blank empty screen. you were blushing. hard. jaemin smirks knowingly as he walks off. of course he knows. he always knows. after all, he’s the mastermind who told jeno to borrow your stapler in the first place. ────

8:55 PM

the restaurant is low-lit and warm, the kind of place where the wood-paneled walls muffle outside noise, and everything feels just a little more intimate than it should. you arrive five minutes early. out of habit, mostly. or nerves. you’re not sure which. jaemin’s already there, somehow sipping an iced americano even here, scrolling through his phone while pretending not to notice your presence with a dramatic sigh. “i told you 9:00,” he says, without looking up. “it’s 8:55.” “still early.” he glances at you now, then raises an eyebrow. “cute top.” you ignore his antics, he’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. typical jaemin. your heart is already thudding too loudly, because jeno walks in right after. black shirt, sleeves rolled up. clean slacks. a bit of cologne, subtle but warm. his hair’s tousled slightly, and his eyes light up just a little when they land on you. “hey,” he says, with that soft smile. you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just smile back, scooting over so he can sit across from you. the conversation is light, easy. mostly thanks to jaemin, who fills every awkward silence with a joke, a story, an embarrassing anecdote about your office. jaemin and jeno were friends in school, you get to know that night, they were benchmates. jaemin always chose jeno as his partner for every game, every lab, and jeno just liked his company, so he stood with him always. jaemin talks about you to jeno too—how you both were first day interns and hit it off over a conversation about which seventeen album is truly the best. but every now and then, you catch jeno looking at you. not staring. not even for long. just—looking. like he’s seeing something he's trying very hard not to see too obviously. “so,” jaemin says mid-way through dessert, smirking at you over his spoon, “funny how you two never end up talking at work.” you nearly choke. jeno shifts in his seat. “like, what’s with all the stapler borrowing, huh? no small talk?” you glare at him. he grins. “i’m just saying. feels like there’s some unspoken office tension.” jeno lets out a quiet laugh. and then, after a beat—he looks at you. “i guess i just… wanted a reason to talk,” he says, voice soft. and your breath catches. your heart is thudding again. you manage a smile, small and shy. trying not to mess up words or blabber out something nonsensical. “i noticed,” you reply. the space between you feels full, suddenly. full of every little interaction. every thank-you. every passing smile. jaemin stretches obnoxiously. “well, look at the time! i’ve got a meeting with my bed in ten.” you roll your eyes. “you’re so obvious.” he shrugs. “you’re welcome.” and just like that, he’s gone with the wind. leaving you and jeno, two half-finished desserts, and a quiet restaurant glowing gold in the late-night hush. “i can walk you home,” he says, gently. not pushing. just offering. and something in you says yes. to the walk. to this night. to the maybe that’s been building between you both. ────

10:45 PM

the night is cool, with a breeze just strong enough to lift the corners of your coat and make you tuck your hands into your sleeves. the restaurant’s warm glow fades behind you, replaced by the hush of quiet streets and dimly lit sidewalks. jeno walks beside you, hands in his pockets, his steps matching yours. neither of you says anything at first. the silence isn’t awkward. it’s... full. full of unspoken things. of nerves and glances and the way your arms brush every few seconds and both of you pretend not to notice. “jaemin talks too much,” jeno says eventually, voice low. you laugh softly. “it’s his specialty.” he hums in agreement, then adds, “he wasn’t wrong, though.” you glance at him, catching the way his eyes flicker to yours and then away again, like he’s testing the water, like he’s afraid of saying too much too fast. “i... didn’t really need the stapler that day.” your breath catches. “oh,” you manage, and you’re smiling now. you can’t help it. “i just... i guess i liked the idea of you looking at me. talking to me.” he pauses. “even if it was just a stapler.” you stop walking, just for a moment. jeno turns, realizing you’re no longer beside him. there’s a streetlight above him, casting shadows across his face and soft highlights in his hair. “you could’ve just said hi,” you whisper. he steps closer. barely. but enough to make the air between you buzz. “i know,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. every day. but you always looked so focused. and i didn’t want to ruin that.” your heart is a mess of drumbeats and warmth. “you wouldn’t have.” silence again. then he says, barely audible, “could i maybe get your number... just for office related stuff, of course.” you nod, because your voice has already betrayed you too many times tonight. a soft smile tugs at his lips. the quiet kind. the kind you know he saves for only a few people. he walks you all the way to your apartment. and when he says goodbye, it’s not a hug. not a kiss. just a quiet “goodnight” and a look that lingers longer than it should. but your heart knows. it knows everything. ────

SATURDAY | 9:00 AM

the next day, the office is just waking up. it always feels colder in the morning—half because of the ac blasting too early, half because everyone’s too busy chasing caffeine to talk. desks are still half-empty. monitors glow. the printer sputters. someone sneezes. a mug clinks. you step in, trying to hide the stupid smile that’s been stuck to your face since last night. your coat is too warm for indoors but your hands are cold, so you hold your coffee tighter. and then you see it. your desk. something’s different. sitting neatly on top of your keyboard is a brand-new stapler. blue, shiny, absolutely unnecessary. you freeze. right beside it, a yellow post-it. his handwriting. neat. almost too neat. “thought you could use one that wasn’t cursed.     —jeno :)” you almost laugh. it’s such a him thing to do—dry humor disguised as helpfulness. but your heart? it’s fluttering like it’s stuck in a romcom scene, an angelic choir singing along in tandem. you reach out and pick up the stapler.you didn’t even need one nor were you going to use one. but you want to keep this one forever. cherish it. maybe even pass it on as an heirloom.

just then, you hear someone clear their throat. “new office romance i should know about?” you don’t even need to turn around. jaemin. of course. loud, nosy, iced-americano jaemin. “shut up,” you say instantly, trying to sound bored. your cheeks are already heating up. but he walks past you, grinning like the devil, a bounce in his step like he’s in on the joke you’re still figuring out. and then—your gaze drifts. to the cubicle across. there he is. jeno. typing. or pretending to. his posture is the same—back straight, eyes on the screen—but his fingers are still on the home row keys, just gliding about. and when he feels your eyes, he glances up. It's brief, barely a second. but he smiles. like last night wasn’t just dinner. like it meant something.

a few hours later, a message pops up.

jeno lee “did the new one pass inspection?”

you “it’s still under review by the council. but i think they approve ;)”

jeno lee “let me know if it jams. i’ll personally fix it.”

you smile. a full smile this time. the kind that makes you reach for your coffee, lean back in your chair, and breathe in like something in your world has shifted.

jeno 💗 “what’s your go-to coffee order?”

you “anything except that poison jaemin drinks every day. ‘i like my coffee as dark as my soul’ ahh guy.”

jeno 💗 “haha.” “noted.”

the next morning there’s a cup of coffee on your desk, with yet another post-it note. “it’s the new specialty at a cafe near my place. i thought you’d like it :)”

that was truly the best coffee you had ever tasted. and maybe he started getting it for you every day. ────

WEDNESDAY | 9:00 PM

it's another day at the office. rain taps gently on the windows, a soft drumbeat to the silence of overworked employees and abandoned coffee mugs. you’re still at your desk & so is he. the fluorescent lights overhead are dimmer than usual, humming low like they’re tired too. you stretch your back, glancing at the clock. 9:04 pm. “still here?” comes his voice. you look up to see jeno leaning on the edge of his cubicle wall, sleeves rolled up, tie a little loosened. “so are you,” you shoot back. he smiles. “want company for the walk back?” you nod before your brain catches up.

the streetlights blur against the wet pavement, reflecting like oil paint smudged across the road. jeno’s shoulder brushes yours every few seconds—neither of you move away. he talks about the weird way jaemin eats ramen. you laugh. you tell him about your favorite childhood cartoon. he says he watched it too, and suddenly it’s three blocks later and you’re still talking. at a red light, you both stop. he glances down at you. you glance up. it’s a pause so charged you swear the rain quiets. “...you looked really pretty today,” he says suddenly. his voice isn’t confident or smooth—he says it like a secret. you don’t respond right away. just tuck your hair behind your ear, your face heating. he notices. the light turns green and you simply walk on. on reaching your apartment building you stop at the steps. he’s still holding the umbrella. you don’t say anything. he doesn’t either. there’s that moment again—that pause like the world might tilt if either of you moves. “i’m really glad you came to dinner that night,” he finally says, voice quieter than before. “been wanting to talk to you properly for months.” you blink. “...really?” jeno chuckles. “you had the office’s only decent stapler. of course i had to make a move.” you laugh—nervous and shy and full of everything you’ve been holding back. he takes a step closer. just one. not too much. “but also,” he adds, and this time his voice is a little more sure, “i like you. not just the lunch break, passing-notes kind. the kind where i want to sit and mindlessly watch silly romcoms with you, the kind where i want to walk you home every day and make sure you had dinner. the kind where - " he goes on. but words fall on deaf ears. you feel your heart clench, sweet and sharp. you’re about to respond when— “...so, if you’re okay with it,” he continues, scratching the back of his neck, “can i officially take you out sometime? like, not just coffee machine and post-it flirting. a real date.” you blink. once. twice. your face is warm. your chest feels like it’s glowing. “...yes.” you don’t even hesitate. his smile is soft. wide. genuine. and when he hands you the umbrella and waves goodnight, walking back with his hands in his pockets and a quiet bounce in his step. you think, maybe this started with a stapler. but it’s gonna end with something a lot more permanent. ──── BONUS : FEW WEEKS LATER | 2:00 PM

you, jeno, and jaemin were perched on the edge of the rooftop, paper lunchboxes balanced on your laps, chinese takeout - courtesy of jeno. the breeze is nice, the sky a little overcast, and jaemin's halfway through an enthusiastic rant about the company’s new vending machine layout.

“and like .. why did they move the green tea to the bottom row? what kind of criminal.. oh, thanks man.” he says as jeno hands him a napkin mid-rant, like muscle memory.

you say while giggling, “you guys are like an old married couple.”

jeno chokes on his rice. you pat his back helpfullly , still giggling.

jaemin just shrugs. “what can i say? i raised him well.”

jeno glares at him. mouthing ' stop. talking.' he knew jaemin could slip up any moment. for he always did.

jaemin does not stop talking.

“i mean, not to brag, but if it weren’t for me, he’d still be hovering awkwardly near your desk pretending he needed your stapler.”

you blink. “wait. what?”

jeno drops his chopsticks.

jaemin freezes. realizes.

“oh..." he mutters.

your jaw drops. “waitwaitwait. you told him to borrow my stapler?”

“in my defense,” jaemin says, holding up both hands, “i was just trying to save him from dying of heart failure every time you walked past. it was either that or fake a paper jam crisis.”

jeno is silent. fully hiding behind his lunchbox now.

you slowly turn to him. “is this true?”

“…maybe,” he mumbles.

you snort, trying to hold in your laughter. “oh my god. so all this time..”

“don’t act like it wasn’t genius!” jaemin interrupts. “you’re welcome, by the way. this whole slow-burn coffee shop romcom office love story? all me.”

jeno groans. “can i push him off the roof.”

you lean into jeno’s shoulder, grinning. “you should’ve just said hi.”

he sighs. “i wanted to. but every time i tried, you were always typing so fast. and glaring at your screen like it personally insulted your ancestors.”

you snort. “fair.”

jaemin raises his water bottle. “to true love, born from borrowing office supplies.”

jeno snatches it from him and takes a sip without asking. you think that’s revenge enough. read more ❤︎ please like, reblog and let me know your reviews (๑>◡<๑) this work is a piece of fiction and is not intended to reflect the real personalities, actions, or beliefs of the individuals portrayed. the idols mentioned are used purely as fictional characters for storytelling purposes. no harm, disrespect, or objectification is intended. everything written here is entirely imaginative and not based on real-life events or relationships.

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐚

request: OPEN

pairing: drew starkey x you ft brooke starkey

summary: when you and brooke decide to pull a prank on drew during a casual saturday lunch at his house, it’s all in good fun. drew’s protective streak as both a big brother to brooke and a boyfriend to you has always been one of his most endearing and amusing qualities. so, when you drop a casual bombshell about having a “male waxer” at the spa, drew’s reaction is priceless. shock, confusion, and hilariously protective instincts take over as he tries to process this unexpected bit of news.

warning(s): english is not my native language. light humor, playful pranks, and drew’s classic overprotective antics, no use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are very much appreciated. please be nice, thank you and enjoy.

Drew was in high spirits as he set the table for lunch, a relaxed grin on his face. He’d spent so many months on set for Outer Banks, and it was clear he was thrilled to unwind with the people he cared most about. Little did he know, you and Brooke were about to test just how protective he could get.

As you and Brooke shared a mischievous look across the table, you kicked off the prank.

“Hey, Brooke,” you began casually, glancing at Drew to see if he was listening, “thanks for recommending that spa the other day! It was, uh… an experience.”

“Oh, you finally went!” Brooke said, playing along perfectly.

“How was it? I told you they’re really good, right?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, they assigned me a guy for the wax. Super professional and all, but, you know, unexpected.”

Drew’s fork froze halfway to his mouth, his eyes snapping to you, wide with surprise.

“Wait… a guy? Like, for… the wax?” He looked genuinely baffled, trying to process this information.

You fought so hard keep your expression neutral, nodding casually.

“Yeah, he was great at it, honestly. Didn’t feel a thing. Super smooth process.”

Drew’s face morphed from confusion to full-on disbelief. He put his fork down slowly, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words.

“Wait… you mean… like a full wax? By a… guy? That’s even legal?”

You shrugged, pretending not to notice his growing panic. “Yeah! Brooke goes there too. And of course it was legal”

Brooke jumped in, barely able to suppress her grin.

“Oh, yeah, I get a guy a few time. They’re just more efficient, you know? Totally professional.”

Drew’s jaw practically dropped. He looked from Brooke to you, then back to Brooke, struggling to comprehend this new reality.

“Wait, Brooke… you, too? Both of you… by some random guy?”

You could see the protectiveness flaring in his eyes. Drew was always so protective of both of you, and he looked like he was about to burst with a mix of confusion, disbelief, and was that a hint of jealousy? not sure.

“Yeah, babe, it’s not a big deal,” you added, feigning nonchalance as you twirled your fork in your pasta.

“He was a total pro, super respectful.”

Drew’s eyes narrowed.

“Respectful or not, that’s still… strange, right?” He looked at Brooke, hoping she’d agree with him.

“I mean, you don’t think that’s, like… kind of weird?”

Brooke shook her head, acting entirely unbothered. “Nope. Honestly, it’s easier you know they don’t make a big deal out of anything, and they’re more… what’s the word; thorough.”

Drew looked absolutely bewildered, his eyes flicking between you and Brooke as if waiting for one of you to reveal it was all a joke.

“Wait… thorough? What… what does that even mean? And how is that not weird?” He turned to you, looking betrayed.

“And why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile.

“I mean, Drew, it’s a spa treatment, not a big deal. It’s not like I’d come home and say, ‘Hey, I got waxed by a guy today.’ with a very proud face on.”

“But maybe you should have!” Drew said, crossing his arms with a pout. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“Oh, come on,” Brooke teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Don’t be so overprotective, Drew. It’s just a wax.”

Drew’s face was priceless with half annoyed, half helplessly confused.

“I’m not being overprotective, I’m just… I mean… come on!”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely baffled.

“This is just… I can’t believe both of you think this is totally fine.”

You and Brooke exchanged a glance, both struggling to keep from bursting out in laughter.

“Oh, Drew,” you sighed, leaning over to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“He’s a professional. I didn’t even feel anything, it was so quick and easy.”

“‘Didn’t feel anything’?!” Drew repeated, looking even more scandalized.

“I don’t care if it was painless! It was still a guy, right? Like, a random guy?”

Brooke grinned, piling on, “Oh, he’s not random. I think his name was… Carlos?”

“Oh, mine was Vincent, he’s Italian by the way.” You said

Drew’s face turned red.

“Carlos?! and Vincent?! So he’s got a name now? You ladies on a first-name basis with these guy who… I mean…” He trailed off, clearly struggling to articulate his thoughts.

“Does this Carlos, Vincent know I exist?”

You bit your lip, feigning a thoughtful look. “Honestly, I didn’t mention you. But maybe next time?”

Drew groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Next time? Oh, come on, you’re kidding me.”

“Drew, calm down,” Brooke said, barely containing her laughter.

“We’re just trying to live our best, smooth-legged lives here. Can you blame us?”

Drew looked at her with an exasperated expression. “Yeah, but does that really have to include some guy named whatever his name is? You know, it’s kind of my job to protect you both from… well… guys like that!”

At that, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You and Brooke burst into laughter, doubling over as Drew continued to stare at you both in utter disbelief.

“Wait… are you two… Are you serious?” Drew asked, the realization slowly dawning on him as he watched you both laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh my god, you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He continue, “Oh, yes you are, and it’s not fun ladies”

Through your laughter, you managed to say, “Yes, Drew! There’s no Carlos or Vincent! It’s a prank!”

Drew let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in his chair, though he couldn’t help but laugh along with you.

“Oh, you two are evil. Seriously, I’ve been through a lot on set, and this is what I come home to?”

You wiped a tear from your eye, grinning. “Well, we missed you, so we thought we’d welcome you back with some… excitement.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head as he reached over to pull you into a playful hug.

“Excitement, huh? You know, payback’s coming for both of you. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, we’re ready,” Brooke teased, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Hit us with your best shot, Drew.”

Drew rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling.

“You two are lucky I love you, because if anyone else pulled something like that on me…” He shook his head, feigning a serious look.

“Carlos and Vincent, though? Really?”

You laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “We knew that would get you. What a sexy name for a man”

“Yeah, well, it did,” he admitted, sighing as he gave you a playful squeeze.

“But next time, I’m not falling for it. Just so you know.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” you said, grinning.

[recordingmae]

JJK men x reader

Their reaction to being called your husband!

Characters; Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen.

T.W; nothing really but reader is afab, characters might be ooc, some suggestive content but nothing crazy!, fluff! NOT PROOF READ!!

author: GUYS THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IM EVER PUBLISHING SO PLS FEEL FREE TO GIVE ME FEEDBACK! Also first time writing in general 😭Anyway ahhh I’m so excited pls enjoy

Satoru, G.

The two of you had been laying in your shared bed for the past hour, your head on his chest and one of his hands gently raking through your soft locks. His other hand gripping his phone as he scrolled through some social media platform. You were doing the same thing until a video had popped up on your recommended page.

Calling my boyfriend ‘husband’ to see how he reacts!

The idea- almost as if in an instant cured your semi-boredom. You sat up abruptly only for Satoru to pout at your sudden movement.

“Hey, I wasn’t done playing with your hair,” he whined before reaching out and placing his phone down on a nearby nightstand.

His messy white locks covering some of his face, but you could tell he had an offended expression- like a child would when you take away their Lollypop. “ ‘m sorry ‘toru I was just gonna ask if you wanted pizza” you mumble as he tries to sit up and wrap his lanky arms around you, keyword being tries.

You got off the bed before he trapped you- knowing that if he got a hold of you he wouldn’t let go.

Satoru nodded at your question as he watched you pick up your phone and sit back down at the edge of the bed. A five second pause filling the air before you put on your best performance that he was oblivious too.

“Hi, me and my husband just wanted to order a large cheese pizza-“

Satoru blinked.

Then he blinked again.

Maybe he misheard you— God he hopes he didn’t.

After a small moment passed you simply pretended to humin agreement “yes, my husband can pick it up in about 20 minutes- alright thank you!” You place your phone down on the bed and a millisecond hadn’t even passed when you feel his arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you onto the bed- so that your back is to his chest as he spoons you.

“I didn’t know you wanted to marry me that badly” his breath hot on your neck as his grip on your waist tightens.

“Don’t get cocky, I just thought it sounded nicer” you mumbled out as the heat rose in your cheeks.

“I think calling you my wife would sound nicer too, yeah?,”he pressed his lips to the back of your neck, groaning slightly as he breathed you in, “I’ll take you wherever you want for our honeymoon— have a big cake, doves, I’ll buy us matching blindfolds too,” his voice going a bit playful near the end of his sentence.

“ ‘Toru it was a prank! we still have so much time” You let out a soft laugh, trying to wiggle free from his grip- or Atleast loosen it. Though it doesn’t even budge as places a soft dry kiss on your shoulder.

“I’m being dead serious angel, call me your husband again and I’ll go buy the ring.”

both of you forgot to actually call the pizza place after.

Toji, F.

The two of you were out- grabbing some food, shopping, and you were basically dragging him to every store he clearly didn’t care about, he only sucked it up because you said if he did then perhaps he’d get lucky tonight.

Your dark haired boyfriend walked beside you with a hand gently pressed onto the small of your back.

As the two of you were walking you heard a familiar voice call your name- a tone so sickeningly sweet that it made you want to gag as you turned around to see who it was.

An old classmate from high school- or known as the girl who spread random rumours about you all throughout senior year. She waved excitedly as she rushed over, “Oh my gosh!! Y/n it’s so nice to see that you actually aren’t such a shut in anymore!” Her passive aggressive tone only ticked you off more- you didn’t even notice how toji’s hand snuck around from your back to your waist, pulling you closer towards him.

You force a tight smile onto your face, the kind you would reserve for fake people and bad customer service.

“Who’s this guy with you? He’s not your like rent-a-boyfriend or something right?” She says pointing a finger up and down at the man before she reaches a hand out to you his chest and that’s when you finally realize that the conversation needed to end.

Before her grubby hand could touch your man, you stepped in front of him.

“nope, this is my husband, Toji” you made sure to drag out the title, which payed off as you saw your ex-classmate’s smile falter.

You feel Toji’s chest vibrate from behind you with a quiet laugh.

“Toji do you remember how I told you about the girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut about me in high school?” You spoke but never broke eye contact with the girl before you.

Toji’s dark eyes flickered towards her, slow and dangerous. His smile didn’t reach his eyes “oh, her”—“Didn’t you tell me how she used to say you’d never get a man?” He continued, almost thoughtfully as he pressed himself flush against your back, hands reaching to grip your waist. “And now your married to a guy like me”

Internally you were crying tears of joy as he played along- damn he knew that he was doing a good job.

Lastly, he added a snarky comment just to put salt into her wound “guess Karma works fast- but it’s no surprise you have no guy with you”

Your ex-classmate could only laugh awkwardly as her eyes darted to Toji’s grip on your waist as if she would get burned unless she left, and so with a clearly unsatisfied look on her face she simply turned around and did just that.

Toji tugs you in the opposite direction before lifting his arm and draping it over your shoulder, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You know I’m gonna make you call me that again later, right?”

You smack his chest lightly- but the smile on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

Ryomen, S.

For the past 20 minutes you and your boyfriend were bickering back and forth, threats were thrown, bribes, and maybe one or two shameless promises. It was only when you had practically crawled onto his lap- whispering into his ear as you begged Sukuna to do a Tik Tok with you.

His exact response being “Only one video you damn brat- Anymore and I’m going to break your phone” awww what a romantic he was.

You had told him that the video would be one where the two of you rate your favourite snacks but little did he know it was all a cover for your little prank.

The two of you were in the kitchen as he sat down on a stool next to you, arms crossed, glaring at the phone propped up against a pile of bananas as if it owed him something. The hood of his sweatshirt was half on, and it perfectly casted shadows on his sharp features, Making it look like he was more or less ready to commit a felony rather then rate a few snacks.

Contrasting to you however- beaming brightly as you pressed the record button “Hey guys! Today me and my husband are going to be rating our favourite snacks!”

The silence that followed your words made you rethink your life choices as you didn’t dare look at him. You felt the weight of his stare- the energy emanating from him.

Sukuna turned his head, his voice low and deadly “The fuck did you say?”

You swallowed a lump down your throat and continued to stare at the camera- your voice shaking nervously “your my hus—-band?” You dragged out scared that he would kill you mid sentence.

Though instead Sukuna reached out and gripped your chin forcing you to look at him. His dark red eyes examining your face before he spoke “Again.” He demanded- and you complied.

Suddenly he stood up from his chair and let go of you briefly before he lifted you up from the chair with ease and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

“If you want to call me your husband then I need to make you my wife” he grumbled and you couldn’t help but just laugh as you banged your tiny fists lightly against his back “ it was a prank ‘kuna!! Put me down!”

“I’m sick of your Jokes, Woman. I’m gonna show you what really happens when you practically beg to be my wife”

and show you he did.