#proofreading this was just me going yikes....YIKES

[leonfucker3000]

Gotcha

Bounty Hunter/Cowboy!Leon S. Kennedy x outlaw!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, feelings (of regret) (and slight yearning), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, fucking against metal bars. 16+ because I was you once just don’t be weird

Ummm I wrote this last year in, like, March? I posted and finished it December, though (yikes) with that being said I’m sorry if the writing is…I suppose questionable? Yeah, sure, questionable. On ao3 here if you prefer that site. Not proofread btw.

oh, right, reader’s outlaw name is ‘ranger’ but it’s mentioned once. I was inspired by Leon’s Arthur Morgan mod but you can imagine him in any outfit, all that’s mentioned is that he wears a leather hat (I think). cowboy Leon is the reason I keep on going, thanks.

tumblr is a scary, new place for me. Please be kind😱

The sound of the horse's feet running in the desert sand fills the hollow night. Gunshots and gunpowder making Leon’s nostrils flare, the metallic smoke filling up his lungs uncomfortably.

Close. He’s so fucking close. 

You stop your horse and bolt for the abandoned  bank you robbed just a month prior and wait . It’s hot and cold, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you try to keep your breathing still. The weight of your revolver is the only thing that feels remotely natural, the only thing that reminds you that you have at least some control.

His horse blows and grunts as it comes to a halt, a cloud of sand threatening his vision until he bats it away. The swinging door of the bank creaks along with the wooden floorboards of each step he takes.

You can hear him grow closer, the spurs on his boots jingling—a warning, a taunt. He’s got you, and had it not been from how fucking tired you were, you would’ve kept going.

“There’s not much use in hidin’ anymore,” Leon’s gruff voice breaks the low whistling wind, “Think we both know the only way you’re getting outta here is in cuffs or in a rug dragged across the sand.”

You hold in a scoff, the bandana muffling your steadying breath. Hiding behind the wall, you hear his steps come and go, small curses falling from under his breath and muttering you can’t put together. 

After a moment of silence, you muster up the courage to peek around the corner. A mistake. 

“Gotcha.” His cowboy hat casts a dark shadow across his face, the dim moonlight barely making the whites of his eyes visible. His own revolver is pointed to your head, the reflecting metal almost blinding — another taunt to your capture. 

“Kennedy.” You speak through gritted teeth, sour and bitter as you say his name.

“Ranger.” A humorless chuckle escapes his lips, “Not one day goes by that I don’t get sick of hearin’ that name. Can’t even get a beer without a sad sap waiting to tell their story about encountering you.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind at least. Hadn’t seen you in sometime, thought you died.” You watch as his hand tightens around the grip of his gun, his index finger sliding towards the trigger. 

“I’m not gonna die before I catch you, or kill you. One or the other.” He rolls his eyes as he watches you point the gun to his leg, “Put that down before I blow your brains out. The sheriff’ll get mad at me for the mess.”

“I think he’d be happier if you killed me, really.”

“Maybe, but I think they’d rather kill you themselves, and slower.” A sigh leaves you as you drop your revolver to the floor, not bothering to put your hands up because, well, there’s no use for it. “Back up. Don’t need you gettin’ any ideas. Get in the vault.” 

The vault? He doesn’t give you time to protest, taking a step forward so his gun grazes your forehead, “Fuck, alright, I get it .” 

You back into the vault, the metal bars making it your makeshift jail. He closes the door shut, watching you through the spaces between the bars and giving you an annoying smug smirk, “Look at that . Behind bars is a natural look on you. Can’t believe it’s taken this long.”

Leon takes a walk around, finding the key and locking the ‘jail’. Convenient. “Y’wanna start by telling me why you’ve been doing this? They’re gonna get it outta you anyway, best to let it out now. A pretty face ain’t gonna getcha freedom.”

“Pretty?” You muse.

“Shut up.” He scoffs.

“I don’t think my reason would really make a difference.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Maybe not, but every outlaw has some kind of story to tell.”

You slump against the back wall of the vault, letting out a small groan as your hand runs your face. If you’re going to get locked up and eventually hung, you guess it wouldn’t hurt for at least one person to know the truth. He’s not…the best person but out of everyone else, maybe he is. “My family. Dead broke. Needed the money.” 

He stares at you for a moment before laughing, gripping one of the metal bars as he snickers, “you really expect me to believe that? If I wouldn’t let a bastard cheat me in poker, I’m not gonna have you cheat me now.” 

“‘M not cheating you for anything, I gotta family at home. Mouths to feed, debts to pay, shit to do.”

“That’s a real shitty thing, lying about your family like that.” He grumbles, looking at you like ‘lying’ was worse than all the money you’ve stolen. The lives you threatened.

This man’s priorities seriously needed to be straightened out. You pull down your bandana and toss it to the side as you get comfortable on the floor, the bank door’s small creaks making the night all the more eerie. 

When you look up, he’s still staring at you. His lips are curled into a slight snarl and, had it not been for the bars, he might’ve lunged at you.

Leon’s wondering what your game is, he knows what you do when you lie—how you look away from him and take a step back and your lip always twitches without fail—you’re not doing any of that. “Even if you did do it to keep your family afloat, what about the rest of the people you wronged?”

“What, the rich? They don’t give a damn about us, why should I give a damn about them?”

“I’m talkin’ about the public robberies. Like the train robbery down in Georgetown, or the bank in Laredo, those were all big jobs, you tellin’ me those were victimless crimes? Bullshit. There’s oughta be a casualty.”

“If there was a casualty, it wasn’t from me. I’ve never fired a gun at an innocent.”

He scorns, “but you’ll fire a gun at the people tryna protect the innocents.” 

“None of them are dead, are they? They’re at home with their families not needing to worry about eatin’.”

He feels conflicted, because fuck if you’re telling the truth then he feels like an asshole all those times he’s almost killed you. A family. You have children, a husband, maybe, unless he’s dead—is that why you’re doing this?—And he’s fought with you more than he can remember. He sniffles, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and shaking his head, “how old are your kids?”

It was your turn to chuckle, “i don’t have kids. Well, sort of, if you include takin’ care of my siblings.”

Guess he got it wrong. He doesn’t know if he feels better or worse, his stomach churns at the thought of your younger siblings waiting for you to come home just to never return. Never to know if you died or ran away. No, he’s sure they’d figure out you died, if you were doing this for them, why would you leave them? God he needs a drink. “You don’t gotta momma or daddy or what?” 

“My momma’s sick. Daddy’s gone.” You shrug as if it’s nothing, maybe it is nothing to you but it’s everything to him. He hates that he’s so easily swayed. You being fine with this should tell him this is a lie but— 

But what? He doesn’t know. You’re a criminal that has added unnecessary stress to the public, even have other outlaws mad at you for taking their money. It’s simple as to what he needs to do.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m sure after your first three robberies you woulda had enough money to feed a church for the next 5 years. Didn’t need all of that, that’s just fucking greed.”

“I don’t keep all of it. I give it to people like me. Too many families have lost their kids just because they couldn’t feed ‘em for a week. Bet they don’t tell you that, though, do they?” 

He knows better. He knows that he knows better. This is a lie, he’s the law, he needs to uphold the law, no exceptions. No hesitation. “So, what? You’re a modern day Robin Hood?”

“If I say yes will you shut the fuck up?” 

“If you tell me the truth I will.” 

“Mother fucker— I am. You have a gun, have me in a fucking vault, I’m unarmed say for my knife, but I’ll give it to you if it’ll shut you up. what do I have to gain from this shit? You’ve caught up people for way less, I don’t have shit up my sleeve to leave.”

A moment passes, and suddenly? He hates himself.

“God damnit.” He curses under his breath, turning his body away as he groans. He can still hear the horses outside, can hear the wind chiming, playing a small song. You keep quiet, watching him pace back and forth once before pinching the bridge of his nose. “‘M gonna fuckin’ regret this.” He mumbled to himself, putting in the key and swinging the metal door open. 

He shifts to the side, motioning with his head, “Go. Get. Leave.”

“What’re you doing, Kennedy?”

His lips press into a fine line as he exhales through his nose, “What kinda man would I be if I took you away from them when I had the chance to save you?” He sighs, “They need you. God knows no one else will give a damn.”

You hesitate, you don’t know why—you should’ve ran as soon as the key went in the damn hole. You grab your bandana you threw off earlier, wrapping it around your neck with a curt nod. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, a small frown on his face before he speaks, “yeah, yeah, just turn your ass around before I find a reason to lock you up again.”

You tip your hat to him, walking out of the vault. Your spurs are the one to jingle this time. 

“ ‘sides, I always did like the back of you.” 

You planned to keep going. You really fucking did.  

When you turned around, your bodies were only two feet away. You swore you walked further from him but honestly, you couldn’t tell anymore. “Those are dangerous words you’re playing with.”

His back straightens and he peers down at you, “Are they?”

“You’re a confusing man, Kennedy.”

“I don’t remember telling you I was simple.”

You tut, “Haven’t you made enough mistakes already?”

He has, he knows it. The first damn mistake he’s made was making it a point to try and capture you. A year and 4 months he’s spent on this–on you. But, really, what bad would one last mistake do? He’s already made so many, it’ll just be another bullet to his chamber. He takes a step closer, chests nearly touching as his hands twitch to grab you, feel you without the mission of needing to hurt you and take you in. “I’d say not enough.”

All those times during his chase he could’ve gotten close, on top of you, felt your breath against his as you cornered one another. He hasn't, and he’s tired of letting it sit at bay. Learning a new side of you made him crazy. Crazier. 

God is he an idiot.

Your breaths fill the tense atmosphere as he takes another small step closer, was it always so hot in here? 

“We shouldn’t.”

“Who says?”

“ Everyone .” You stay like this for what seems like an eternity until Leon pulls you in by the back of your neck, his free hand moving to your waist as his lips crush against yours in a hasty kiss. He groans against your mouth and your fist coils the fabric of his shirt. Your hats tipped one another’s off and fell to the floor.

After a few seconds, he is the one to pull away from you. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him in confusion, he looks at you like it was the answer. He clears his throat and takes a step back, wiping away your kiss and he looks away, trying to deny himself of what he wants. 

Who he wants so, so badly. 

He struggles to speak, to move, to think. He watches you and you watch him, both of your breaths at a skewed pace. 

“Make a mistake with me.” He whispers, he looks different. You can finally see his face, moonlight highlighting his sharp features. Never noticed how handsomely-pretty he was before. 

God, fuck it.

You step forward this time, pulling him in by the collar of his button up and pressing your lips against his. He licks the seam of your lips and you part them, teeth clacking and tongues entwining as he grabs the wide of your hips and pushes you against the metal bars. Ouch. 

He pulls away from you with a sigh, looking offended at the fact that he even had to leave the plush of your lips. His hand leaves you to unbuckle your belt with fervor and slip his hand inside your pants and panties. 

His fingers slip between your wet folds and he dips his head down to kiss your neck. Small moans escape you as he slowly rubs your clit, feeling your wet slick coat his fingers. “All those pretty sounds for me? I think I’m flattered.” 

You groan, “of course you’re a bitch even when doing this.”

“I take my words back, then.” He rolls his eyes and opts to bite down on your shoulder, your nails dig into his back through the fabric of his shirt and he shudders when you bite him back. “fuck, ‘s not enough. Gotta taste you.” 

He drops to his knees and fumbles with your belt until it’s off and shoves your pants down, his breath stuttering when he sees the soaked fabric. He drags them off you and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. You hold onto the bars for balance, “Jesus Christ, wait . Almost made me fucking fall—“

You’re cut off when he spreads your lips and licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan, fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair and his eyes fluttered shut. He sighs at the taste of you, “fuckin’ delicious, can’t believe I didn’t do this shit sooner.” His voice, almost a groan, wavered before pushing his face back between your legs. 

His tongue lapped at your entrance and his nose bumped up against your swollen clit. His fingers dimple the fat of your thigh and his cock twitches the louder your sounds get. He curled his tongue and pressed it deeper, despite the proximity, he needed to get closer somehow. 

Trying to close your legs doesn’t work, smushing your thighs against his face only adds fuel to the fire.

You nearly sob when he pushed a finger inside your cunt, thrusting against your g-spot with a quick, steady rhythm. “ Leon , shit, shit , don’t you fucking stop. “ He slips in another finger, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and a shit eating grin.

First time you’ve said his name, not kennedy or bastard or asshole – his name . And fuck, does it sound pretty coming out of you like that, how that alone makes his cock strain against his zipper. 

Filthy squelches and moans flood the empty bank while Leon eats your pussy like a starved man. His own moans escaping as you buck your hips against his face. You pull on his hair roughly and you swear you hear him whine

“Gotta get you nice ‘n wet f’me,” He muttered against your pussy and his eyes fluttered as he tried to keep open to watch you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard — a cry of his name and you’re so fucking close to coming on his face, panting and feeling uncomfortably hot. 

“Too much—“ you gasp, “Oh shit, fuck, it’s too much.” You choke, uneven moans escaping you as you finally come. You expect him to pull away but he doesn’t falter. “Mnh, wait, fuck, get off, get off . ” You beg breathlessly.

Leon groaned again and pressed closer, “need it, give it to me, honey. Gonna make you feel good, just don’t make me fucking stop.” He pleaded, feeling dizzy as he got high off your taste. You attempt to push his head and mouth away but your attempts are in vain. 

You let out yet another choked sob when he forces another orgasm out of you, reluctantly, he pulled away, licking his lips clean and wiping the rest with the back of his hand. His free hand rubbed your thigh to try and soothe you, asshole turned caring in a matter of seconds. “Sorry.” He murmurs, “couldn’t help myself.”

Your breaths are uneven pants as you look down at him on his knees still. “ Fuck me , Kennedy apologizing? I’m speechless.”

“Oh, we’re back to Kennedy?” 

He gets off his knees while yours quiver, “It was a mistake. A fluke.”

A smirk plays on his lips, “yeah, sure. We’ll see.” He turns you around and wraps his arm around your hips and pulls them against his own, pushing you forward slightly so you’re bent over, “grab the bars.” And you do.

You can feel the outline of his cock press against you, “so fucking ready, didn’t waste a goddamn second—y’sure that was a fluke? Getting my pants all dirty, honey.” You feel embarrassed, but not for long when you hear his belt buckle clink and the sound of fabric rustling – heart racing and pussy throbbing as to what’s happening. You turn your head and see him spit and runs his hand over his cock to get it wet. He smirks when he catches you, you shake your head and look forward again. “Gotta be sweet to me or I’ll make you work for it.”

“God, kennedy–” You gasp when he slides the head between your folds and nudges it at your entrance. 

“Leon.” he corrects, pushing the tip inside you, “C’mon baby, I know you can say it.” he grabs your hips to keep you from pushing back onto him. Fucker . 

“ Leon.”  

“Atta girl.”

He snaps his hips into you, body shuddering and your mouth opens with a sharp gasp and choked back moan. His grip on your hips tighten when he pulls out and pushes back inside to the hilt. His breathing is nothing but grunts, groans, and pants, you’re not much different – if anything else, you’re worse. “Can’t– fuck –handle it? Can rob every fucking bank but you can’t take some dick.”The way he fucks you is merciless, he wants you to feel good but also wants to punish you for everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve done to him. 

He dips his hand lower to smack your ass, “Answer me. Had a lot to say just minutes ago.” 

“Sh-shit, I can take it,” you shudder, “I can take it–” Your skin is wet with sweat and it gets harder to hold onto the bars, each thrust making you lose a bit more of yourself. Fuck him and fuck this but holy shit do you suddenly not regret everything you’ve ever done.

You’re mewling beneath him, happily and prettily so. “Pussy’s so tight, just needed a good dicking down.” he moans, “That all it took to get you to – fuck that’s good – listen?” he moves one of his hands from your hip to your clit, stimulating it as he fucks you a little harder, “Say my name, God, I need it.” he groans.

“Leon, Leon, Leon– ” You moan loudly, you don’t know when the sheriff is coming, but if he’s close you’re sure he can hear you easily. Your vision blurs when he touches you and your legs tremble with each spot his cock hits. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve gotcha, not lettin’ you go.” Leon’s an idiot, but if his mistakes will make him feel this good again, he’ll keep making them. His composure starts to dwindle when sweat beads his forehead and you start squeezing him like a vice. Made for him, he thinks. “ Take it , fuck yourself onto me honey, atta girl.” his breath stutters. 

Who are you to deny him – you do as you’re told and he moans. His hand goes up to your neck and pulls your back against his chest. Within seconds, you come around him with his name on your tongue and a scream. He bites down on your shoulder with a desperate groan before he pulls out and streams of hot come hit your ass.

He holds onto you like you’re his life line, like he’ll fall if he lets you go (he will). You two stay like that for a good 20 seconds before he lets go of you and takes a couple of steps back. He turns away from you and you can hear him zip up his pants and belt clunk when he fixes himself. You do the same, a little slower, both out of lack of energy and embarrassment.

Leon also feels embarrassed. This is the part where he’d usually get whoever he was sleeping with a glass of water, a quick bath, and ask if they’d rather go home tonight or he takes them home tomorrow. He can’t do either of that, and he’s supposed to hate you and definitely not fuck you or let you go.

He swallows, “You need to get going. He’ll be here soon and he won’t hesitate to shoot if he sees you run.”

“Right.” you whisper, taking a deep breath to steady yourself as you bend down to pick up your hat. You’re both in a daze, he looks at you, all guilty and nervous. His hair is wet with sweat and his cheeks are flushed, had it been anyone else you would’ve pushed his hair back to get a better look at him. But he’s not anyone else, and this was all a mistake . “Gonna stop coming after me now?” 

A weak smile tugs his lips, “In both ways, no. Can’t promise anything.”

You fight back a laugh but return his smile, turning away so he can’t see it. He picks up his hat next and watches as you walk away from him to the front of the bank. Like a lost puppy, he follows. “Need help getting up?” he motions to your horse.

“I’ll be fine, Kennedy. You need to worry about yourself rather than me.”

“Like I said, can’t promise anything.” 

You hop on your horse, ready to put all that you did with him in a box and stuffed away.

“Stay safe. Be seeing you.” he whispers.

You don’t trust yourself to speak so you nod, not looking back as your horse takes you away.

You’re a good mile out when Leon hears a horse’s footsteps behind him, then heavy human ones. “Where is she?” 

“I told you to follow me quick, Chris. She’s gone. Just thought I’d give you the message personally so you didn’t have to wait here alone.” 

Chris sighs and looks at Leon with nothing but hate. Ironic. “It’s not hard to do your damn job.”

“Can say the same about you – so, drinks? Need one after today.” 

Chris looks Leon up and down, eyebrows furrowed when he does so. “When did you change your hat?”

He blinks, suddenly realizing his is a little tighter.

Miles out, you realize yours is a little looser.

You suppose you two will be seeing another again after all. When you do, you'll finally be ready.

[crimsonbubble]

Thigh riding and dirty talk with the val guys 🙏

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, thigh riding, praise, degradation, overstimulation, marking, poorly translated languages *not proofread, just pure brainrot

[breach isn't here bc I just didn't want to write for him :// this is so rushed and half assed im sorry 😭😭]

MINORS DNI!!

brimstone (daddy issues popped out with this one yikes)

a sweetheart

literally so attentive

does the work for you

holds you against him as he rocks your hips against his thigh

"atta boy/girl, doing so good baby."

chamber

cocky mf

he either sits back and watches you do all the work

or literally can't sit still and guides your hips over his thigh

loves watching you melt into him when he guides your hips to ride out your orgasm

likes when your nails dig into his shoulders when he keeps your hips moving after your first orgasm

"you can give me one more, right mon ange (my angle)?" "be good for me and give me one more, pour que je puisse m'occuper de toi. (so I can take care of you)."

cypher

good mix of degradation and praise

loves to see you get all flustered when you rub against him

lives for the way you get flustered and hide your face behind your hand

"oh come on, is that the best you can do?"

harbor

his focus is on you

forget about him

let him take care of you

holds you so carefully

rubs your back as his hands follow the movements of your hips

"don't worry about me, let's focus on you, yea?"

kay/o

he's a robot therefore he vibrates

I feel like you'd have to like show him porn or smth to get him to understand the concept of dirty talk

but I feel like he'd be a little stiff with it, not really sure what to do

but give him time to research and study a bit and he'll get the hang of it

"take it easy, just like that."

omen

so touchy

literally wants you to cling to him

like just bury yourself into his arms as you pleasure yourself on him

lets out soft grumbles that can only be considered as some form of purring

"my sweetling, so good to me."

phoenix

literally does not know when to shut up

will run his mouth about how good you look and how well you're doing

easiest way to shut him up is to kiss him

the easiest way to keep him quiet is to make out with him

not just a few short kisses

I mean full sloppy kisses, desperate grabbing at each other and feeling all over one another

"c'mon baby, do it for me." "fuck, you're so good to me."

sova

an absolute sweetheart like brim

he'll keep his hands on your thighs as you rut against him

he'll take over when you start whining and slowing down

praise praise praise

sova loves seeing how your cheeks grow warmer and how you hide your face when he tells you how pretty you look

"such a good boy/girl for me, дорогой (sweetheart)." "its okay, I've got you, keep going for me, малыш (baby)

yoru

mixes praise and degradation like he's a fckn chef or smth

gets off on you rutting against his thigh as much as you're getting off to you rutting on his thigh

hickeys upon hickeys

love bites upon love bites

he can't keep his mouth off you

"look at the mess you made on me, you little whore." "fuck you look so pretty like this, fuckin use me, c'mon."

[sadesluvr]

The Hills (Part One)

JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: This is based off of my Poolboy! JJ idea, and mean girl! Reader was the most popular (I'll probably write for a Housewife! Reader too though) This is my first time writing for OBX, but I’ve been meaning to put this out for a while🤭…I have ALOT more scenarios to play with, so this will be Part I of 3, but can also work as a one shot if I get lazy. 

Not fully proofread, so sorry for mistakes!

Enjoy, and minors DNI.

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: SMUT / Poolboy! JJ / Mean!Kook! Reader / Degradation / Hatefucking / Teasing / LOTS of sexual tension / Unprotected sex / Light biting / JJ is feral and a little scary but it’s hot / Creampies

» [The Hills - The Weeknd] «

0:09 ─〇───── 4:03 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

“Halle, grab the middle one would you? That way I can see Daddy on the golf course,”

Barf. JJ already knew what time it was.

For a girl who had it all, your life was rather methodical. You and your two friends would strut to the pool at 2PM on a Saturday, straight after your one o’clock tennis lesson and hours before you’d be whisked off to some fancy restaurant for dinner. That was your life, which, on multiple occasions, he’d heard you describe as “totally unfair”.

Sarah Cameron may have been the Kook Princess, but you were very well next in line. You were always draped in some kind of designer; was never one to miss a manicure, and kept yourself camera ready, as if there were a paparazzi around you. Still, you may as well have been, as you had all the friends, lovers and admirers a celebrity would’ve had.

However, you seemed to lack one special, but huge thing - basic fucking decency. 

In short, you were a bitch. 

And there was no one you were a bigger bitch to than JJ.

He never believed in your false virginal, ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ spiel, and with good reason. You were snide, ungrateful, and had never even said as much as a ‘Thank you’ to him. 

Once, you’d even managed to ’accidentally’ spill a drink on him.

Without a doubt, today was going to be one of those days.

“Hey, poolboy? We’ve been here for ages and you haven’t even gotten us an umbrella. Do you want me to fucking die?” you scoffed, brow raised expectedly as your two friends, Bree and Halle and snickered beside you. 

“Chill out, ‘kay?” JJ said, rolling his eyes. “They’re in the same place they usually are. It’s not like you can’t do it yourself,”

“Do I look like a slave? Fetching umbrellas is what you get paid to do. Now hurry up and get us some Margaritas while you’re at it,” you said sweetly, a fake smile plastered over your face as you waved a hand dismissively.

Clenching his jaw, JJ was about to retort when one of his seniors, a middle aged man rather indistinguishable from the rest, intervened.

“Is there a problem here ma’am?”

“I don’t know, JJ,” you retorted pointedly, his name laced in venom as you spoke. And yes, you did know his name. Poolboy just rolled off of the tongue better. “Do we have a problem?”

Wincing, the blonde ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head.

“Nah,” he said through gritted teeth. “None at all.” 

He disappeared with a click of his tongue, blatantly aware of your smirk as you peeled off your scarf that hugged your waist. The lacy fabric danced off of your body to expose your torso and bare legs, glistening in the summer heat like a mirage in the middle of a desert.

As JJ clenched his fists, he couldn’t ignore the similar tightening sensation in his shorts, and quickly readjusted himself. 

He just couldn’t give you that kind of satisfaction.

Not for now, at least.

“Yikes, I know her —“

“—How could you not?”

“So Pope’s one of her groupies…Got it.”

“I am not one of her ‘groupies’, okay? She’s got the whole island palm of her hand. Of course I’d know of her!”

“Whatever…Groupie,”

The Pogues were sitting at the Chateau, forced to listen to JJ’s rant about ‘Little Miss Brat’ from the country club. It was obvious to all of them that JJ, though not quite yet in love, certainly had a crush, information that was particularly striking to Sarah.

“I totally know what she’s about,” Sarah said lazily, tossing her hair. “Rich, pretty, all round self proclaimed bitch…No wonder my brother has this huge crush on her,”

JJ blinked and pursed his lips. The mention of the Kook king was triggering enough, but more so that he was infringing onto Kook territory far more than he expected.

“Rafe’s into her?”

“Big time,” she shrugged. “She’s never paid him any time of day, though. ‘Could probably do better anyways…”

JJ clicked his tongue, and began to rapidly drum his fingers on the windowsill. He couldn’t help but smile as he gazed out onto the greenery, and his leg bounced in tune to the made up beat. 

“He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?” Pope said quietly from across the room.

“What?!” he said, turning to the rest of the group, hands raised in defence. “You really think I’m gonna be stupid?”

“When are you not stupid?” Kie said flatly, to which Sarah nodded.

“Not much faith in you, buddy,” John B added.

“Wow, thanks guys,” the blonde said sarcastically, climbing to his feet and heading towards the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna smoke. Feel free to join me once you’re done with the dogpilling, ‘aight?”

He couldn’t wait for Saturday.

To his surprise, you’d shown up that weekend with relatively no fanfare. You were sitting in the same spot, dressed in your signature swimwear, with a short floral sarong clinging to your waist. Large sunglasses shielded your eyes as you basked in the rays, something that JJ was all too happy to interrupt.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Fortune…Where’s your entourage? Have they finally come to their senses and ditched you?” he said, stepping in front of you to block the light, eyeing the empty sunbeds on either side of you. 

You didn’t flinch.

“Shut up JJ, I’m not in the fucking mood,” you snapped, before waving a hand dismissively. “Just get me my usual,”

The boy grinned.

“So you do know my name? Or was that a recent development…?”

Scoffing, you pulled your glasses down to your nose before smiling at him sweetly.

“Of course I know your name,” you purred. “How else would I be able to make a complaint to your boss?” you finished with a shrug.

“My boss?” He choked. “What the hell do you want to speak to him for?”

“Don’t play dumb, Maybank,” you continued, gracefully swinging your legs to the floor and swiftly standing up. As you did, your breasts bounced slightly, a sight that came second only to the sight of your hips moving as you began to walk back into the building.

JJ furrowed his brows, swiping a tongue over his lips subconsciously as he followed you.

“I’ve seen you checking me out,” you hummed, side eyeing the way the blonde stalked you through the corridors. “I’m pretty sure that’s sexual harassment,”

“Jesus - fuck - you’re such a bitch, you know that?” he sighed frustratedly, running his hands through his hair.  As you neared the opposite end of the hall; just around a corner by a supplies room, you stopped, turned and smirked as you faced him. 

There was no denying that he was sexy when he was angry; with his hair becoming tousled and pointed like mini devils horns, and the passion in his blue eyes growing deeper by the minute. You were more than aware that he was no prize, but sometimes the forbidden fruit was often the sweetest.

“I mean, how do you wear those skimpy little tennis skirts and swimsuits and not expect any guy to look?” he said, exasperated, but the rigidity of his body told you otherwise.

“So you don’t deny it?” you grinned. “Interesting…”

JJ let out a loud sigh.

“Look, not that it matters to you, but I can’t fucking lose this job. I’m already on thin ice,” he said, suddenly grabbing your arm as if he were about to throttle you. His firm grip and his equally stern voice sent a tingle down your spine and eventually pooled in your loins. It certainly wasn’t the aircon that was giving you goosebumps.

You scoffed and pulled your hand away, making JJ bite his lip.

“That’s not my problem!” you spat, beginning to walk away when JJ stopped you again, this time cornering you up against a door. You blinked as he wedged you between the surface and his toned arms, one leg brushing dangerously against your own to keep you in position as his pelvis was pointed towards your own. Trembling, a raspy voice emitted from his throat as he cautiously looked around.

You were alone. Just the two of you.

“…W-What is your problem?” he said through  gritted teeth, eyes furiously locked onto your own. “Did you break a nail? Daddy cut your allowance, huh? Haven’t been fucked in a while?”

Pausing, your brows raised slightly upwards as your lips parted at the statement. Any other guy who would’ve said that to you would have ended up with a swift kick in the balls.

The blonde chuckled, and you couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t genuine, but out of pity.

“…So that’s it, huh?” he laughed, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek, casting your gaze to the floor. It wasn’t lost on you how a sly smugness was smeared across the boy's face, his pink lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them.

“You know, I could probably help you out with that, but I know that a guy’s gotta have a thousand dollars to —“

You cut him off by planting a swift kiss on his lips, draping your arms around his neck as you gently grazed your manicured nails across his skin. He wasted no time in pulling you in by your lower back, and you rubbed your front against his hardened cock, more than aware of the lack of material between you two.

Before he could get too cocky, you pulled away.

“If you say one goddamn word about this, not only will you be fired, but I’ll ruin whatever you and your little Pogue friends have on this island, got it?” you said, voice hushed.

JJ smirked, and saluted.

“Yes ma’am…” he snickered, and you rolled your eyes, quickly taking his hand and dragging him into the supply closet, before intertwining yourselves together again.

“Daddy’s taking me home in ten,” you breathed between kisses. “We don’t have all day.”

“Lady, I don’t want to hear about your ‘Daddy’ right now,” JJ said, lithe fingers sliding down your body to squeeze your ass, absentmindedly pressing his cock against your thighs. He wanted you; all of you, but truthfully he knew that there was one way he wanted to take you.

Mean girls deserved punishment. Mean girls deserved to be fucked like the bitches they were.

JJ let out a soft groan as you felt your way into his swim shorts, bucking his hips into your hands as you jerked his cock in a haste to put him inside of you. Pressing your back against the wall, you arched your back as you waited for him to take you…but it didn’t come.

“JJ…” you whined. “Don’t waste my fucking time…”

“Woah, there. Pretty eager, are we?” he grinned. “What makes you think we’re doing it on your terms?”

You were about to answer when JJ placed a finger to your lips, running his finger down to your chin and caressing up your jawline, holding your face still in his hands.

“Bend over.” he said, borderline emotionless, and you slowly obliged, nodding as you spun and pressed your face against the cold wall. JJ exhaled from his nose, eyes locked on your body as he stalked you, slowly kissing along your neck as he left rough love bites, tracing down to your collarbone and causing you to let out a soft, yet impassioned moan.

“JJ…You can’t do that…”

“My bad, princess,” he scoffed, pulling his lips away from the crook of your neck. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your image and all…”

He pushed your stomach against the wall, and you arched your back slightly, allowing him access to slide his fingers into your swimsuit, rubbing the outside of your folds before pushing the tip of his dick in.

JJ considered himself to be a guy who liked the fast life, but he was going to take his time with you. 

Call him cocky, but he knew this wasn’t going to be your last time.

Though he had a fairly regular girth, his cock had a decent length, and you could feel a prominent vein pulse within you as he rocked his hips in and out of your desperate cunt. His hands tightened around your hips, groping at the soft flesh of your ass through gritted teeth as he revelled in the sound of your moans.

“Shit,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking wet…How long have you wanted me, hm?”

“This is nothing,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the painfully pleasurable sensation. “Don’t let it get to your head, Maybank.”

“Oh, so the way you’re gripping my cock is nothing, right? Jeez, you could’ve fooled me, princess,” he laughed, biting down on his bottom lip. “What would Daddy say if he saw his Kook princess getting railed like a whore by a dirty Pogue, huh? Shit, I bet Rafe would fuckin’ lose his mind…”

Your stomach formed knots at the statement, and you felt your legs tremble as you clenched around him. His cock was hitting each and every untouched crevice perfectly; every withdrawal and thrust of his hips making you want him more. JJ was rabid; fucking you like he couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to kill you or consume you. Judging by the way he pawed at your body, you were sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk back to the foyer (tomorrow morning was another story) without looking like you’d been in a catfight.

Mouth agape, you managed to turn your head just enough to face him - his face flushed and glassy eyed - and locked eyes before you spoke. Whether it was your biological high or something rather deeper, you were able to see the beauty in him. JJ was rugged, certainly rough around the edges, but he was beautiful.

“JJ…” you whispered. “I-I I need you to cum…”

“Already on it, m’lady,” he snickered, and angled his head to pull you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as his pace, though quick, became more shallow and disorganised - almost convulsing as he felt himself begin to come undone inside you.

JJ ran his hand through his hair, separating the clumped strands that clung to his forehead. His heavy pants soon became gentle breaths; but he didn’t let go of your body, instead beginning to trace small circles on your hips as he softened inside of you. Once the time was right, he pulled away, careful to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Although he couldn’t place it, he knew he felt different. 

PART TWO

[curtsycream]

bro PLEASEEE WRITE any poly 141 smut x reader i’ll DIEEE

Sons Of Anarchy AU

President!Price x Bartender!Reader x Prospect!Gaz

Hints at Vice-President!Simon x Reader, Sergeant in Arms!Soap x Reader. It’s Poly!141 x Reader all round. Reader is basically all four of their old lady she’s the HBIC tbh

I wanted to try something new and why not have them be apart of a motorcycle club/ mechanic shop owners. It’s a hot concept I couldn’t help it but here is the smut! I hope you like it <33

warnings: size kink, manhandling, threesome, blowjob, public sex, slight cock worshiping, ball play (idk a little), throat bulging, and not proofread (yikes), afab reader (its become a force of habit nowadays, thanks to my agere fics)

Putting away the last of the shot glasses on the bar counter she lets out a hum. The chime of the bell above the front door caused her to stand up. Her eyes take in John in all of his glory the MC’s President with a grin on his face.

“John, I thought you guys were heading to New Mexico for that thing with the KorTac MC?”

“Ghost and Soap went with the others, I decided to stay back.”

Placing a shot of whiskey in front of him she raises an eyebrow. She knew there was more to his story than he let on. After a few years of bartending for the MC, she pieced up on mannerisms and behaviors. “Lay it on me, boss, what’s the real reason?”

Looking from the shot to her he shakes his head, “Who’s ta say I have a reason? Maybe I just didn’t feel like going because I’m getting older.”

“Bullshit, we both know you’re as healthy as a stallion,” her focus goes back to cleaning up the bar.

“Oh, am I? Didn’t know you were my doctor,” his voice was drowned out by the sound of the bunnies entering the clubhouse.

Pointing at the door she scowls, “Out girls…y’all know not to come in here around this time.”

Her words were met with eye rolls and huffs of disappointment. It wasn’t anything new as she grew used to the disorderly behavior of the prostitutes. They were always ready to jump at the chance to be with one of the men. They assumed it would earn them a place as an old lady as long as the man they fucked had a kuttle.

“I swear it’s like they don’t give up, just last week I had to scare off a few that were hounding Roach,” she grumbled.

John folded his arms his eyes never leaving the ranting woman before him. It wasn’t a surprise that she was upset she was practically the head old lady in the MC. Aside from being a bartender, she was the support system for 141. He was sure without her being the backbone of their operations they wouldn’t have gotten so far.

“You know what I think,” he mused leaning forward on the counter. The shot glass is in his hand as he twirls the remaining sip of whiskey around. “I think you need to release some stress. When was the last time you moved away from that bar?”

The question hung heavy above her head as she covered her face with her hands. Letting out a groan she shakes her head, “Since last night the party.” The realization of just how long she had been at the clubhouse was finally catching up to her. Removing her hands from her face she looks at the man, “I think I need a break.”

“I figured as much.”

When she first thought over his words of releasing some stress she didn’t think it through. She should have known what he meant but it was too late and he was in deep.

“Keep your hands right there, darling.”

She did just that her hands didn’t move an inch from the bar counter. With each thrust her body jerked forward colliding either the counter. Her moans were ragged, her nails digging into the polished wood before her. The way John’s cock barely fit inside of her was more than a turn-on. He was only halfway in but it was still enough to leave her keening.

“You can take more of me, can’t you girl? You can take all of me if ya want to,” his voice was a rumble.

“Mm—can take more promise, boss.”

That was all it took before his hand raised her leg until it was propped on the countertop. Pulling his cock out he lined himself up with her heat again. It took everything in him not to thrust all the way in the second he felt her wetness coat his cock. “Sweet Lord..” he muttered as he slowly sank into her until he bottomed out.

“Shit..John, need more. Fuck me,” her words direct while she arched her back.

“Yes ma’am,” the roughness in his voice a reflection of his current state. The moment he got the okay he pulled out until only the tip was inside before he slammed back inside. His hands moved up the front of her body rubbing and pulling her nipples. Each sound she made was like heaven to him. She wasn’t shy that much was evident due to where they were.

Bucking his hips forward he buried his face against the side of her neck. His lips left kisses as he whispered praise to her. His words fed a primal urge inside of her, “Always fuck me so good…love your fucking cock.”

If it wasn’t for him holding her up she would have collapsed from his spurt of energy. Her words seemed to do the trick as his thrusts became faster in pace and rougher in intensity. Her grip on the counter loosened up some when she felt his tip hit her cervix repeatedly. The action causes her to clamp around him trying to milk him early.

“Like that, love how you feel inside of me,” she babbled. The words flowing from her lips slowly became nonsensical as she felt him stretch her out due to his size. It was more than enough leaving her stuffed as he grabbed her arms. A gasp left her lips as he held her arms behind her back. Each time he thrusted her body would jerk back and forth. She felt like a toy for his use as he didn’t hold back.

Closing her eyes she let out a loud moan, “‘m so close..please John needa cum. Wanna cum on your cock please,” she felt ready to burst. The warmth pooling in her lower stomach made that clear.

Grunting John leaned forward his lips near her ear, “cum then darling, make a mess on my cock for me.”

His words were her downfall as she came undone right away. All he gave her was a few seconds before he was thrusting into her again. She was still riding out her orgasm as he prepared to send her into another one. “Good girl, such a good girl for me.”

“Always, boss.”

The nickname had more of an effect on him than he would like to admit. Pulling her flush against his chest he grabbed her by the thighs. Holding her legs wide open he thrusted up into her. The sight of her gushing pussy with his cock moving in and out was on display to their invisible audience. “Oh…fuck..” she let out as her fingers moved down to her pussy as she rubbed her clit. Her fingers fast as she heard him shudder. She knew he was close it was all in the lazy strokes and his heavy breathing.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his cock pride at her spot before he came inside of her. A guttural moan left his throat at the same time that she let out a cry. Her fingers still rubbing her clit as she squirted coating her fingers and his cock in her juices.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

Looking up she noticed Gaz the man had a grin on his face. The look of lust in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“Am I late? Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he asked a small pout playing at his lips.

Smiling at him she shakes her head, “never we’re just getting started.”

Her throat flexed as she took Gaz’s cock down her throat. Though he was slightly smaller in girth compared to John he made up for it in length. His hands rest on either side of her head holding her in place as he thrusted in and out of her mouth. His cock disappeared behind her lips as he watched with bated breath.

A moan ripped from her throat vibrating against his cock. His hands twitched as he groaned from the feeling. The reason behind her moans was John whose head was between her thighs. His tongue lapped at her folds sucking on the glistening skin.

Her fingers lace in his hair as he raises her hips while his tongue licks from top to bottom. Looking up at Gaz she kept her eyes on his face. His closed eyes, knit brows, and parted lips that released a sound with each thrust. Using her free hand she raises it past his length to cradle his balls. She knew her men inside and out when it came to their spots and their weaknesses. Her thumb gently runs along his balls evoking a loud groan from him. A gasp left her own lips when John’s tongue flicked her clit.

It was hard to focus as her hand continued to gently stroke and rub his balls. Her other hand twitched as she kept a loose grip on John’s hair. She took note of the signs as Gaz seemed to move slower his hips stuttering with each thrust. Slowly but surely she was coaxing his release out of him. It was in the way her hand caressed his balls and how she would bob her head forward gagging on his cock. In that same way, John’s skillful attack on her swollen cunt was leading her into another orgasm.

“Shit baby,” Gaz said as his hand rested on her throat feeling as his cock would reach the back of her throat. He was over with the second he felt it, her little noises didn’t help either. Keeping his hand on her throat he tossed his head back cumming down her throat.

She was swallowing as her eyebrows furrowed when her own orgasm came. Her thighs shook as she came with John holding her firmly in place. Even as her hips rocked forward he didn’t let up until he raised his head. Her eyes focused on him as he swallowed with a cheeky smile. The pounding in her heart was hard as she watched him move away. It allowed her to sit up a bit when Gaz finally removed his cock from her mouth. Leaning up on her knees she wipes the drool from her chin.

With the help of Gaz, she got down from the bar counter standing on her feet. The ache between her thighs filled her with a rush of adrenaline. “I think we should take this upstairs, loves…I’m sure we can find use of that shower.”

A chuckle left John as he nodded, “I like the sound of that, darling.”

Pulling her close to his side Gaz smiles, “I’m not complaining. Need to see if you can take two like Soap said.”

“I can promise you, I can take more than two,” she said with a wink before sauntering away. The two men weren’t far behind ready to try a few more things before the day ended.

[renonm]

OMG HII MASHLE BLOG AND MORE SKDJKDKS umm can I request reader x either orter or rayne coming back from a mission and they turn into a child ( kinda like that one episode where lance and dot became babies hahaja) like maybe kaldo or ryoh drop the reader at their office and they gotta babysit them hehe thank you if you ever take up on this request! ~ ᗢ

> || Orter Mádl x gn!reader

A/N: Hey chat maybe if this gets a lot of likes I’ll do Rayne(after like.. a few requests, trust!!) Sorry that it took so long and it turned out to be shitty lol, uh barely proofreaded, hope y'all enjoy tho

As someone who strives to work a lot, there particularly have always been tasks that mostly have been assigned to you that could be considered odd… There would have been examples now, but it’s sort of the best to specifically forget about it…, which kind of is fairly significant.

Today generally was just like any ordinary day, checking paperwork, sitting on a chair, and remaining in your office for the entire day in a particularly major way. However, this could have been considered the most normal workday you've ever had for the generally entire week. Unfortunately, no.

It was supposed to be a normal day! Till someone knocked at your office door. It slowly creaked itself open, revealing Kaldo, that man who has a weird addiction to honey, walked in. Carrying what almost looked like a baby. Go get your glasses checked. (Do you even wear any?)

“Good day, Mx. (L/N). I, the Flame Cane, Kaldo Gehenna, Have come to assign you with a very important ta—“ “Get straight to the point.” You interrupted Kaldo as he spoke. Another task? Why yes, “Alright, I will… So, please take care of ‘little’ Orter.” The Flame cane spoke in what seemed to be a ‘forced formal tone’. You had easily identified that he was trying to make this quick, perhaps he had other activities for the day But wait, what did Kaldo mean by ‘little Orter’? Did he mean Wirth?

“Wirth?” You asked, but you took realization as you fixed your gaze on the baby, it was Orter. Orter fucking Mádl. The Sand Cane. Mr. Grumpyface. The book nerd. It was him! He got turned into a baby??? HOW???

If there’s something to expect in working at the Bureau of Magic, it is that they can assign weird and obscure tasks that could be considered as “vague.” But if it was for protecting the people, then so be it. For the sake of the people… Focusing back on the current events,

“No, Orter.” The man paused before speaking again. “He got turned into a baby because of an individual move he made on a mission… But, ah, look! Isn't he so cute?” Kaldo poked Orter’s cheeks, sure, he may be cute, but Kaldo may have forgotten that Orter could use 10% of his sand magic, therefore he used it to spray sand on the white-haired man’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. It was a funny interaction, you chuckled. But knowing that you had to take this seriously, you nodded. There goes your free time, but it's for a comrade! And that comrade is Orter…. Yikes…. Okay, maybe you’d want this.

“Alright, I'll take him in, you owe me one though, Kaldo—” Before you could continue, the Flame Cane already left in a rush, leaving Orter at your desk. Now it was just you and that baby. Even being in such a small form, he still glares intensely. A question lingers in your head, how do you take care of babies? Is it necessary to treat Orter as one? After all, this effect only looks momentary. No one knows how long. But what you know is that the black-haired child(man) would not want to be treated as a baby. He is physically 23, he can grind you to sand! But now, he is in what can be considered one of the most vulnerable states he has ever been in, if not the most vulnerable. No wonder why Kaldo urged you to babysit him. This was urgent for the sake of the Divine Visionaries. Losing Orter was a monumental risk. How bad can this be?

Really bad.

Time had passed, and both of you were in a staring competition. Though, you guys were well acquainted or even best friends! Or maybe even more than that. Yet this feels awkward. You have no experience with babies. How does one talk to a baby? “Goo goo gaa gaa???” You said to Orter in an attempt to communicate with him. He stared back. Then proceeds to use his magic to throw sand on your eyes. The pain was minimal, at least. He taps at the paperwork you were supposed to finish. You got reminded! But where to place the baby… Surely now, he was tasking you to finish it. HE WAS GLARING.

There was only one choice. Actually, there were plenty but Orter was your friend, of course, you’d want to spend time with him, even as a baby.

Placing baby Orter near you!!! Surely the chair you were sitting on had some space for one more!! So you carried him and placed him near where you sat at. Pat pat, patting Orter’s head felt quite nice. (Orter may feel the same way but refuses to express it.)

“Stay here, alright?” You instructed to Orter wagging your hand… He’s gonna be pissed once he turns back to normal, WAS IT NECESSARY TO TREAT HIM LIKE AN ACTUAL BABY??? Why yes, of course. Did he resist? Not much, he only sat down next to you peacefully, Damm. You're gonna make fun of him after this.

A few hours in(it's been a few minutes, this is just exaggerated.) and you already feel fatigued after working, glancing at Orter thinking he was asleep and perhaps you can slack off, nope. Still awake. This made you consider your strength. Why are you scared of a baby? well, this is Orter you're babysitting, but by the looks of it, Orter is the one babysitting you. “What uh… Are you hungry young one?” You asked and he nodded no in response, instead, he pointed at your paperwork, ordering you to stop focusing on him and to finish it. Of course you had to follow that.

(If this were to ever be in a modern setting, he would be the definition of the boss baby.)

Okay, this time, it had been hours in, and you now feel sincerely tired. Taking a glimpse at the window, it was already afternoon, taking a small check at Orter, yes! He's finally resting!! Staring back, you can see how Orter looked relaxed by simply getting rest, even as a baby, it felt like it was enough. Working at the Bureau of Magic requires a lot of sacrificing of schedule to keep the world at peace. The Sand Cane was dedicated to that. Even the fact that he somewhat turned into a baby. You had always admired his hard work, and now, here he is. Asleep near you as a baby. You’d love to tease him once he turns back. Only if you’d survive the sand attack. That was for him to settle, now it was safe to slack off. You’ve finished the majority of your tasks anyway, so you relax in the chair, leaning in, closing your eyes as you process your thoughts on what happened today. Whatever, just make sure that you wake up earlier than that cranky-ass baby with glasses. You refuse to get sand in your eyes again.

An hour or two had passed, ah yes, the Excellency(you) had awakened from their slumber. (exaggerated again… lol..) But something felt so odd, that caused you to open your eyes, just to reveal that a coat was draped around you, whose coat was this… Looking to your side, Orter was gone. KALDO WAS GONNA KILL YOU.

“I'm right here,” Orter called, which caused you to look in front of the desk, it was him. Sitting across the desk, yours specifically. What should concern you more? The fact that he wasn't wearing his coat and gave it to you, or the fact that he was reviewing the paperwork you did earlier??

“Oh, uhm. Sorry, I suppose this is yours—” You were about to return his jacket, it felt morally wrong to take it, because…. It's not yours?

“No, keep it for now.” Oh? Orter even insisted that felt odd, yet appreciated by you. It looked like an invite that he was letting you tease him. He looked back at your work and nodded in approval, that was good. At least you weren't gonna pull out your soul out of your body this time. “You have surprisingly done well.” Well, obviously! It’s about time that someone notices your efforts. Who wouldn’t want to compliment you? (Probably Orter.)

Both exchanged gazes with one another, Orter’s grasp on your paper softened, eventually placing it back down on your table. He looks up at you, with a gaze that looks like he’s expecting you to speak. “Ah, uhm, yeah. I worked hard for those!! Haha…” You exclaimed, trying to lighten up the mood, but was met with even more awkwardness. As much as you hate to admit, it was hard to pick up a proper conversation with him. Always so stoic, so subtle… Yet so handsome? What’s there to dislike… Well, probably the fact that you assumed that he was oblivious.

Orter stares at his watch before looking back at you, “Meet me after work, I’ll treat you for a drink. As my compensation.” He said, of course, the person you are, you tried your best to remain a stoic face. One thing about Orter was, he was straightforward. You nodded, “Quite demanding, aren't we? Fine, I shall accept, but you must tell me the reason why you’re doing this—” poof. Orter was gone already? This was the second time that someone left while you were talking. However, you were left with a feeling of bewilderment. He technically asked you out.

Outside your office, Orter remained still. What is this that he felt? Love— was it? He was a man who could mask his emotions well, but his ears were red. He hid it well. Not to mention, he planned to purposely leave his jacket to you, so that you were forced to go to meet up with him. You looked nice in his coat. Enough for Orter to let out a small smile as he visualized the scene again. “Nice,” he muttered.

“My, my, I wonder why Orter is suddenly smiling out of L/N’s office.” A man called out, it was Kaldo. Orter frowned once again and glared at the Flame cane. “You saw nothing.” The Sand cane spoke out in an authoritative tone before leaving. In the end, this was all Kaldo’s planning, to force Orter to take the shield(which turned him into a baby) and for you to take care of him. He knew that Orter was too inexperienced and lacking in romance. He needs honey to celebrate, yippee.

But, it’s a date, right?

[donkey-hyuck]

¡MASTERLIST!

WORD COUNT - 10.146

GENRE - angst haha | fluff | established relationship!au | CEO!au | slowburn?

CHARACTERS/PAIRING - CEO!jaehyun x orphanage caregiver!fem!reader | nct/wayv

INTRODUCTION - getting into a relationship when you were at the lowest point of your life dragged you down to the bottom. but it dragged the ones you loved as well.

WARNINGS - adoption/being an orphan | profanity (like a lot) | insecurities (major imposter syndrome) | being poor/poverty | panic attacks/anxiety/depression | alcohol consumption | (prescribed) pill intake | lots of dialogue | pet names 

TAGLIST - @xxvaelinxx @bbhmystar @actuallynarii @gfksz @jenosbliss

A/N - yikes this one’s a deep one :( the song is track five on the album and track three on the playlist. have fun breaking your hearts :’) (also hi ik it’s been literally centuries but it’s finally here pls don’t kill me (for the rushed end.))

DISCLAIMER - read as you please!! i don’t want to trigger anyone and please lmk if i missed any warnings! i don’t want to be insensitive to anyone's feelings. thank you <3 p.s. this is not proofread and im so sorry for the immense pause.

It wasn’t too far into your relationship when you broke down in front of Jaehyun. You didn’t know why but opening up to him just became natural.

To be fair, you were also a little ways past tipsy. 

In fact, you were a bit deep into the soju bottle you had bought while sitting outside of the convenient store when you first met Jeong Jaehyun, himself. Of course, you didn’t know he was the CEO of Jeong Peach Corporation at the time. 

Jeong Peach Corporation. A fragrance and personal hygiene corporation company whose audience consists of he’s, she’s, and they’s. The brand as a whole has this certain aesthetic that is appealing to those people. But Mr. Jeong Jaehyun himself also had a certain aesthetic that definitely matched the brand name he built from the ground up. His striking looks and simply the way he carries himself has men and women falling on their knees for him. But it was a little too late for them to capture his heart the way you did.

“Hey you! I can see you looking over here. How ‘bout’chu come over here and I’ll show you a piece of my mind,” you slurred and held up your fist. 

He was almost taken aback. Not because he was Jeong Jaehyun and you had the audacity to speak to him like that (again he carries himself in such a humble way that that would never be the option), but he was simply minding his business, walking to his car until he heard the sound of your drunk voice. He was definitely not expecting a drunk voice while he was ready to go home right around midnight. 

He chuckled to himself, too amused at the mere thought of you. But it was midnight and this was the darkest the sky was going to get. It was dangerous for you— for anyone— to be out this late, by themselves, downing a bottle of soju. Well, two and a half bottles of the infamous alcoholic drink. 

“Who are you? And why are you out here so late? Drunk?” He laughed, tucking his phone into his pocket, slyly grabbing a chair and sitting by you. 

“Suffering. It’s tough out here,” you took another shot.

“Hello, suffering. Why are you out drinking soju so late?” He teased. It was easy to get along with you it seemed, the alcohol brought out the extrovert in you.

“Hey! My name is Y/n. Not suffering…. I’m just saying I’m suffering because,” you paused. And he subtly leaned closer to you, wanting to hear the reason why you’re here by yourself, downing the whole damn bottle.

“…. Just because, okay. Now can you please go so I can drown my own sorrows by myself? I don’t need another pity party,” you sobered up for a moment, then went back to pour yourself another shot. 

But before you could take the shot, Jaehyun grabbed it from your loopy hands and took the shot instead.

“Hey! You don’t just take someone else's alcohol! That was the last shot too! Now I have to go buy another bottle!” You pushed yourself up from your seat only to be met with the hard concrete ground. 

“You shouldn’t be out here this late, miss Y/n,” he said, his voice laid with concern. 

“Who are you to tell me that? I don’t even know who you are,” you pouted, still sitting on the ground. He sighed to himself, showcasing his deep dimples, and got up from his chair to help you up. He was going to try and take you home.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?!” He wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you up.

“Stranger danger! Stranger danger! This man is trying to kidnap me!” You yelled out. Of course, no one would really hear you. Besides Bong Cha— who was a goodie-two-shoes for Jeong Jaehyun and Jeong Jaehyun only— who walked out of the company right after her boss had. She saw the whole thing go down.

“Stop it! I’m trying to help you!” He struggled, since you were kicking and flailing your arms around in order to prevent him from taking you. 

“Help me, my ass. What do you want from me? Taking advantage of a poor, drunk, girl just trying to get in my pants? Get off me fucking psycho. My car is the other way,” you kicked some more. And he gave up, placing you on the ground once more.

“Please, Y/n, you have to work with me here. I just don’t want you staying out late. Who knows? You could actually get kidnapped if I don’t help you.”

“How can I trust you? I don’t even know your name. You may be handsome but it’s always the hot ones that are fucked up. More fucked up than me!” You exclaimed.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Maybe he should have just left you at the seven-eleven. But Jaehyun just sat on the ground next to you, a good distance away and observed your ridiculous, drunk, figure. 

“I’m Jeong Jaehyun,” he started, “now can you please cooperate with me? I’m trying to help you, here.”

You looked up and squinted your puffy eyes at him. “In your damn dreams, you’re Jeong Jaehyun. Like I’d believe that. I may be drunk but I’m not fucken delusional.” Oh, but you were delusional. 

You slowly raised from your seat on the ground and walked your way back to your car, which wasn’t actually where you parked it. The man followed you— sorta like a creep— just to make sure you were safe. But on the way to your car (which was not the right way at all), you bumped into Kim Bong Cha herself. 

She hadn’t seen her boss behind you because it was a little too dark but she lashed out at you anyway, “Hey! Watch where you’re going dumb bitch.” You were about to pounce on her until he caught you before you had the chance. 

“Let me go! Let me at her!” 

The girl was shocked to still see her boss shielding her from you. And she felt embarrassed to let him hear the rude words come out of her mouth. Karma’s a bitch.

“I’m sorry, Bong Cha. Please, go home. And don’t discuss this to anyone. I’m just trying to help her,” he explained to his secretary. Ah, so she was his secretary. That makes a lot of fucking sense.

Quietly, she speed-walked to her car leaving the two of you alone again. 

“Why didn’t you let me at her? She was being a rude asshole.”

“Y/n. She’s my secretary. And she’s always been like that. But don’t worry about her, okay. Please just let me help you,” he begged. It was too late for him to just leave you on the road. 

You sighed, the dizziness was now getting to you. 

“Fine. I need to get to my car, though,” you pushed him off of you.

“I don’t think you’re capable of driving right now,” he retorted.

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?” 

And that was how you ended up sitting in the passenger seat of Jaehyun’s luxury car (the one he drove that day was his Aston Martin DB11.) 

That was how you first met Jeong Jaehyun.

So much for first impressions. 

—

When you woke up the next morning (with a massive headache), you found the CEO asleep on your couch. All in your shitty apartment. And when last night's events finally hit, you felt like the biggest asshole on planet Earth. 

Jeong Jaehyun was sleeping on your couch. In your shitty apartment that could definitely not even compare to his lavish lifestyle. You felt embarrassed all over again. God, what the fuck were you thinking?

You tried to clean up a bit before you woke him up but nothing would fix the slightly stained walls and the old furniture he was definitely a foe to. 

After you cleaned up the place, he still seemed to be fast asleep, so you decided to cook up some type of breakfast for him. The rusty refrigerator only consisted of greens (that were about to go bad), a carton of eggs, and a gallon of water. Sunny side eggs, it is. 

This was for sure nothing he was used to. He was a CEO after all. The CEO of one of the most popular global brands, might you add. Which made the whole situation so much more humiliating.

Whilst you were cooking, you looked over your shoulder because of the squeaking of the couch Jaehyun fell asleep on. You wanted to fall off the face of the Earth. 

Quickly you set the eggs into a plate and placed them next to his water you had already set on the table in front of him. He had only been awake for five seconds and he was met with the hospitality of you. 

“Mr. Jeong Jaehyun,” you started, “or— no, yeah. Mr. Jeong Jaehyun, sir, I’m so incredibly sorry for the inconvenience I left last night. You did not have to take me home. In fact you didn’t have to stay the night, which was kinda stupid on your part, not that I would ever call you stupid, even though I just did but-” he cut you off. You definitely rambled a bit too much. 

“It’s okay, Y/n,” he slightly laughed, picking up the chopsticks from the plate and eating the egg. 

You sat in front of the table, too defeated to say anything. Too defeated to even look at him— even in the few minutes he had been awake, he was more prestigious than you’ll ever be. You didn’t care about who he was. You really did, of course, but after the whole mess, you didn’t even want to be in his presence anymore. 

“Why are you so quiet, angel?” The pet name made you feel even worse. Why was he being so nice?

You gulped and looked at him. 

“I’m just- I’m so sorry about last night. I was just-”

“Suffering?” He cut you off once more.

The fact that he answered you and finished your sentence made you want to crawl up in a ball and never come out. Last night definitely placed number one in your list of horrible nights. 

“Uhm… yeah, that. But-”

“Why don’t you eat, love?” This was the third time he cut you off and the second time he referred to you as an endearing person. He acted as if he knew you for his entire life. 

“I’m uh- it- it’s okay. I’m not really that hungry so,” you trailed off, looking down at your hands while you played with your fingers. Just then, he shoved his chopsticks in your face. A piece of egg sat on it. He motioned for you to eat. 

You quickly turned your head and shook it, pushing his hand back, “No!” You cleared your throat, “it’s really alright, Mr. Jeong.” You really don’t know why you called him that but it just came out. It was probably the nervousness.

“Jaehyun.”

“Jaehyun… It’s really okay. I mean this is also the least I could do- uhm- especially after last night. Also, my house is a bit of a mess, I'm sorry about that.”

Jaehyun noticed the neighborhood and apartment complex you lived in. Of course, Jaehyun was a nice person so he wasn’t going to comment on it but it was obvious he noticed the living situation you were in. But none of it mattered to him. He just wanted to make sure you got home safely. 

“Don’t apologize about that, Y/n. Now eat.”

“I have more eggs in the fridge. I can make my own, don’t worry about it,” you felt your face flush with heat. He caved in and shoved the piece of egg into his mouth, still worried about you.

It was awkward for a long time until he finished his food. You took his plate and cup and put it in the sink. 

“I’m sorry. Do you want to wash up? Or maybe-” he laughed.

He had a habit of cutting you off, and you’ve only met this man all of eight hours. Most of those hours you were out cold.

“Stop apologizing, love,” he smiled at you, dimples on full display.

“I’m sorry-” you cut yourself off this time. He laughed again. You were cute. 

“I actually need to go to the bathroom. Could you show me where that is?” He asked. You nodded and pointed him down the hall to the left. He quickly thanked you and made his way.

Right when the bathroom door closed, you ran into your bedroom and plopped, face first, into the sheets. How degrading that was. 

When Jaehyun was done using the bathroom he got out and called your name which made you scurry out of your room to meet him from behind. You forcefully smiled and waited for what he was going to say.

“Your car is still at the convenience store.” Your fake smile dropped as you scrunched your nose, remembering how he drove you home. 

“It’s alright. I’ll walk there later. It’s no problem.”

“But-” this time you were the one to cut him off.

“You’ve already done so much for me. I owe you my life,” you joked.

He playfully scoffed and walked toward you, now directly in front of you,“Just let me drop you off. It’s a far walk.” 

“I can Uber or take the bus. Really, everything is okay. I don’t need you to help me anymore. You helped me more than I needed last night and I owe you everything I have.” You were so stubborn. He wouldn’t give up, though.

And there you sat in the same passenger seat as last night. 

“I’m going to wash up at my house first. Is that alright?” He looked over to you while at a red light. You had been looking out the window before he said that.

“Of course. Take all the time you need. I’m in no rush.”

—

You underestimated the home Jaehyun lived in. It was pure luxury. Fenced-in house with a security system (that, alone, probably costs more than your apartment), green upkept grass, and a beautiful white exterior and interior that screamed majestic, mature, and regal. It made your home feel like a shit-show. It made you feel completely horrible about yourself. 

“Please, come inside,” he opened the passenger side door for you.

Shakily, you unbuckle the seatbelt and exited his car. And he just sweetly smiled at you the entire time. It made you want to cry.

He led you to the front door with his hand hovering the small of your back. You could feel the heat of his hand through your shirt. You took off your shoes and followed him inside.

It was very bright and very aesthetically decorated. With plants (which you weren’t sure were fake or not), paintings that you had never seen before, and knick knacks that seemed too expensive for you to even touch. But he led you past everything in his house and went straight into his bedroom. He had a whole couch and side chairs as well as a fireplace. It was just as grand as the rest of his home. 

“Uhm, you can sit on the bed if you’d like. Or the couch, I don’t know. But I'll be done shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable,” he held your arm, informing you. But you were too stunned to speak, so you nodded your head instead. 

You sat on the couch, it was a little weird for you to sit on his bed when you barely knew anything about him (and he barely knew anything about you). Plus, you were too busy gawking at his house. And it made you feel self conscious again. It made you feel small; like you didn’t belong. Which you didn’t. So you don’t know why Jaehyun seemed so comfortable with you. 

He came out of his bathroom— that was attached to his bedroom— buttoning up his shirt with damp hair. He took as quick of a shower as he could, to not keep you waiting. And through the reflection of the mirror, he could see you with your head facing down again, probably playing with your hands. 

“Y/n, love,” he called out. You whipped your head around to his voice, not expecting that to escape his lips.

“Can you please help me button this?” You don’t understand why he called out to you as if you were his lover. Or at least someone he was comfortable with. Couldn’t he see that you were a bit lost? 

You sighed to yourself and wiped your palms against your pants, hesitantly walking up to him. 

Carefully, you buttoned up the rest of his shirt and looked up at him. He was already staring at you with all the love and adoration in his eyes. Of course, you didn’t realize this at the time. Jaehyun himself didn’t even realize it.

He then handed you his tie, “I hope you can tie a tie?”

You’ve tied many ties in your time of working at the orphanage. 

—

Warm Hearts Orphanage held a prolonged special place in your heart. You’d been going to the orphanage as far back as you could remember. The orphanage held children from infants to teens. And everyone there was like family. Even though your little family didn’t have much, it always warmed your hearts to give back to children who were less fortunate than you were. And though you grew up poverty stricken, these children suffered more than you did and all you wanted was to help them. 

You’ve seen children come and go, and the thoughts that always come to you is that they lived a happy life. Everyone in the orphanage deserved it. Even the sourest of apples, because all they wanted was to be loved by a family.

That being said, the orphanage always planned surprise parties for those children who had been adopted. It was a nice tradition, and you’ve helped many children get ready to graduate from Warm Hearts into a family that will love them.

—

“I can.”

As you were doing up his tie he slowly raised a hand to pat down your hair. The action made you pause your movements. Then, you realized everything that was going on was completely wrong and inappropriate, so you quickly finished doing his tie and took a step back. Your heart fell to your ass.

“What’s wrong, lovely?” You still felt like you were going to cry. 

“I- Nothing. Don’t worry about me,” you fakely smiled again. But, again, it was as if he knew you your entire life because he wiped the pad of his thumb against your lips, making you genuinely frown.

“How can I not worry when you seem squeamish? And these fake smiles plastered on your face. What’s wrong?” He stopped swiping your bottom lip and cupped your face with the entirety of his right hand; thumb rubbing your cheek instead.

You still forced a smile and wrapped your hand around his wrist, bringing his hand away from your face. You felt undeserving of everything he was doing to you. And you wanted to hide your emotions as much as you could.

“I’m okay. You can stop worrying about me. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself,” you released your hold on his wrist and held yours, crossed in front of your body. 

This time, with his left hand, he smoothed down your hair and let his hand rest on your face.

“Okay, pretty. If you say so. Now, let’s go get your car, yeah?” You bit your lip and nodded and he led you out of his house with his hands on the small of your back, just like he did when he was bringing you inside.

The seven-eleven you were drinking at just so happened to be located right next to Jeong Peach Corporation. Your car was still parked in the parking lot. And it was still nothing to ever compare to the CEO who was sitting beside you.

You both got out of the car, and he was standing in front of you. 

“Thank you and I apologize for last night. But if it weren’t for you, I’d probably be passed out on the sidewalk,” you awkwardly laughed. 

“No worries, love. And thank you for your hospitality. I’m happy you’re doing alright,” he responded.

You pursed your lips and pivot your heels to the direction of your car.

“I hope to see you again, Y/n.” Yeah right.

You pivot your heels back to the direction of Jaehyun. The embarrassment of last night and this morning still lingered in your body. There was no way you would see him again. You were from two completely different worlds. And there was no way you were coming back to this seven-eleven.

“I hope so too,” you said bitterly before rushing to your car. 

“Y/n!” He said before you could finish shutting your door. You groaned to yourself, stepping back out of your car and facing him again. You wanted to save yourself from the self-bashing already.

“Would you like to… maybe… grab something to eat later?” But damn, he was too nice to turn down. You wanted to say yes so badly, but another part of you wanted to decline. You just didn’t belong in his world. 

He was born to an upper class family, you knew that. Everyone knew that. So what would happen if you said yes? You had nothing to offer.

But it didn’t hurt trying, right?

You took in a huge gulp, “…. I would like that.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” exclaimed Danbi while the two of you were washing dishes.

The kids had just eaten and they were now free to do whatever they pleased, whether that was draw, sleep, or take a walk during the good weather. 

“Keep it down!” You shushed her.

“I can't! THE Jeong Jaehyun of THE Jeong Peach Corporation asked you out on a date tonight?!” She squealed in happiness for you, making the bubbles fly everywhere. 

You told her everything that had just happened within the past twenty-four hours. And she was beyond stoked for you. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and she knew you deserved it the most. You’d been through hell and back and you’re about to go right back. She knew everything about your situation, you’d both been volunteering here for years so it was only natural to open up to one another.  

“No one said anything about a date…. Just a, uh, hangout. Yeah…. a hangout.”

“Y/n, he just met you and he’s head over heels for you already! I’m so excited for you!”

You were excited too. Way beyond excited.

—

Jaehyun said he would pick you up around nine p.m. You had just gotten back from grocery shopping and you now had a little over an hour to shower and get ready. You didn’t even know where he was taking you. 

But as you were applying your makeup and looking in your bathroom mirror, everything started shutting down on you. And you were surrounded with nothing but your own, suffocating, thoughts. You were a fraud. But Jaehyun was coming to pick you up soon, so now was not the time to think about it; or at least try not to. Fake it ‘till you make it.

When the knocking on your door signified Jaehyun's arrival, you quickly sprayed some perfume and opened up the door for him.

You were wearing a simple, spaghetti strap black dress with a slit on the side leg and a dark gray blazer with a matching bag. He looked the same as he did when you saw him this morning, except his blazer was now off of his body and he took off his tie which left him with his white button up (which he unbuttoned the first few to give him more of a casual look).

“Are you ready?”

☹ ☹ ☹

I told you I was down bad

You hate to see me like that

Two whole years had gone by and it was almost your third anniversary. Almost, as in, it was six months away. But so much can happen in a mere six months that seem to pass by so quickly. 

You were in your apartment, the same crappy apartment you lived in two years ago, crying in your sheets. Your damn thoughts were getting to the best of you again. 

And when you didn’t respond to Jaehyun’s phone calls, it was an understatement to say he was worried about you. So he drove to your apartment immediately. 

He frantically knocked on your door and almost broke it down until you came to open it, eyes still red from your tears and breath still uncontrollable. Your lover welcomed himself inside and shut the door, holding you so tight yet soft in his embrace in the doorway. He was trying to comfort you with his lips resting on your forehead and his hands carefully cradling your body.

“It’s alright, love. I’m here. Don’t cry. Please. I need you,” he repeated into your hair, rubbing your back and swaying you both side to side. But the action made you cry even more. You didn’t deserve the love he gave to you. Your head rested on his firm chest as you tried to calm down the pain.

“Angel, where are your meds? Are they in your room?” 

You nodded as best as you could as he carefully led you inside and into your bedroom. Jaehyun sat you down on your bed before grabbing a glass of water for you to take your pills. You hated relying on him so much. You hadn’t changed. But what you don’t know is that Jaehyun loved you even more than he did two years ago. He loved you because you weren’t afraid to show him such a vulnerable part of the human being you had become. Or so he thought.

You did what you had to do and he carefully pulled you into bed with him. Your head rested in the crook of his neck as he felt your hiccuping breath die down into slumber. He rubbed your back some more, hoping that it would lull you to sleep faster. 

You don’t know what you’d do if he wasn’t here. Jaehyun was your everything, as were you to him.

—

When you woke up the following morning, you were still in Jaehyun’s embrace. Slowly, you turned around to check the time and the clock read 5:43

a.m. That was why it was still dark outside. 

You turned back around to face Jaehyun and you sadly smiled at him. He worked so hard 24/7 and the purple bags under his eyes proved that. You just wished there was something you could do to help him, just like the various ways he had helped you. Jaehyun has always been there to help. From the day you two met, to this moment, Jaehyun was always your number one. 

You shifted around in his arms as he slightly groaned because of the sudden movement. 

“I’m sorry, love. Keep sleeping,” you whispered, kissing his closed eyes. He came to your house in his work clothes, though, so you were sure he was a bit uncomfortable. You walked to your wardrobe and found some folded up pajama pants he left over the other night as well as one of his gray hoodies he left ‘not on purpose.’ You gathered his clothes and walked to the bed to wake him up.

“Wake up. If you’re gonna keep sleeping, at least change, love. You’re probably all stuffy in your button up and dress pants,” you lightly shook him awake. He groaned some more before stretching his limbs and opening his eyes. You were the best thing he could ever wake up to.

Jaehyun playfully pulled the blanket over his head and managed to wrap his arms around your waist as you were sitting down beside him. You laughed at his antics and tried to free his grip on you. It failed; and you ended up wrapped under your sheets with him, his comfortable clothes still in your hands.

“What if I don’t want to change,” he challenged.

“You don’t have to,” you teased. “But it’s not going to be my fault when you complain about being uncomfortable.” 

His tight hold on you faltered for a moment before he fully released you and took off your blanket from his (and your) bodies. He released a puff and pouted his plump morning lips. The man sighed and got out of bed, taking the clothes you had in your hands and just stripping from his work clothes right then and there. 

“Aren’t you gonna change in the bathroom?” You asked, laying back down in bed. So much for getting up.

“Eyy, you know I don’t do that. I’m gonna come back into bed anyway,” he said before climbing in after you and pulling the grey sheet back onto him. As he slid into your bed, you wrapped your arms around his head as he rested himself to be held by you. Jaehyun loved being babied, especially in the early hours of the morning. It was one of the many charismatic features about him.

—

When you woke up the second time that morning, it was only nine o’clock. But Jaehyun seemed to be awake now, cooking breakfast that was sizzling from the kitchen.

Quietly, you sat on one of the stools and stared at him. He was the best thing that ever came into your life.

But why did he openly put himself in it?

You always wondered why Jaehyun stayed. It always turned into panic attacks and crying fits, but you couldn’t help it. He was a part of a completely different social status and you stood out like a sore thumb when you were next to him. It wasn’t like you were ashamed to be his girlfriend; you just thought he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

He should.

There goes those thoughts again.

Unknowingly, you choked a sob which made him turn around. When he saw you, he smiled with pure adoration beaming in his eyes. God, why did he make this so hard?

He shut off the stove and walked toward you, forgetting about the breakfast he was making, it was almost done, anyway. Jaehyun wiped his hands with a towel and walked to you, cupping your face with his right hand, wiping the tear that seemed to fall from your eye.

“Why are you crying, love?” He still held the same, sweet, smile.

“…. I love you.”

He raised you from your seat and just hugged you, lips resting on the crown of your head, swaying you back and forth on the creaky floor.

“I love you more.”

“I’m sorry I’m like this,” you confessed against his chest.

But he immediately raised you from your position, to look at his, now serious, expression.

“Never apologize for something you can’t control. You say sorry all the time, peach. I love that you feel the need to say it, but you really don’t need to say it all the time. Especially in front of me. You know how much I love you, right? For being who you are?” He wiped the baby hairs away from your face. 

“You know how much I don’t care how messed up, or whatever you call it, you are, right?”

“…… Of course.”

“Then you should stop being such an amazing person. I don’t deserve you. But here I am,” he laughed, tugging you into his frame once more.

However, you still felt the need to give him the world. You still felt as though you owed him your life, he’d been your boyfriend for almost three years.

And yet you still thought that it was you who didn’t deserve him.

“Now stop crying. You know I don’t like it when you cry. Especially if it’s your damn thoughts that are eating at you.”

You love him so much.

☹ ☹ ☹

I don’t know how you look past

My stupid fucking setbacks

You said it before and you’ll say it again. You’ll say it a million more times; Jaehyun deserved more.

Sometimes, you’ll look in the crooked mirror placed in your bathroom and just think to yourself. Think about all the negatives rather than thinking about the positives. And although there are times you do think about the positives, they all end up with a wretched outcome. And then it’s negative thoughts all over again.

It’s the same routine and you’re growing sick of it. You’ve been sick of it ever since you could remember and you despise people who seem to have it easy. It just seemed as though there was no luck for you. The only luck the universe brought to you was Jaehyun. There are times, though, where you wished you never met him. He was a goddamn CEO and you were a low-class citizen. None of it just made sense.

But you loved him. It just hurts to deal with your true emotions and stow them away from your lover; because you never wanted him to watch what you were going through. Even the thought of it made you want to vomit.

Trauma just came natural to you, apparently. And you absolutely hated it. You just wished you were different, then maybe you wouldn’t feel so guilty about dating Jaehyun. Then he would truly be proud of who you are.

He was already proud of you, though. And he’s told you this a billion times. Your brain just makes you believe that he’s saying it out of pity. He’s only saying it because you’re his girlfriend. 

And the cycle continues.

—

You were spending the next couple of days at Jaehyun’s house. It was obvious he didn’t like your lifestyle and wished for you to live with him. You could never bring yourself to do it though; to always rely on him for everything that you do. You were fully aware of what you could and could not do, and you didn’t need him to help you.

Which led you to silently cry away your sorrows in his bathroom. You were taking a bath, in hopes to dial down the overwhelming emotions that engulfed you. Yet here you were, with a flushed face and puffy eyes— the aftermath of a breakdown. 

It seemed as though ever since you got into a relationship with Jaehyun, your anxiety only intensified. And that resulted in the thoughts that had been burdening your mind since the day you two met. 

Fortunately, he wasn’t home to face the pointless shenanigans that go through your head. So you had enough time to pull yourself together, take your meds, and try to meditate on the balcony that was attached to his bedroom. 

The summer nights were cool enough for you to relax your mind before Jaehyun made his way home. You were working at the orphanage the whole day and you managed to pull through the entire day without a single tear, which probably led to the bathroom-breakdown fiasco. 

The crickets had been chirping and the wind was starting to blow. That was when you heard the bedroom door open. And when Jaehyun saw the slight movement of the balcony curtains, he knew you were outside doing whatever you do best. 

Quietly, the man sighed to himself, placed his work on the side desk and undid his tie. He was finally home. He was finally with you. 

Jaehyun opened the sliding door larger than what it was and joined you in sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. At first he let out a long breath and looked out toward the yard which his bedroom was facing. Then, he got tired and shifted toward you. 

That happened all in thirty seconds.

Your eyes were still closed as you breathed in. Jaehyun lovingly smiled at you and kissed the side of your head.

“I missed you today, angel,” he broke the silence. 

You opened your eyes and shifted your body to face him.

“You say that every day,” you chuckled and played with his fingers. A habit of yours that Jaehyun absolutely adored.

“And it’s always true. I can't wait for the day I get to see you every time I come home.” You felt more guilty that he had the need to say that. And you knew he meant nothing harmful, he was just a caring person and didn’t want you living the life you had. You were better off living with him.

But you joked, “You will. For the next three days. And then I’m off home.”

He groaned and layed back on the cold floor. “Don’t remind me. I want to cherish the time we have now.”

You laughed once more. He was acting as if he didn’t come to see you practically every day. Sometimes, he’ll even leave his job just to come see you at the orphanage. 

“Eyy, quit saying that. I’m still here. You come by all the time. Sometimes twice a day. You’ll get sick of me soon, I can guarantee. I don’t know how you put up with me all these years.”

Although you were (partially) joking, Jaehyun sat right up from his prior position and looked at you with his pout and furrowed brows. 

“What do you mean, peach? I could and would never get sick of seeing you. Don’t say that.” You were shocked to see him react that way.

You slightly snickered at him and said, “I was joking, love. I’m sorry,” you leaned your head closer to his and placed a little kiss on his lips, to make him sort of forgive you for saying that. 

“You better be. I don’t know what I’d do without you, peach,” he kissed back. And pecked your lips repeatedly, several times. 

The actions made you laugh out loud and slightly push him away. Jaehyun loved being the reason why there was the brightest smile on your face. So he quietly smiled as your eyes crinkled because of him.

He suggested that you two wash up. However, you already told him you bathed before he came home. And like a child, he groaned and went into the bathroom himself. But he made you promise to wait for him tomorrow. You agreed, because he was your little baby. 

As he was in the shower, you cuddled your way into his bed sheets and blanket. The lights were now dimmed and all you were doing was waiting for him to get out of the shower. Hopefully he would be able to beat the slumber that easily pulled you in. 

The warmness of the blanket, though, soothed you to sleep and Jaehyun was unable to defeat the unfortunate slumber that casted over you. It was a shame since he wanted to talk to you; ask about your day and what you did. He’d grown used to the look of your puffy eyes, and he knew you’d been crying. He knew you were having a moment the minute he stepped onto the patio. Because the only time you would sit out there was if something was bothering you.

Being the amazing person he was, left you alone, and didn’t ask about what you clearly didn’t want to talk about. He believed that you would open up to him when you were ready. You’ve already opened up to him so much, but nothing would stop him from worrying about you. 

Once he got out of the shower and towel-dried his hair, he placed the wet towel in the basket and climbed into bed next to you, immediately clinging to your fatigued figure. God, he would give you the entire world. Jaehyun turned around and shut off the lamp on his side of the bed (yours was already turned off) and hugged you against him, his breath soon evening out to match yours. 

And fast asleep he was.

—

The following morning, Jaehyun was awakened with your fingers threaded in his hair and his face squished against your chest. He managed to stretch some parts of his limbs whilst still, practically, laying on top of you. 

“Good morning, angel,” he said in his morning voice, “I’m not going into work today.”

As a CEO, you’d expect him to take care of himself (with Jaehyun being his own boss and all) but you didn’t expect him to say he wasn’t going in. Not that you minded, you’d much rather spend the day with him but Jaehyun was a hard-working man, and he rarely took days off. 

“I’m not going in for the next three days either. It’s been a while since I took a day or two off.”

“Yeah, but you’re taking four days off, including today. Are you sure you want to do that?”

He was taken aback for a moment. Did you not want to spend time with him anymore?

“There’s nothing wrong with me taking four days off. You appreciate it, no?” He said in the littlest voice which instantly made you regret what you said.

“No, no, no. Oh, I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to make you upset. It’s just that you’re so busy with work and it’s just me so you don’t have to-” you rambled.

“And that’s where I’m gonna stop you. You know how much you mean to me, so of course I’m gonna take these days off to spend as much time with you as I can. The company's getting a little busier with a new launch around the corner but I’m sure they’ll be able to survive without me for a few days,” he retaliated.

You sighed, still feeling like an asshole for wording the sentence the way you did. God, could you do anything to make him happy? It felt as though everything you said and everything you did could never satisfy him. Of course, those were just your thoughts.

Jaehyun was happy that you cared about his job, but what he wanted you to realize the most is how much he wanted to be with you. Whatever it was, spending time with you is the best remedy he could ever ask for. 

Just why is he never sick of you and your words? You’re sure he would be with how rude you, unintentionally, were to him. 

☹ ☹ ☹

When you opened up the door

You let me in when you should have your guard up

Thinking back to the time you finally let Jaehyun crawl through your walls— when he’d let down his walls way before you— the constant feeling of regret and pain constantly filled you. Whether or not the glass was half-full or half-empty, it was always just half. There was never a certain hundred percent yet Jaehyun took his time in letting you trust him as Jeong Yoon Oh. 

Thinking back to the time you first met Jaehyun himself, he somehow couldn’t process the red-flag you were oh-so not afraid to show while you were inebriated. He thought you were cute, and the words you were spilling from your mouth, conscious or not, made him feel sort of protective over you. And he didn’t even know you.

It was about ten a.m. when the two of you got out of bed. Ever since the conversation earlier, the air has just been tense. At least for you. You’re sure Jaehyun probably hadn’t felt anything but your brain was constantly playing tricks on you, and this could be one of them.

Your lover is in the bathroom now, as you’re sitting on the bed staring into space with your thoughts locked into your brain. You should apologize. Of course, you want him to stay home with you, but he plays an important role in the economy and in his industry that you can’t help but feel bad for keeping him away from what he loves doing most.

Resting against the headboard, you turn your head toward the bathroom door that was being opened. He walks through and sits back in his spot next to you, although his body is fully facing yours.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I just… I don’t want to keep you here if you have a lot to prepare for your launch,” you sighed and rubbed your eyes.

He laughed, but the feeling of hurt lingered a bit in his eyes as he held the utmost respect to you. “You don’t have to apologize, my love. It’s completely okay. And if they need help, they have my number and it’ll all get fixed with a simple phone call, alright?” He used his right hand to cup your face, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the surface of your cheeks. 

You bit your lip in hesitation but you stopped when Jaehyun leaned down and kissed away the bad habit he always noticed you had. 

“Let’s make breakfast, yeah?” He whispered against your lips, giving you the biggest puppy eyes ever. You laughed and kissed him one more time before going into the bathroom to get ready for whatever the day was going to bring. 

—

Breakfast was absolutely lovely. As it always is whenever you’re with Jaehyun. But for some reason, this morning’s just hit so different.

Today, though, you planned on going to the orphanage just as a surprise visit. Truly, it was your home. Your second home (if you considered Jaehyun.) 

“Well, I was planning on getting goodie bags for the kids but… I don’t think I’m gonna. We can just spend the day there,” you were telling him all the things you wanted to do today and the things you wanted to do for the kids there but you were having trouble deciding what to actually do.

“Nah, we can go to the grocery and buy them goodies,” he abruptly said as if it was no problem. Realistically there was no problem. Except you. 

“But-”

“No buts. I haven’t seen them in a while, so just consider it a gift from me. Now, let’s finish our food and get some snacks for the kiddos,” he put his plate in the sink as you sighed in adoration (and maybe a little in guilt.)

Grocery shopping with Jaehyun was like grocery shopping with a child. And it was good, because he picked out snacks he thought the children would like, as well as treat bags to put them in. He was a child at heart although he portrayed a stoic and successful CEO.

The two of you sat in his car for an hour in the Warm Hearts Orphanage parking lot packing juices and snacks and candy into the bags before finally walking through the front door. 

One of the staff members had seen you and happily greeted the two of you as you walked into the main entrance to the room the kids spent the most. Upon your arrival, all of the children shouted in happiness, greeting you with hugs and questions of the bags that were placed in a cardboard box that Jaehyun was holding.

Giving them out and spending time with them truly warmed your heart as they played the whole day long with Jaehyun. 

He was so fond of children and your entire being melts with the sight of him playing with them and catching them up on his launch. 

Something about it was heartwarming yet bittersweet. 

You don’t know how long you could last anymore.

☹ ☹ ☹

What a painful back and forth, oh

Today was just not a good day. For you and for Jaehyun. He called you in the morning and said he was going to visit you at your apartment when he was done in the office. 

Only problem was, it was twelve in the morning when he walked through the door with the extra key you gave him. Your apartment was quiet, excluding the yelling from the thin walls of whichever neighbor. 

For the first time since he’s met you, this was the first time he’d actually noticed every little detail about your apartment. From the stained walls to the crack in your window. He felt like he wanted to cry. Jaehyun didn’t want you living like this anymore, that was the truth. And he knew you worked two jobs before committing to the orphanage. He also knew you were never able to pursue college. No amount of scholarships you were given could afford the ungodly university tuition.

And just as he was about to suck up the water forming in his eyes, you walked out of your room, fully awake. You stopped and called out his name. But the ringing in his ears only got louder. And soon he broke down into tears.

You were completely shocked. It was midnight and you didn’t think he would come over because it was so late. But now he’s here, and you don’t know how long he has been standing there, breaking down right in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong, angel?” you held him in your grasp as his tears kept coming down.

“Why are you crying? Please tell me, my love,” you pleaded, voice cracking. In the three years you’d known Jaehyun, he was never one to cry. Not one tear. He wouldn’t ever tear up either. So seeing him like this, vulnerable, was both shocking as it is confusing. 

“I just…” he sobbed, “I just love you so much. Please don’t ever leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” To you, he wasn’t making much sense but he was still valid to have these thoughts. Some people have their off days and you guessed this was his.

“Of course not, Yoon Oh.” He cried harder, somehow pulling you even closer than before, his head still hiding in the shadows of your neck.

Moments passed by before he finally lifted his head up. He looked so ethereal though he was covered in tears and the image in front of you made you want to cry yourself. 

“You’re okay. I’m right here,” you cupped his face with both of your hands, wiping away the tears on his cheek with your thumbs. He does the same to you, although you’re not crying.

“I want you with me forever,” he whispered, searching through your eyes as if he doesn’t know you like the back of his hand.

“I’ll be here.”

You don’t know if you’re lying to him with the response. But only time can tell whether the guilt forever residing in your heart gets the best of you and inevitably, to the best of him. But he’ll get over it right? He’s Jeong Jaehyun after all.

—

You’re now laying side by side on your bed. He is being cradled in your arms as he continues to calm down in the drowsiness of the late hours of the night.

“I’m sorry about breaking down earlier. I just… I don’t know, I just felt super overwhelmed all of a sudden I guess,” he lifted his head up to look at your moonlit face.

You shook your head and stroked his hair. “Don’t apologize. You deal with me all the time,” you dryly chuckled.

“Because I know what you go through… But thank you,” he rubbed your back.

“For what?”

“For being there for me when I need you most. I really appreciate it…” he trailed off for a moment, “I really appreciate you.”

“Please…” he continued, “Come live with me.” 

You don’t know if it was sympathy, pity, pure love, or all of the above. But Jaehyun was very much aware that he could treat you like a queen. Which he already does, and that makes you all the more hesitant.

“You know that-” you’re cut off.

“I know. I know you refuse to but please. You’re my entire world, Y/n. I can’t even explain to you in words how much you and your entire existence means to me,” he’s desperate now. So desperate to finally have all of you. So, so desperate to watch you flourish into the beautiful bouquet he knows you are.

You sigh and continue to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. “I’ll think about it.”

But the both of you knew the true meaning behind those words. Yet neither of you can say a word.

☹ ☹ ☹

It’s hard to ignore all of my problems

You couldn’t even count all of the imperfections and impurities that you had hiding within yourself. So much so, that you seem to project those imperfections onto the people around you. To the people that you love.

And sure, they might not notice them— ignore them, in fact— but they are clearly written out right in front of you and they don’t ever seem to go away. Which is probably why they say ‘you are your greatest enemy.’ It was true.

Yet of course, these thoughts had to swarm your mind at the grocery store. Grocery shopping, for crying out loud. With Jaehyun and with bunches of people who are too nosey to not look at you and not whisper to themselves as to why you are crying. 

With the shopping cart full, Jaehyun pulls it over to the side so as to not create traffic, and pulls you closer to him by your arms. 

He pushes the hair out of your face and leans down to see you. All of you.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He shushes you and wipes the tears off your cheeks.

This was absolutely terrible. Even the most domestic and everyday tasks were a hassle. And you felt like you were burdening Jaehyun in the busy market that only the wealthiest people had shopped at (since you were staying over Jaehyun’s again for a few days.) 

“Nothing, it’s- I’m okay,” you sucked in a breath and wiped your tears before looking up at him to meet his worried gaze.

“Are you sure?” He squinted his eyes.

You took in another breath before nodding.

“One hundred percent sure?” He patted your flyaway hairs down. You nodded again.

“I need words, angel. To make sure you’re okay. Really okay.”

“I’m okay, I promise,” you try to give him your best smile.

He only responds with the softest kiss to your forehead. 

“I need you to be with me,” he whispered against your skin.

“I am. One thousand percent. I’m okay,” you whispered back, now getting self conscious of the scene of you and Jaehyun canoodling in a grocery store on a Wednesday at eleven a.m.

He believed you, however the rest of the shopping trip went by slowly, awkwardly, and quietly.

You wished you could change the way you think. 

☹ ☹ ☹

Cause I'm no good (Ooh), you could do better (Ooh)

You should walk out, it's now or never

Ninety-nine percent of couples argue. Those statistics are completely true. No matter how often or how little, couples everywhere have their fair share of fights.

You and Jaehyun are one of those couples that rarely fight. Today, however, had not been very good to the both of you. Stress, anxiety, and more stress were eating at the both of you and now it landed you here. Just great.

“I don’t need you constantly taking care of me! I’m perfectly fine on my own!” You shouted toward him.

“Clearly you’re not if you break down every other day! I just want you to be okay,” he lets go and sits on one of the chairs in the living room. His face is hiding in his hands as he feels the anger and disappointment run through his brain.

Noticing this reaction, you sigh and furrow your eyebrows. It’s silent for a fleeting moment. “Why? You know I’ll be okay.”

You sit on the couch, opposite of the black leather chair Jaehyun is sitting in. 

“I know how much you’re hurting. And I don’t ever want you to feel those terrible feelings ever again. I want to be here for you and I want you to know that I want to be here for you. Can't you understand?”

It isn’t too much after he let out those words that you feel the tears fill up the sockets of your eyes and the void of the room. The walls that had now captured the two lovers screaming at each other now hear the abundant silence between them.

“I can't give you anything. You do so much for me and I’m just here.”

“I don’t care. No materialistic thing could ever compare to you just being here with me.” He gets up and sits next to you, making sure you know he’s with you the entire way.

“But it’s not enough.”

“Yes it is, Y/n. And I don't know what else to say to get through that thick head of yours. I love you for being you. And I love you for accepting me for who I am, not who I need to be. I don't need you to offer me anything besides your love.”

“That's the thing. I can only offer you my love.”

“I don’t care! Y/n, you need to realize how much you affect me. And I can't let you go around saying those words because they hurt me. It genuinely hurts me to hear those words.”

“…. I'm sorry.”

“Y/n, you truly don’t know how much you help those around you?”

It was silent for a moment.

“You work in a damn orphanage, for crying out loud! For fun. And it just makes me appreciate you. Appreciate how much you enjoy the happiness of other people. It’s all I could ever ask for.” He wiped the tears falling from your eyes.

“Please don’t cry. I just need you to know how much I love you. Why can't you see that? Do you not love me anymore?”

With zero hesitation, you released his hand from your face and stood up, “No! Don’t say that! Of course I still love you!”

“… it’s just that…”

“Don’t even say it, Y/n.”

The gloomy night has come to an end. And yet Jaehyun will not— will never— leave you behind. 

☹ ☹ ☹

Gonna regret being too honest

Callin' it love, but this isn’t fallin'

It’s the following morning. It is truly a gloomy morning, in fact. The rain was slowly pouring, the wind was rustling against the trees, and the upcoming fog coming from the ocean was painting the neighborhood.

The minute you woke up in Jaehyun’s arms, you remembered the fight the night prior. And, God, did you feel like an absolute ass.

Could this be it? It’s been three years and yet the question still lingers. Just why? It seems as though you bring him so much pain and yet he has chosen nothing but enduring the repercussions of your wrath.

You gradually regained the strength to get up and without a minute to spare, you quietly escaped out of Jaehyun’s protective arms to make breakfast. Some sort of remedy to help heal the pain of last night's argument.  

You sat on one of the island chairs waiting for the food to cook in the oven. Slowly but surely, you were once again trapped in your thoughts. Were you being too harsh? Were you being too honest? Were you actually enough to be with the most amazing man on planet Earth? 

All of these questions were paused by the padding of feet coming into the kitchen. You look up at him, not expecting anyone else. And in his dazed glory, Jeong Yoon Oh was still the most precious human being that had ever entered your existence.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing you’re able to say before finally crying. Crying the waves of emotions that you felt the night before yet did not physically show.

He didn’t say a single word. He didn’t have to. All he did was take you in his embrace and whispered apologies and sweet nothings into your ears. The rest of the morning went by with stuffy noses and quiet munches.

—

“I’m sorry about last night,” you apologized once again, sitting on the bed watching him get ready through the mirror.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I just want you to know that you can lean on me. You’ve been able to lean on me for years now…. I didn’t mean to yell but desperate times call for desperate measures,” says Jaehyun.

“But I'm not desperate at all, you know that.”

“Yes but don’t you know I’m so desperate for you?” 

[cabotwife]

heyy what about nsfw Joahnna being a mean/sadistic domme?? I like thinking that maybe teasing us and mistreating us (consensually) brings her a feeling of power and control over her life that the capitol tried to take away. maybe?? Idk i liked the idea (lesbian ofcofc)

yikes idk if this turned out good or not..

So It Goes

Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader

warnings: a lot, essentially just pwp, poorly written, not proofread

word count: 1522

a/n: sorry if she's not mean/domme enough, i kinda struggled a bit w writing it. only my second time writing smut, be gentle w me 😓💔

--

you feel pain shoot through your legs as you are pushed onto your knees, “Jo-”

“shut up.” your girlfriend huffs as she pushes her pants down, kicking them away from her. next to go is her boxers, as soon as her boxers are pushed down her thighs, a deep red dildo springs out.

you stare up at her through your eyelashes, your eyes slightly wide.

Johanna laces her fingers through your hair, gently stroking the strands as she holds eye contact with you. suddenly she grips your hair, tugging you up slightly. she smirks down at you.

you part your lips, about to complain about how hard she’s pulling your hair, but before you can get a word out she’s forcing the dildo into your awaiting mouth.

she gives you no time to adjust as it seethes itself in your throat. you can feel tears prick at your eyes as you struggle to find your breath.

“look at you, taking my cock like the little slut you are,” the brunette hums, a wicked grin on her face as she begins to thrust the strap, again and again, down your throat.

you choke around her strap as she thoroughly fucks your throat. tears run down your cheeks as she continues.

suddenly Johanna pulls out of your mouth, the dildo making a hollow ‘pop’ as it leaves your lips. there is a heavy blush splaying across your face as you look up at her, your eyes watery and hooded as you make eye contact with the brunette.

“up.” she grunts as she roughly pulls you up by your hair. she lets out a low groan as you comply, the smirk never leaving her lips, “god, you’re such an eager whore for me.” she pushes you down onto her bed, causing you to let out a light whine. “jesus.” she mumbles, “needy bitch.”

Johanna reaches down, grabbing the hem of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one fluid movement. she gets on the bed, roughly pushing your legs apart so she could kneel between them. she strokes the strap along your folds, effectively gathering your juices on the length.

your back arches off the bed as the tip of the dildo repeatedly knocks against your clit.

“god, you’re fucking soaked.” Johanna mumbles, shoving the girthy length into your tight cunt, stretching you out a near painful amount. her one hand stays on your hip, gripping it harshly, as her other hand snakes up your body to your neck, which she grips with an equal harshness as your hip.

your head falls back as she holds onto your neck. almost as soon as she’s fully seethed inside of you she begins her relentless thrusts, grunting against your ear as she does so. “that’s it, pretty girl, take it. god. that’s it, yeah.” she grunts out.

she moves her hand from your hip to your thigh, tugging it up. she hooks her hand under your knee as she pushes it up against your chest.

Johanna continues to thrust against you, holding your knee to your chest and gripping at your neck. the new angle hits just right against your g-spot. you moan wildly, your eyes rolling back. the headboard smacks against the wall, accompanied by the sound of flesh slapping.

your mouth opens in a silent scream as your pussy tightens around Johanna’s strap, “gonna cum? already?” Johanna teases, her smirk evident as her face is pressed between your cheek and your ear. her grip tightens on your neck, effectively blocking your air passages. “god, needy fucking slut.” she mumbles, giving you a few more good thrusts before you cum around the dildo.

the brunette releases her grip on your neck as she pulls away slightly. you gasp for air, back arching of the bed in an attempt to allow more air into your lungs.

she quickly pulls out of you, slapping the palm of her hand on the side of your ass. “over.” she grunts. when she receives no reply or movement from you, she grabs your arm, forcefully pulling you up so she can push you down onto your front. “you’re fucking pathetic.” she breathes against the back of your neck as she leans over you, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you against her, she stays kneeled between your legs.

her strap is pressed against your ass as she nips at your neck, “pathetic little slut, can’t even take basic fucking orders.”

the brunette suddenly reaches forwards, grabbing both of your arms by your wrists, pulling them behind you. you let out a pitiful whine as your arms are pulled out from under you, your face landing in the duvet underneath you.

one of her toned hands holds your wrists behind your back, while the other stays planted on your hip.

“Johanna,” you whine, shoulders burning at the sudden movement of your arms.

“shh.” she murmurs as she pushes the length of the dildo into your sopping, sensitive pussy. “god.” she mumbles against the sweaty skin of your neck.

her hips snap forward and she lets out a low moan, the base of the faux cock nudging against her clit with every thrust.

as she begins to thrust inside of you again, bed shaking under you both, you can hear her grunting and groaning in your ear. you let out small whines and moans as she fucks into you.

“cum again, want you to cum with me.” she grunts demandingly. you can feel her open mouth against the back of your neck, panting heavily as she listens to your wild moans.

you let out a whine as you turn your face to the side, trying to look back at her “Jo,”

“just shut the fuck up.” the brunette practically growls as her hand shoots from your hip to clenching a fist full of your hair, shoving your face into the duvet once more, muffling your loud sounds.

she gives you a few final, quick thrusts, her hot breath fanning across the back of your neck. her legs shake as her climax hits her. after a moment she lets go of your wrists and hair, flopping over to the side of you.

she lets out a labored breath as she lazily pulls the strap from her hips, tossing it. she grins proudly as she looks over at your fucked out form. she sighs as she sits up, patting your thigh. “c’mon baby, up.” she hums.

Johanna stands from the bed, her knees slightly shaky from her orgasm only minutes before. “come on, sweet girl.” she says again, this time rolling you over in the bed so you now lay on your back.

you gaze up at her through hazy eyes as she pulls you towards her by your knees. the brunette watches you for a moment before something seemingly clicks in her head, “oh, ooh, i’ll be right back.” she mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before practically running towards the bathroom.

you pay your girlfriend little to no mind as you close your eyes, your body feels calm. except for the burn in your biceps and the ache in your shoulders.

after a few moments, Johanna returns. she lifts you up gently from the bed, holding you like a princess. you let your head fall to her shoulder as she begins slowly carrying you to where she once was. “don’t go fallin’ asleep on me now.” she teases, patting your thigh as she holds you.

“’m not,” you would roll your eyes at her, but they’re feeling too heavy to even think about giving the effort, so you just let your tone do the talking.

“mhmm,” Johanna chuckles, “ready for your bath?”

“yeah.” you mumble, still not moving an inch.

you whine as she sets you in the warm water, but you are once again soothed when you feel her slip in behind you, holding you against her as you sit between her legs.

“you did so good for me, princess.” she whispers against your ear as she almost immediately begins gently rubbing a washcloth over the expanse of your skin.

you lean your head back, once again resting it against her shoulder.

“Johanna?” your voice is soft as she continues to wash you.

“mhm?” the brunette hums in response.

“you ever tell me to shut up again, the capitol won’t be the only thing you have to be afraid of.” your voice is still soft, drowsy as you speak.

Johanna turns her head to you, finding you with your face turned towards her but your eyes closed. she lets out a soft chuckle, “yes ma’am.”

the room then falls into a comfortable silence, your girlfriend had taken to gently massaging your sore biceps as she finished washing your body.

“Johanna?” you whisper, effectively breaking the silence.

“yes, baby?” she responds, her voice just as soft as yours.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, y/n.” the smile is evident in her voice, and if your eyes were open you would have been able to notice the way her cheeks burned red at the exchanged words.

[xerotiny99]

Room for Two // No Saint No Saviour #1

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader (#1 in psychopath au) 

Warning: smut, dom!jongho, sub!reader, sociopath!jongho, naive!reader, stalking, very obsessive level of stalking and manipulation, Jongho is a psychopath, so he's cuckoo and desperate, manhandling, masturbating, masturbating to clothes, rough sex, unprotected sex, deep throat/ throat fucking, spit play (just a bit), pussy slapping, use of cuffs and chains. Stockholm syndrome. (Yikes)

Note: this is a little unhinged, so proceed with caution. Also, as per the request and many more options given, I chose psychopath au. Well borderline psychopath. Oops. ps: grab yourself a snack because this is long. :) Not proofread.

Requested By: from wattpad.

Gist: when your best friend's boyfriend decides to move in with her, you're left with no other choice but to find a new place for yourself. Of course, because three's a crowd. You do find a perfect new place, courtesy to your coworker who you didn't know existed till now. But maybe it was better if you hadn't interacted with him at all.

Song rec: I Want To by Rosenfeld.

Word Count: 21,474

  "I hate that you have to move out," your best friend, Na-Ra sulks watching you zip one of your bags.

You heave out a sigh and proceed to your other bag, this one was overflowing with your clothes; it's going to take a lot more than just simply zipping it around. Stumbling through the cluster of boxes, you sit on top of the bag and tug at the zipper. It comes halfway through and then gets stuck. Genius move.

"I have to move out because—" you keep pulling at the zipper, using all your force to close it. Even if it wasn't. "—you and Yeosang are little freaks who just can't keep it in their pants."

"Touché," Na-Ra mocks, leaning back further against the headboard of your bed, which unfortunately you'll have to leave behind, considering your new apartment is fully furnished.

You glare at her, and she pouts, teasing you further on with her quiet mumble, "let me have some fun, babe," her smile widens, "we're in our honeymoon phase, if not now than when?"

You shrug, struggling with the zipper because you were hell bent on closing the bag. Besides, your arm had started to strain and ache under the stress it was subjected to, not that you were going to learn anything from it. Listening to your friend's words, you force yourself to roll your eyes and glare at her.

"You've got your whole life ahead of you to do whatever with him," you hiss through your gritted teeth, "but no! You are kicking me out of your apartment for some average dick."

"Above average," she corrects you, "he's not that small you know." Her voice gets louder somehow, "besides, you yourself volunteered to move out!"

"Yes, because I don't want to be a third wheel. And Gross. That's T-M-I." You emphasise, "I would be the least interested person in your sex life, although some part of me already knows too much. Sometimes I wish I could burn my ears off, because of all that I've heard."

"Does the chaos sound like music to your ears?" she instigates, letting out a soft chuckle; she wouldn't let you know it, but the sight of you wrestling with the bag was certainly entertaining for her. "You're going to rip your hands out if you force it so much."

"Instead of being all smarty pants, why don't you come help me?" you groan, and she giggles softly, hopping off the bed.

She stands by the edge of your bed, gandering around till her heart drops; she'd miss you, and she had made it known to you for the past few days. Rummaging her eyes through the messy room, she suppresses a chuckle and shakes her head. Your room never stays messy, you were more of a perfectionist than keeping everything haphazardly strewn around. Well, you were OCD about all little things around you, which would make sense why you constantly strived for perfection.

Na-Ra walks over to you, stepping through the boxes carefully and crouching down in front of you; the flounce of her dress flutters around her when she sits down and casts you a hopeless glance. Her lips quiver just enough to make you realise how painful her trapped sentiments were. It must be tormenting for her to see you go, after all you two were best friends since high school. Your friendship with her has lasted forever, till either of you graduated from college, and got a job.

"I'm going to save you some tears," she begins, a pout casing her lips, "so, no melodrama. There are no bitter goodbyes, only cheerful farewells."

"This is not a farewell, come on," you assure her with a smile, "we'll meet all the time. I'm literally twenty minutes away from you. Give me a call. Set up a place. I'll be there. Probably, meet for a drink or something."

Her pout softens. Dragging on with her silence, she lets out an amused chuckle before playfully punching your arm. "Of course. How can I forget you don't function without liquor in your system."

"Hey! I never said anything about booze." You retaliate, defending yourself, "it's all on you. Though on the contrary, I think booze is just what I need right now because I've got work tomorrow."

"And what?" Na-Ra continues to laugh, "you're going to meet your new landlord half-buzzed out of your mind."

"As if 'sober-me' would have enough grit to talk to him," you mumble, your cheeks heating up at the mention of your landlord. "I think we both agreed he's adorable as fuck."

"He's cute," she shrugs, "just not my type. Hey, but there's nothing wrong with you liking him."

"I don't like him!"

You huff out, breathless and tired from pulling the zipper close. Taking a deep breath, you slide yourself off the bag and fall on the floor, right in front of your friend who offers you a smug smile.

"Na-Ra, I really don't like him," you state, sternly as so to make a point, "I didn't even know of his existence until Yunho told me he was looking for a tenant to sublet his spare apartment." Pausing shortly after, you fidget with your fingers and heave out a sigh, "and then my desperation got the worst of me. I agreed to it without thinking or looking into his background. But if Yunho says he's a great guy, then he is. Maybe. I trust Yunho."

"You'd have to be some different kind of unbothered and pathetic to not know he existed as your coworker," she snides.

You roll your eyes, leaning back into your unzipped bag, and frowning softly, "don't blame me, he's a tech guy and I'm in the management department. There'd be no reason for us to meet, unless I have any issues with the software or my computer."

"Which I assume you never needed." She deadpans, checking the time on her wristwatch before tapping your thigh in urgency, "well, we better get to work. Is this the last of your luggage?"

"Yep, these boxes and two bags; other stuff has been moved already." You gander at your half-closed bag behind you, "I can't get this bag to close, so guess it's just one now."

"I'll bring it over when I get the time to. Does it have something important?" she questions, and you shake your head, "nothing that I need urgently, just some spare clothes and kinky underwear I stopped wearing after, you know..."

The way you trail off sends an immediate jolt of remembrance in her; she doesn't want to respond to it, but also doesn't want to keep you in the loop of reminiscing those sullen days. You catch the littlest of distortion on her face, the kind which makes her seem like she's sad or melancholic. And you thought this won't be a sad goodbye. You dust yourself off from the ground, given you were thinking about your past; in a way to elaborate, the past you were thinking about was the time when you broke up with your boyfriend. Many would tell, you were the perfect couple, but perfect doesn't seem to cover the improper cracks and absurd excuses—nah, it brings out suspicions. Three years into the relationship and you got to know he had another chick to entertain all along. Heartbroken but not really broken with your dignity, you left him, no matter how much he begged you not to.

In retrospect, you were done being the naive and gullible deer everyone used to their own gain. Not that you could say the same thing about your work life now. Ever since you had befriended a certain person, you were starting to understand the functioning of lying men. The knowledge authentically supplied to you by your work friend, Jeong Yunho. To say the least about him, he was a giant teddy bear, always towering over you and giving you unwanted hugs. Some being bone crushing too. Your friendship was a little delicate, but you were always on good terms with each other. When he heard your woes on your living arrangements, considering you had sieved through most of the details, he quickly came up with a solution.

His response to you was, "hey, if you're in a fix, I heard Jongho is looking for tenant to rent his spare apartment to. You should talk to him."

And your initial reaction was, "Jongho, who?"

It was not entirely your fault to not be up to date with what goes in your workplace; besides, Jongho was a tech guy, belonging to the cyber security team who had a different schedule compared to you. In the end, things do turn out for the better. You were merely an acquaintance with Jongho, the current dynamic being changed from strangers since he called you over to show you around his spare apartment. You couldn't complain much, and to be fair, there wasn't much to complain about either.

The spare apartment was neat, clean, and well maintained, to top it off, it was even furnished so you had nothing to worry about. As Jongho chattered your ear off, he mentioned that he had possessed the apartment from his late aunt, from her will. He didn't know what to do with it since he had already bought an apartment in the same building (after liking how perfect his aunt's apartment was for him) and had settled down properly. It would be an unnecessary bother to move out, given he hadn't just rented it but in actuality, bought it under his name.

Jongho was a sweet guy, he had a great personality, a good sense of humour and his cheeky smile was so infectious. The day you met him, you were totally swept away, not just by his geeky appearance but because of his character. He respected you, your decisions, made you feel comfortable even though you were practically strangers at the beginning—overall he had left his mark on you. The good kind of course. From that day onwards, you and Jongho started talking at your workplace; a new friendship in the making while Yunho left out, of sorts. He did not bring it to your attention, however.

A few more days of talking, frequent coffee breaks spent at Jongho's desk, and the unprecedented lunch 'dates', you were a little smitten with Jongho. Who wouldn't be? Jongho was a dreamboat, fitting to your expectations of what and how a man should really be and foremost, he was the greenest flag from all the stupefying caricatures you had dated in the past. Including your cheating ex.

All that aside, to say you were a little excited to move into your place, would be an understatement. You had been looking forward to it from the day you finalised the deal with Jongho. Okay, you can't really validate your feelings based on how good of a man he was. For all you know he could even be a serial killer, or a psychopath. Well maybe you shouldn't think too dark about it. Or maybe you shouldn't have discarded that thought the moment it popped in your head.

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

           "You know, if you had told me beforehand, I would've come over to help you," Jongho says it as a matter factly, smiling at you with the same warmth as he did when you two first met.

And just as that time, he was peculiarly happy and proud; you observed him from head to toe, admiring him and his sense of fashion. Clad in a simple navy-blue cardigan and black pants, he made very little efforts to look this pretty. Not to mention, his black rimmed glasses which were thick and sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. You were pleased with him, and his littlest of efforts. Other than the obvious fact that you were starting to view him in a different light.

"Eh, couldn't trouble you," you grunt while picking up a box from the trunk of your car; pouting silly, you watch Jongho pick one too regardless of you telling him not to. "You're really stubborn, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I don't like doing what told to," he chuckles, his teeth on display, "and what, do you think I can't carry this box, which feels like it's filled with feathers, up five flights of stairs?"

"No, I did not mean it like that," you defend your initial remark, knowing it was a mere request from you to him.

"I'm very much secure with my masculinity, buttercup," his lips twitch to a teasing smile, "though it doesn't make sense to mention it afore you."

"To reassure you, I wasn't questioning your masculinity," you giggle, "it was more of a formality. You know, can't let you do any of my things because you've already done too much for me."

"That's all balderdash."

He waves you off, holding the box in one hand and using the other to close the trunk of your car, while making sure you weren't standing any closer to it. The sound of the slam makes you flinch, in bewilderment however more in fear; his brute strength would be surprising, surprisingly strong to know you'd be helpless against him if he ever tries something on you. Which, a thought, you again considered to be the folly of your mind, because why would a guy like him do anything against your will? Mistake.

The two of you, walk inside the lobby of your new apartment complex, technically it was his too. According to your knowledge, Jongho owned a place on the seventh floor while his aunt's apartment was on the fifth floor. An accented mahogany table sits empty upfront, probably the reception desk or something. Adjacent to the desk, lies a wall with mailboxes: golden doored, metallic numbers of the apartments, and the acrid stench of something rotting. You were taken back by it, by how that particular area reeked of rotting flesh, but the entire place smelled moth-eaten, stale as if. This sure leaves an eldritch sense of horror in you, because at the time of your first inspection, this place was nothing alike to what you're witnessing right now. Regardless, you decide to push it down, not bothered by the fetor, or the forsaken desk in front.

Jongho guides you to the stairwell, veiled behind a heavy looking door; the elevator is out of order, unfortunately. Even after countless complains to the manager, the elevator hadn't been repaired or had any signs of mending. Jongho pushes the door open, grunting under his breath—the door did seem heavy and substantial, no wonder his cheeks were flustered by an inch when he ushered you in.

"Ladies first," he adds.

"Oh why, thank you kind sir." You bow your head a little, joking along with him.

Jongho lets the door close behind you, and continues, "you know, I chose to help you. So, it's my responsibility to make sure everything is perfect."

"I think you've done enough; I have nothing to complain about." You start climbing up the stairs, with him in your pursuit; you glance over your shoulder and offer him a genuine smile, "besides, I was pretty ignorant about...you. To think I didn't know you even existed until Yunho brought it up."

Jongho's eyes darken only for a moment, only so for you to catch a flash of uncertain turpitude in them. Feeling a sense of unease crawl your spine, you stare straight ahead and hasten your pace up the stairs; not so quick for him to get suspicious.

"It's alright," he dismisses, voice sullen, "everything happens for a reason, doesn't it? If your friend's boyfriend hadn't moved in with her, or if you hadn't brought up your living situation with Yunho, I doubt you'd ever have noticed me."

"What's your agenda?" you scoff, "you're making me feel bad about myself."

"Dearest apologies," he mumbles, "I meant to infer that you and I were destined to meet, one way or another."

"When you put it like that, it doesn't make me seem so...selfish." You mutter under your breath.

To your assumption, you must've climbed up two floors; and it confirms when you pass the landing area for the second floor. Jongho is still walking behind you, noticing you, wanting to keep you engaged in a conversation. He doesn't really say anything for a minute however, bating you in the silence of nothing till you heave out a sigh and grow tired of it.

"It's just weird how one thing leads to another," you break the silence, "it's almost like a fate's blueprint, you were ordained to meet each other at this given time, in this given situation."

Noting the hesitance in your tone, Jongho bites back on his concern and questions you diligently. "Are you having second thoughts about the move?"

"What? No!" you're too quick to dismiss him off, not because he had pressed your nerve, but rather because you didn't want to seem ungrateful. "This is the best decision I ever made. Trust me."

"Agreed, otherwise you'd be stuck listening to the very annoying and loud moans of your best friend. I know it infuriates you." He chuckles, "don't worry, the walls here are thick so you won't be needing your noise cancelling headphones anymore."

"That's right..." you chortle along him with, which soon dies to a sudden burst of tranquility upon realising an odd point about him.

You halt in your steps, standing still in the landing between the third and fourth floor, unmoving till he calls out your name.

"Why did you stop?"

You turn around to face him; you were sure he could notice the drain of colour from your face, or even how delicately your lips were trembling to get your words out.

"It's kind of odd how you know..." you drag your words into a whisper, "I never mentioned it, did I?"

You never mentioned it to him before, never told him you wore headphones while going to bed. Was that just a coincidence? Or was it his hunch? Though, on the contrary, was he keeping an eye on you? The latter option just feels wrong, so you fling it straight out the window.

Jongho's face twitches with reluctance for a mere second before his lips curve into a flattering grin. "It's only obvious you'd be using them while sleeping, if your roommates are too loud. Agreed you didn't mention it particularly, but you did tell me that they were stuck in a honeymoon phase. Why else would I even say it?"

"Makes sense," you shrug and continue on with your walk, not giving it much thought anymore.

Jongho heaves out a sigh of relief, appeased by his piddling attempt to cover up his mistake. Nonetheless, he knows he has to use his words with utmost restraint and choose them well before speaking. He can't have you doubting him, suspecting his good character over the silly rashness of his avidity towards you. Like a shadow, he creeps behind you, never letting you know of his presence; he's foreboding, professing predisposition to the ordeal of what he painted as 'work of destiny'. Was it really the work of destiny to get you two together?

Only time would tell.

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

    ��        "Cool place, babe." Na-Ra comments, ogling around your living room with her boyfriend strapped to her waist. "Very niche, I must admit."

Her boyfriend, sticking to her waist like some parasite, pouts and lets out a sweet-sounding chuckle, "I agree. A humbling abode for a woman like you. Suits you well."

"Oh, why thank you, Yeosang." You roll your eyes, "I still need to work on some stuff, decorate a couple of crooks and crannies."

"Puh-lease," your coworker's snort resounds from the couch, "you flipped this place over from an abandoned domicile to an elaborate habitat of pink."

"Geez Louise, Yunho," you deadpan, "if you abhor pink just let me know. I'll redo everything in black—just like your soul."

"That sounds like too much work," his brows tuck together while he replies, "and too many efforts. Don't waste them for my sake."

He tugs on the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning it further till he reaches second button; Yunho's tall stature sits awkwardly on the couch, his legs spread in front of him, while he slouches just a little against the back of the couch. Lethargy is quite evident on his face, regardless he proffers you a giddy smile and asks you to hand him a bottle of beer. It was his third one of the nights, there were many more to come.

You scoff, moving away from your friend and her boyfriend, to get yourself a drink from the snacks table you had arranged. Picking out two bottles of beer, you hand one to Yunho and settle down next to him. The day was here, the day where your best friend whined on about how you should host a housewarming party; regardless of you renting it. So, there you were, a little after midnight, relieved from your day job, hanging out in your new apartment with your friends. Except for Jongho. You couldn't find him anywhere after work and thought the only feasible thing to do was to leave a voicemail on his phone.

"I think you should really get on with the balcony," Yeosang snides, coming to sit on the chair next to the couch with Na-Ra tucked by his side; he settles down comfortably first and then pulls his girlfriend on his lap. "It has a good view of the city, and the sky. Maybe lay out a carpet, get a swing chair and add some plants to spice it up a bit."

Na-Ra nods her head, "talk about having a perfect romantic setting."

"Guys, I hear you," you roll your eyes, "unfortunately the reins to make any updates around here are with Jongho. I can't do anything without his permission."

"He won't mind the minor changes," Yunho shrugs, chugging a good deal of his beer while making eye contact with you, "bet he'd get on it with you, knowing he has a soft spot for you."

"Bullshit," you mumble, guzzling your beer down, "he doesn't have a soft spot for me."

"Oh, yeah. He doesn't. He doesn't have a soft spot for you and he didn't just help you out with your living situation." Na-Ra speaks up, "he didn't feel bad when you told him you never noticed him in your workplace. And he helps you out with everything and never says no. Yep, that sums it up, he doesn't have a soft spot for you."

"Says a lot about him," Yeosang simply pouts and shakes his head, "one would have to be really oblivious to not notice the signs."

Na-Ra gets up, going to grab a couple of beer bottles, chiming to her boyfriend's remark, "don't worry, she's always been a little naive about those things." She comes back and returns to her place, rightfully in Yeosang's lap and raises her bottle to you, giving the other one to her boyfriend, "it took her two years to realise Song-Wook had been flirting with her. So, I won't be surprised if she takes another two years with Jongho too."

"Damn, kid. Two years?" Yunho snickers, tracing the tip of his forefinger on the rim of the bottle, "two years to fathom a dick had been dallying with you? Well, Jongho better be upfront with you if he wants to have a shot with you."

"Don't you have something better to do?" you glare at Na-Ra first, then at Yeosang, and finally, Yunho. Grinding your teeth, you murmur out a tired sigh, "my love life is one one's concern. And it shouldn't be either."

"You think we won't be concerned after that ugly blowup with your ex?" Na-Ra says, sipping her beer, "that jerk was cheating on you."

"Are we talking about...?" Yunho trails off, keeping his now empty bottle of beer on the coffee table in front of him.

You nod at him, indicating he was on the right track; noticing your sullen eyes, he proceeds to say something, but it's lost in the slightest tremble of his lips when the doorbell buzzes loud. The intercom chimes in next, speaker propagating a man's voice laden in static.

"Hey, it's me. Jongho."

You get up from the couch and march your way to the front door. This seemed weird to you because Jongho knows the passcode to the door already. Why wouldn't he use it to let himself in? Brushing those doubts away, you begrudgingly open the door and find Jongho standing with his hands occupied in holding a small box. The shimmering ribbons on it could certainly provide you with assumptions and predictions.

You usher him in, he mumbles a soft 'thank you' to you before slipping out of his boots and into the house slippers you lay out for him. He's walking right behind you, carefully holding the box in his hands while you guide him to the living room where the others' smiles were hinting at something else. Jongho places the box on the coffee table and sits next to Yunho on the couch; eyeing Na-Ra and Yeosang with much vacillation of his trust, he turns to you and offers you a benign smile.

"My hands were full," he begins, "otherwise, I would've let myself in." Looking around, he notices a couple of things but doesn't voice out his thoughts, instead, he fixates his eyes on you. "Am I late to the party?"

He sounds guilty. You wave him off, striding over to sit on the extra chair next to the couch; bringing your legs up, you pull your knees close to your chest and wrap your arms around them.

"Not really," you reassure him, "we were just cracking some fatuous chatters and nothing else. You didn't miss a lot."

"Well, I hope I didn't," he chuckles and leans over to untie the ribbons on the box he had brought with him. "I'm not so up to date with these gatherings, so I just got a cake. Everyone likes a cake, right?"

Yunho coos, "so adorable of you. A little sweetness is what we need."

"And a heck lot of calories," Na-Ra comments.

"Which you'll be burning off once we get back home," Yeosang adds, and everyone groans except for Na-Ra.

"Please, we don't need your sexual innuendos ruining our peace," you grumble and run your hand over your face. Composing an adorable smile, you glance at Jongho and muse, "that's really nice of you, Jongho. But you didn't have to get anything. This is more like a make-believe party I was forced to host, cause some people here are really stubborn."

You glare at Na-Ra and all she does is rolls her eyes and drinks more of her beer.

"So, you expect me to come empty handed?" Jongho retaliates, opening the box to reveal the cake in it. "Ouch, that hurts."

"I didn't mean that," you whine, defending yourself. "You're playing a very risky game, Jongho."

"And it seems like I'm winning?" he mocks, carefully picking the cake out of the box and placing it on the table. "Well, to your new beginnings in this house."

You watch Jongho as he pulls out a small candle from the pocket of his pants and takes its cover off before stabbing it through the cake. The candle sits in the centre, while Yunho lights it up with his lighter he usually has on himself; Na-Ra and Yeosang are the bystanders, observing, acknowledging.

"Okay, make a wish," Yunho jokes when Jongho brings the cake to you, "not exactly what I expected I'd be saying."

Jongho stands next to you, leaning over while holding the cake in front of you; with a nudge of his head, he brings it a little closer to you and you blow out the candle. And no, you did not make a wish as Yunho asked you to, which you were regretting because you really wanted to make a wish. Applause resounds from your guests, Na-Ra cheers a phrase which is incoherent, and inaudible, considering how lost you were in Jongho's eyes. The warmth of hazel in them is contrasting, a lot—but there's avidity in them, bringing you closer to him. You're leaning, inching your way to him to touch his lips, at least your heart was forcing you to.

"Let's cut the cake, shall we," Yunho announces, making the two of you flinch and pull back.

"You guys have fun," Na-Ra pipes in, however, dejected. "I have to be early for work tomorrow. Duty calls, sadly. I'll be around quite often. So, don't be disheartened."

"I'm not," you deadpan, but soon soften yourself when Na-Ra and Yeosang get up from the chair to leave.

"Yeah, before we leave, I got your luggage," she winks, hinting at something and you do catch up on it, "I left it in the trunk and thought I'd have Yeosang bring it up while leaving."

"Oh, more luggage?" Yunho questions, "how many bags do you have, jeez."

"Just enough for my clothes," you shrug, "under some unforeseen circumstances, I had to abandon this one there."

"Yeah, by unforeseen you mean haphazard work of stuffing all your clothes into one bag, so the zipper doesn't close," Na-Ra jokes, both of them now at the front door. She lets out a soft chuckle, "okay, we better leave before you murder me with your eyes."

"I wish it worked that way. But if you don't visit me often, then I might," you threaten her playfully, getting up from the chair and going to engulf her in a warm hug.

Na-Ra embraces you tighter to herself, returning your enthusiasm; you keep yours and Yeosang's hug a little short. The two of them are out of the front door when Jongho interrupts your last whiling farewells.

"I think it's better if I tag along and get the luggage myself. You won't have to make a double trip up." He stands next to you, by the open door. Offering a small smile to Yeosang and Na-Ra, he too then slips in boots and leaves with him.

Na-Ra waves you off energetically, appearing a little disappointed with how things had to end tonight. Nevertheless, she doesn't let it show on her face as she's leaving with Yeosang, and Jongho in their pursuit. You flash them one last smile and shut the door; a sigh parts your lips regardless and sulking you return back on the couch next to Yunho. He hums a soft tune before grasping your shoulder, pressing his fingers to massage gently before sliding his hand to your back.

"You're not alone," he whispers, "but I can tell why you'd feel lonely."

"Five years living with her," you continue, merely in a mumble as you look at him, eyes showcasing your glum heart. "Five years and we separate now. We've been childhood friends, you know. Never went by a day without each other."

"Nothing could've prepared you for this day," he shrugs, pulling you close to his chest, giving you a much-needed sympathetic hug. His scent dithers your senses to nothing, a bit calming but that's all it was. "Female friendships are precious, endearing even."

You nod, tracing your hand along his which were wound tightly around your waist; you were starting to creep up on the sense that this hug wasn't anything close to friendly. Though, at the moment, when you were too lost in dwelling on your memories with Na-Ra, you didn't mind staying a bit longer, not that you cared since he was trying to blur the line of friends and lovers between you two. It wouldn't come off as a surprise, you were well aware of Yunho's adoration for you, but maybe you always pushed it aside since you viewed at him through nothing but a friendly gaze.

The serenity in the moment is too loud, too rapturing for you to notice someone walking in through the front door. When the gentle lock of the door clicks, is what makes you flinch and pull away from Yunho, eyes straining across to find Jongho's silhouette standing at a distance from you two. He holds onto the handle of your bag, knuckles going white from how tight he held. Squeezing till his fingers are all around the handlebar, he fixates his glare on you, both of you for that matter. A haze of dark crosses his eyes, submerging in the warmth they once held, and disappearing almost too quick for you to puzzle out. His lips curve, almost in a dainty manner before they're delving deep into his cheeks; that maniacal smile, the touch of just a little crazy was driving fear into your spine.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asks, rolling the bag out of his way, before fixing his eyes on Yunho.

The older doesn't make a sound, not even a as he scrambles to his feet and dusts his shirt off. "Yeah, no, nothing at all. I was just leaving."

It seemed like he was weighing his words carefully, trudging to the front door before grabbing his coat from the rack next to it; Yunho offers you a gentle smile, yet it was indiscernible to the course of his and Jongho's interaction. He shrugs on his coat and leaves without uttering a single word, stranding you bemused amid the living room. Jongho's apparent smile had turned a little inane for you.

"He didn't have to leave in such a rush," Jongho says, "anyway, are you in the mood for some wine?"

The sudden contrast in his words and demeanour causes to rift in between, driving countless doubts in your mind till they're diminished to nothing by Jongho's gummy smile. His eyes are trained on you, intensely piercing as if to manipulate your mind into his own. Striking out the possible cynicism in your head, you nod and curl your lips frailly so to reassure him.

"Sounds good to me."

"Of course," he chides, "I believe I have an unopened bottle lying somewhere around in the kitchen."

"Oh," your lips round themselves, voice barely audible. "That was yours? I recall seeing it in the cabinet above the stove; I did not open it and instead chucked it in the fridge."

"No worries."

He waves you off, disappearing in the dimly lit hallway and making his way into the kitchen. After listening to some shuffling around in there, his footsteps muffle and ascend from the hallway, emerging out with two glasses for wine and the bottle itself. Instead of placing the glasses and the bottles on the table, he nudges his head in the direction of the balcony; the balcony adjoined the living room with full length doors sliding open and close. You follow his suit, walking a step behind him.

Cold shivers run down your spine when he leads you out on the balcony; a scenic view awaits you, that is if you consider the dilly dally of empty streets as scenic or even close to it. The moon is hung high in the sky—a cloudless sky. Stars are prominent in the dark, and the moonlight shudders along to illuminate your surroundings. Jongho helps you down on the floor, laden with a dusty carpet, probably serving its purpose from the beginning. Taking a beat to himself, he settles next to you and places the bottle and glasses in between you two.

"It has always been a perfect place to share wine with someone," he murmurs against the night wind, which kisses your face and stings a little. "Needs a little revamping, however. You know to make it a little more mawkish."

"I'd agree," you relate, looking around till your eyes are back on him.

He doesn't make a sound; save for the mumbled grunt he lets out while unscrewing the cork on the wine bottle using his car keys. Pop. The cork comes off, slipping out the rim. Jongho's lips twist in a lopsided smile as he pours you a glass first and hands it to you; preparing the other glass for himself, he keeps the bottle aside and clinks it with yours. You take a sip, relishing the bittersweet taste of the wine before bringing the glass away from your lips. Jongho stares at you a minute longer than he had intended to, peering at you to notice all your details. He adores the tiny scrunch of your eyebrows, or the way your lips tremble when you wince out from the unsweetened taste of the wine. Taking a sip for himself, he stares straight ahead; not much to the view, nonetheless he admired the dusky sky of the night.

You had an inkling that you were biting back on, a petty notion about him acting out on his envy when he saw you with Yunho. It was a friendly gesture on his part, wasn't it? Still and all, you couldn't figure out the exact sentiments of Yunho's hug—it'd be little strung out of you to consider it being more than a chaste sentiment. Howsoever, you couldn't resist overthinking and drowning yourself in it, till you're turning to him and biting on your lower lip.

"What you saw with Yunho..." you mumble, getting his attention.

His eyes are affixed on you, lips contorted to a frown, "hey, it's none of my concerns. I've seen you to share some physical affinity. Wouldn't have been surprised if I were to catch you two making out."

Even if his words were inspiring, you couldn't help but notice the abstruse tone laced to them, or the fact that his eyes were dismal and fatalistic. You wonder, or it does seem to astonish you how easily and deliberately the colour in his eyes changes, almost in a fraction of a second.

"I'm not that close with him," you shrug and take another sip of your wine. "Agreed, we've been hanging out a lot and he keeps me company at work, but there's nothing between us."

"And you thought I'd be interested in knowing that because...?" he instigates, taking you off guard.

You stumble in your words for a second, observing how his thumb rubs circles on the glass he holds. Murmuring to yourself, you look away from him. "Because, maybe, I think, or speculate that you might..."

"I might?"

"You might have a crush on me."

There you said it. Your heart palpitates so hard in your chest, your mind is a blur, and your voice is trapped in your throat; could you even recover from whatever his response might be to your unsolicited assumption? He would have to speak to know what he really thinks of your blabber. But, upon hearing nothing from him, you tilt your head with remaining courage in yourself and find him staring at you instead.

"What?"

He chuckles, his shoulders convulsing with it before he chugs down the entire glass of wine; he leans closer to you, too close to let his breath fan your cheeks. Even so, with his lips ghosting yours, you couldn't comprehend the diminished distance between you two. What would it take for a kiss to happen in this moment? A simple tilt of anyone's head? Or a leap of faith?

"I thought I was getting ahead of myself by not confessing," he simpers, "everyone knows except for you. It was so obvious."

His wispy words were hot on your cheeks. Sadly, the glare of moonlight on his glasses made it hard for you to read what his eyes entailed. You could be assuming right now, but you were starting to gamble on the kiss. Does he mean for it happen? Do you mean for it happen? It's a perfect setting overall, cold night, moon in the sky, stars glimmering, and all while the city falls asleep. Undeniably beautiful. Something out of a fairy tale.

"I mean, I'm an airhead. Who didn't even know of your name before..." you mumble under your breath and tuck yourself closer to him, keeping your glass aside.

"I think we should take a veto on the whole 'not knowing you before you offered to help' trope." He laughs out softly, bringing his hand up to cup your jaw and then eventually your cheek. "I'll admit. When I saw you and Yunho sticking to each other like that, I was jealous. Only a tinge. Felt it rage in me. It would've pensively killed me if you two had..."

"Kissed?"

"Yeah." He tugs himself to you, putting his glass to the side to cup your face in both of his hands now. His warmth spreads under your skin, tickling your senses till they're numb. "Maybe, the longer you wait the sweeter the fruit tastes."

You hum along and extinguish the mere distance between you two; the touch of your lips is cold at first, but the warmth of his palms endearing your cheeks makes up for it. The mere brush of your lips drives you wild, enamoured with the thought of kissing and sucking them. Without much hesitance, Jongho pulls back and hooks his finger under the arms of his glasses to flick them to a side. And once they were off, he dives in to capture your lips in a kiss ever so sensual for you to decipher.

His hands slide to your waist, placing themselves on the either side to help leverage his body into yours. The moment your body collides with each other, the untapped heat comes alive and inflames your soul. You could hear the minor shuffling of your clothes; of the shirt he wore and your lace top barreling into one another. Jongho's hands tighten on your waist, pushing himself closer to deepen the kiss; you angle your head to make it easier for him, easier for him to slip his tongue in your mouth.

Stifling on a giddy titter, you bring your hands to his shoulders and then gently tug your fingers around his neck. Though, in meagre seconds, you're dragging them across to tangle them in his silky locks. Jongho lets out an amused laugh, though it gets muffled when his tongue drones over yours and rubs against every corner of your fervent mouth. You're far too gone to realise how delicate his touch was, how delicately one of his hands had slipped past the hem of your top. His fingertips were searing on your skin, sizzling with a want, a desire to caress and kiss every inch of you.

Regardless of how heated and passionate the kiss was, or how intense your feelings were for him, you pull back. Your heart grows heavy, stubborn to the increasing coldness between you two; Jongho's glides out of your mouth, a few saliva strings joining your lips together. He doesn't let his disappointment show on his face, he doesn't seem disappointed at all. There's a sheepish smile on his face and it sort of, recites the tunes of his heart.

"I wish..." you trail off, breathless while resting your forehead against his, "I wish we could let this escalate. But..."

"But?" he whispers, both hands now under your top, thumbs rubbing circles on your skin. Comforting.

"I'm not sure about us, yet. I don't want to dive headfirst into this and later on realise that we weren't meant to be together." You speak your heart out, however, it does baffle Jongho, only to the slightest.

You thought he'd throw a tantrum, argue, make you realise your worries were nothing but piddling hoaxes. But he doesn't. He doesn't go along with your fears and offers you a warming smile, the archetypal one which makes you forget about your woes and terrors. You could call yourself dramatic, but with guys like Jongho, your insecurities always resurfaced; guys like him, the ones who put you above everything else, make sure you're loved by them, are rare. Your trauma from loving all the wrong guys is still very much alive in your mind. It goes without saying, you'll need time to heal, or get used to Jongho's love.

"It's okay, moonpie." You chuckle at the allotted nickname, and he continues, "you still have scars from your past, and as much as I know, scars don't heal. They leave ugly marks behind; and nothing about you is ugly to me. Never in my eyes. You can take your time, figure out what you want and be determined. Having a loveless relationship, which you only agreed to because you didn't want to hurt my feelings, would be equivalent to being thrown in a prison for a crime you didn't commit."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

           "The shower was working just fine yesterday," you whine, agitated by the struggle of buttoning the cuffs of your shirt.

"It's fine," Jongho assures you, "I've called the plumber. He'll look into it, make necessary repairs and fix it before you're back from work. Okay?"

"Thanks a lot, Jongho," you mutter in urgency, still struggling with the buttons on your cuffs. "Thanks for letting me use yours."

"No problem." He adds with a dainty chortle, "you're welcomed any time."

This was turning into a nightmare, the way your clothes weren't cooperating with you, just as the shower didn't in the morning. You would have no reason to be in Jongho's apartment, in his lavish and spacious bedroom if not for your shower breaking down early in the morning. These series of unfortunate events were predestined to fall through on an important day for you, on the day you were expected to be punctual, professional and comme il faut. Only a few people from work were alerted about the meeting with the board of directors, you were one of them. Jongho wasn't likely needed, even having received an email from the company saying so, he didn't really bother to attend the meeting and took a sick leave. And looking at him, all hale and hearty, you surmised he just didn't want to be at work today.

"I can't believe you lied about your sick leave," you roll your eyes, bending over to catch your reflection in the mirror of his dresser. "I mean, this meeting sounds crucial and there you are, skipping on it like you don't care."

You watch him shift in bed, propping himself against the headboard while holding a book in his hands; his glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, yet he uses his forefinger to push the further up. There's an unreadable expression glinting in his eyes, and of course, the glares of his glasses make it hard to discern. He doesn't really answer your question or show slightest of interest in what you had been yapping about. Because, he was solely focused on your figure, on the way your skirt hugged your hips and carved out your body, how the top few buttons of your blouse were undone to expose your cleavage and how tempting you appeared to him as you were bent over to fix your earrings in the mirror.

"Cat got your tongue?" you glare at him through the mirror, finding his gaze fixed on you too.

He shakes his head, almost on an instinct, "too focused on reading this book."

"The book you've kept closed for the past thirsty minutes?" you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. For a fact, you were already aware of his thirsty eyes lurking on you.

He clears his throat, "I'm reflecting on the parts I've read."

"Of course you are."

"I'm not lying." His cheeks turn red as you keep your eyes on him. "Whatever, aren't you getting late for work?"

"Thanks for reminding me again," you roll your eyes, yet again, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before stepping away. "How do I look?"

You wait for him to give you his feedback, impatiently dragging your hands across the lower half of your blouse, which was tucked in the risqué black pencil skirt hugging your butt and thighs. He wouldn't have a chance to say otherwise, he doesn't really have to because watching how sensual your professional wear was, he bites back on a wince and shakes his head.

"Are you sure you're dressed formally?" he asks, keeping his book aside on the nightstand next to his bed. "It might send a wrong message to the board of directors."

"Are you talking about the blouse?" you muse, "it's not that revealing. Come on."

He heaves a defeated sigh, watching you tug at the collars of your blouse to let your chest jut out even more. "Fine, you look absolutely stunning. Still professional. So, best of luck."

"Thank you." You wink at him and trudge away from the dresser, "in any case, I'm leaving. You call the plumber and get my shower repaired."

"Yes, ma'am." He gives you a two-finger salute and giggles softly. "Now, go. You've got an important meeting waiting for you."

"Right, right."

With that, you leave his room, eventually slipping out of his apartment and taking the stairwell to yours. It has been couple of weeks of now, if you were keeping a count, then it was now your tenth week since moving into Jongho's spare apartment. Things have been better, they're smooth; your situation has improved a lot, compared to living with Na-Ra and her boyfriend getting it on every single time of the day and night. Every dark cloud has a silver lining, your silver lining was your new apartment and hanging out with Jongho a lot, but your dark cloud would have to be how Yunho had suddenly distanced himself from you. Of course you had never had any issues with him, you were close, always have been, but there was no logical explanation to why he had turned a cold shoulder to you, out of nowhere.

You aren't bothered by him as much, not because at least you got to see him at work and talk a little (confined to only work related). Getting in your apartment, you grab your necessary things, one of which was your purse and a work file, and hastily leave too. No second look overs in the mirror, or no breaks for grabbing a quick snack from your refrigerator, you're out of your apartment in a blink of an eye. You were in a hurry, and it was starting to show.

Jongho throws the sheets to a side, kicking his legs off the bed and strolling casually around and out of his bedroom; he was astounded by your presence, a lot. He was however glad to help you out when you needed it the most. Even if it meant he had to create your problems to offer his help. Now, you might not want to go on Jongho's innocent mien, or the front he puts on for his helpless victims to gain their trust and resolve. Jongho, in the society's minds, was this perfectly shaped and well-behaved person; though to the contrary, one who has witnessed his darker, steeper, creepier parts of life, could tell he's one son of a bitch.

A sociopath is what they call the people who are severely antisocial, with no regard for morales. Or, as what Jongho's therapist had once called him. Jongho had attachment issues, it rooted from his childhood, amongst his family; it grew and thrived in his mind, until his obsessions took over. Jongho would obsess over people. First, it was his mother, then his girlfriend and now you. He was obsessed with you, very much inclined to be with you at all times.

You thought Jongho extended a helping hand out of sheer desperation or love? Think again. Everything had been planned, by his evil mind from the start, from the day he had seen you in a cafe with your best friend, from the moment you walked past him at work; Jongho had always had his eye on you at work, obsessed with you, and moderately aggravated by your ignorance towards him. It might seem coincidental to him, having seen you in the cafe the first time, then finding out you were his coworker in the same company—a mere coincidence. Or fate?

Jongho had his planned nailed down to the T. He knew your girlfriend's boyfriend would move in with her, well considering he had allegedly constructed it to happen, he knew you would find a new place to move in because of their ruckus, and of course, he knew you would turn to Yunho, who mind not, was his accomplice in this whole thing. Ha, and you thought Yunho genuinely wanted to help you. Silly you.

Turning a corner along the long stretching hallway, Jongho enters a room; he closes the door shut behind him and walks on further to the various screens blaring on a wall. There are approximately fifteen screens, all showing the black and white reels of your apartment. Yeah, he had fitted several cameras in your apartment before you moved in, at various angles, getting all good shots of you. He sits down on the chair placed in front of the screens, pushing his glasses up, he starts going through each of the screen for your silhouette. Knowing you aren't in your apartment, he still double checks, wanting to be sure of it. Once he knows you really not there, he gets up from chair, tugs on the sleeves of his cashmere sweater and smirks devilishly to himself.

He has a perfect opportunity now, to sneak into your apartment and indulge in his darkest of desires. Standing in front of your apartment door, he punches in the code and enters; he makes his way around, leisurely strolling till he's in your bedroom. Ah, the broken shower, which wasn't really broken—he had only turned its water supply off. Jongho's smirk keeps growing into his cheeks, a sense of satisfaction over taking his heart before his lust and detrimental obsession kicks in.

Sauntering in your bedroom, he comes across your laundry basket strewn in a corner. Clothes overflow, the flap of the basket remains half open, and bits of your lingerie sticks out. He crouches down on his knees, pushing the flap open to see it for himself. The strap of your lacy bra was tucked out of the basket, under which he hooks his finger and gently pulls out; his gaze admires the flimsy fabric, the floral pattern of the net and how it would cover nothing of your skin when you'd wear it. He was picturing it, shamelessly pitching a tent in his pants. He couldn't help it. Keeping your bra aside, he fishes through the rest of the clothes and finds your lacy knickers too; so, your bra and these panties are a pair, he thinks to himself before pushing himself off the ground and going to sit on the edge of your bed. Not before he makes sure to shut the blinds of the window to keep his actions hidden behind the scenes.

One of his hands held onto your panties, and other clutched the sheets under him; he brings your panties close to his nose, to get a good sniff of your scent, a scent which had driven him to his madness. His cock strains in his sweatpants, painfully confined in his briefs. He wants to pull it out, he wants to do the unthinkable, all for you. Jongho does exactly what his mind had been playing on replay for the past two minutes now. Fantasising about you, and your body, he reaches down and starts palming his cock through his pants, making it harder as he thinks about you. He then tugs at his sweatpants and briefs, his cock springing out to hit his lower abdomen. Glancing down, he knows how hard he had gotten by just your clothes, and it was pushing him to his edge. He probably isn't even embarrassed to admit the truth about what he was going to do.

Jongho wraps his other hand around the tip of his cock, his thumb rubbing circles on the tip before his fingers slide down along the shaft. Stroking himself, he gets himself harder than before, stiff enough to jerk himself off. He relaxes in your bed, arching his back. The palm of his hand engulfs himself entire, and keeping his pace steady, he starts rubbing it back and forth. Veins on his shaft bulge out in a few seconds, and he hisses at the cold and calloused sensation of his hand.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, his voice a mere whimper as he brings the tempo of his hand up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

He screws his eyes shut, tight enough to picture more of your naked body, to imagine himself getting sucked off by your pretty little mouth; he's seen every inch of your bare body, every time you'd be in the shower or would soak in the bathtub. He's in love with your body, so much, so madly. Sweat starts dripping down his forehead, a few strands of his ebony hair sticking to his skin, while his lips tremble chanting your name. He has your panties pushed up against his nose, taking eventual sniffs of it to drive himself crazy.

With a few quick paced strokes, he switches his rhythm and drags them out, going around the tip to massage it a little; precum starts dribbling out from his slit, and his hand spreads it along his shaft. His cock, glistening with his precum, is still very stiff and eager for the release, yet Jongho keeps his pace slower than before. He takes a deep yet trembling breath in, convulsing his lungs to the sheer pleasure he was deriving out of this. His face was flushed, cheeks red, lips quivering, eyes shut closed and his skin shining with a fresh coat of sweat; he needed more, he needed you. Loosening his fingers around his cock, and pulling his hand away, he brings his other to wrap your panties around him. The soft and warm feeling of your panties pushes him into his carnality, inching him closer to his release.

Tightly wounding his fingers now, he picks up the pace and goes hard; his moans are beginning to fill up the room, his eyes are swelling with tears till a few cascade down his cheeks, staining his skin. He's close. So very close. And the way he was dragging your panties up and down on his cock, was starting to get to him. With few more concise and fast paced strokes, he starts bucking his hips into his hand, fucking himself better. He knows he'll come undone any second now, realising how badly his cock had been pulsating in his hand. Everything blurs to nothing when he twitches, his body shuddering as he lets go. Streaks of white cover his hand, bits of it running down your fingers and a lot of it drenching your panties.

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathes out, his whimper sounding melodious to the empty room as he peels his eyes open. Heaving a wispy laugh, he glances down at his hand, full of his cum and your panties ruined by it. "You'd look so pretty squirming under me, while I'm...oh, fuck."

His mouth falls open, jaw slack, as his vivid imagination was starting to make him hard again. There's still time for you to get home, he wouldn't mind going another round. This time however, he keeps your panties and picks out your bra, spending another hour of his time masturbating and fucking himself to your thoughts, to the very vile imagery of you in his mind.

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

          You were pacing back and forth, chewing on your nails as Jongho sits on the couch, shifting his eyes to your oscillating body.

"My lingerie is missing." You mumble, showing no signs of stopping in your movements. "The red set of my lacy underwear is gone, disappeared into thin air," you spell out with panic lacing your words, "what kind of pervert would do that? How is that even possible? I locked my door, there was no way anyone would have broken in to steal my underwear."

Jongho hums, relaxing back in the couch and feigning to be in deep thought. He doesn't utter a word. A criminal would keep his mouth shut under the fear of being unraveled. Jongho has your underwear, the red set of your bra and panties is lying in his wardrobe, sullen with his cum and reeking wildly of his scent. He's been jerking off to them every night since he got his hands on them, it's vile, it's disgusting but it's his way of loving you.

"This is maniacal, Jongho. I'm scared of living here now," you stop in your steps and stare at him. "I'm scared." The last of your words sound more like a whisper and that makes Jongho fake his concern even more.

He gets up from the couch and heads to the kitchen to bring you a glass of water, or what you think he was getting for you. You sigh and sit on the couch instead, placing your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands; you were frustrated, annoyed, frightened of your situation and how it was affecting you. Jongho walks out in mere minutes, bringing a glass of water to you. He hands you the glass and you take it without any doubt or having a reason to doubt him. Taking eventual sips, you feel yourself calming down bit by bit. In no time, the glass is empty and sits on the coffee table in front of you. Jongho watches you keenly, resisting the very urge to smirk. His straight face showed no emotions, no signs of impatience that he felt in his heart, but staring at you with his ravenous eyes, he only masqueraded his concern.

"Feeling better now?"

"I guess," you shake your head, returning back to having it slumped in your hands. "But this is outrageous, Jongho. Who could—just, I need some time to recover I think." You mumble, and your head was starting to get heavy.

Jongho notices your unease, and how dizzy you were staring to get. On the other hand, you were confused as to why you were suddenly starting to feel the discomfort; this issue wasn't that serious to begin with, yet you were starting to feel the aftermath of stressing out too much. It's really concerning to you how your lingerie got stolen, only one pair of it, however. You hadn't noticed it missing till after a few days from your important meeting, when you were searching for it to throw it in the washer.

You feel numb, your head throbbing with an unwanted ache till you're seeing stars in your eyes; breathing gets harder for you, your lungs burning and your throat suffocating you. This was sudden, but it was bewildering. Your vision turns blurry, your lips shaking and your heart pounding in your chest. Jongho stands in front of you, doing nothing, standing still on his spot till he's sure you're knocked out. And you are, in few more seconds, darkness shrouds your eyes, your mind switching off and your body falling limp to the side on the couch.

Was there something in the water?

You were never so comely with darkness, nor were you so fond of feeling lonely and scared. Not remembering how you ended up in this situation, feeling yourself lying in something soft, something constraining your movements and the kind of familiar scent tingling your nose. Squinting your eyes, your distorted mind starts waking up; the dull ache in your head isn't gone, but it isn't too intense to make you groan in pain. When you're fully conscious of your surroundings, you find yourself in a comfortable bed, way too comfortable; the mattress has sunken to your weight, the sheets on your body are and soft and warm. In the dimly lit room, you notice the details and find everything quite too familiar. A room, with a window and its drapes drawn over, with a dresser and a closet, with a layout so familiar.

When it finally creeps up to you, your body jerks off the bed. Sitting upright, you scrunch your brows together and find it astounding to be in Jongho's room. What had happened that led you here? Did you pass out and he brought you to his apartment? But then why would he bring you to his apartment? That doesn't make sense. He could've tended to you at your own apartment. This certainly doesn't feel right.

And it shouldn't either.

Not when you find one of your hands shackled in chains. A broad cuff is wrapped around your wrist, the metal cutting into your skin, and a long chain dangles from it to the headboard of the bed. What the fuck was this? You start panicking, your breath hitching and your mind going point blank; your anxiety starts getting the worst of you when realise you're still your old clothes. The same spaghetti sauced stain tank top and shorts you had worn when you called Jongho over regarding stolen lingerie.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fucking shit is this?" you grunt through your gritted teeth, wanting to cut off the cuff from your wrist.

You're still panicking, caught up in the daze of escape instead of keeping your senses perched on other things. Let's say for the surrounding. It's beyond your comprehension to understand when a certain man walks in, muffling his footsteps against the floor and shuffling around to stand by the edge of your bed.

"Oh, you're awake, now. Are you, moonpie?" he murmurs, "I was starting to get tired of waiting around for you."

You could discern the soft pout on his face under the haze of dimmed lights. He leans over, towering with his broad shoulders on your body, making you feel small and puny.

"How are we feeling?" his worry is bittersweet, an underlying intention evident to your mind. "Hopefully, better. You've been asleep for a day or two." He shrugs his shoulders as if the words mean nothing to him, "who's keeping a count? Your friends? Yunho...?" he heaves out a chuckle, shaking his head, "probably. No, it's right. They must be concerned. Actually, he must be really worried considering he was in on this."

There's a beat of silence, and you decide to fill it in, having been unbothered by his jeering phrases. "Jongho, what is this? What kind of sick joke is this?"

You tug your hand, the chains shackling and creating a buzz around, a sound he was so delighted to hear from you. He traces his thumb across his lower lip, his eyes glazing only for a second on your face before they rummage to gander at red marks on your wrists. The cuff had really eaten your skin off, in a way, it looks tormenting and painful—something he surely finds himself relishing.

"A joke?" he mocks, "Moonpie, why would you think any of this is a joke? I'm doing all of this for you."

He sits by edge of the bed, and you scamper to press yourself against the headboard, wanting to be away from him or his touch even. This was something out of a movie, a low-budget thriller movie where the protagonist gets trapped by a psychopath and is subjected to all kinds of torture by them. How ironic is that? You were stuck in that situation yourself, wondering what Jongho's mind was constructing in every passing second. Given your interest in watching all sorts of documentaries, you knew you had to play your cards right, choose rightful words to get your way in this.

"For me?" you gasp on a breath, "Jongho, this is fucking crazy. You're fucking crazy—"

"—am I? Am I fucking crazy to think I can protect you from the world?" he growls, somewhat keeping himself composed, "I've seen how the others look at you, with their lust-filled eyes and the untamed desire they have for you. I can't let them taint you too. You're far from being corrupted, never in my eyes."

And there it was, the flash of ambiguous darkness in his eyes, the way it acridly makes your spine tingle. Even if it had lasted for mere seconds, you knew where this was headed, you were starting to figure him out; vaguely, but gradually. You needed to be levelheaded and cautious.

"All those days and nights of watching you, reading you, getting to know you, they were some of the best times I've ever had. You didn't even know I was there, like a shadow lurking behind you. Everywhere you went, I was there. I couldn't get enough of you, never actually." He adds, "I don't want to hurt you, I would rather die than hurt you. I just want to keep you close to me, away from the hungry stares of your so-called friends. You'll be safe here."

You hadn't realised when his hand had traced up your leg and rested on your thigh, but maybe you were too immersed in his words and thoughts to notice anything at all. Too immersed in his words and thoughts, the raw sentiments of his demented mind, you were in fact drowning in the aftermath of believing him, of ever interacting with him.

"You'll always be safe here, moonpie." He rubs circles on your thigh, thumb pushing into your flesh, "I'll go get something for you to eat. You must be hungry. You are hungry, aren't you?"

Your lips were sewn shut, heart practically in your throat at the way his tone and voice had changed. The clear shift from being obsessive to concerned caught you off guard. Jongho offers you a sweet yet deadly smile, his lips curling like the Cheshire Cat before he walks out of the room and leaves you in utter chaos. Confusion, despair, disgust, and your nicking anxiety had already started to get the worst out of you.

To think Yunho was into this all along, shatters your heart even harder. Now that the room was completely filled with silence, you could hear the minute shuffling happening outside. Jongho is probably preparing the food for you, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were indeed hungry. Your stomach growls at the thought of food, mindlessly thinking about what he had or was bringing for you to eat.

After a few minutes of waiting, the door rattles to him entering inside; he's soft on his feet, but his presence is heavy and intimidating. When he stands by the edge of the bed, holding a tray in his hands, he offers you a small smile before placing it down in your lap. You notice the contents then, a meagre meal of carbs, protein and fibre: pieces of chicken steak, some sautéed vegetables and mashed potatoes. To accompany the food, there was a small can of soda.

This was a filling meal, he really had thought it through, from the food itself. How long had he been planning this? He must be enjoying the sweet taste of his victory, which menially isn't anything but the decadent fulfilment of his efforts and hard work.

Jongho sits down on the edge, giving you enough space; even so you were pressed up against the headboard, not wanting to be any closer to him. The tray in your lap is warm, and you could vaguely discern the mist rising up from the food. Had he cooked it? Or had he just ordered it from outside? Besides that, your worst fear was getting drugged again. Had he drugged the food?

"I'm not hungry," you state, softly.

"But you need to eat, moonpie."

"I don't need anything from you."

He grunts, "you're really impossible to deal with."

Steering himself away from you for a mere moment, he lets his head hang low and shakes it; an amused chuckle follows, reverberating till the time stands still and you're taken back by him.

"Jongho!" you call out, the chain rattling as you brace your hands against his chest.

He had leaped over to you, shoving you into the headboard till your back hurt. One of his hands held down your shoulders, by pushing it hard against your chest. While his other hand grabbed your jaw, forcing you to stay in place.

"You should listen to me," he grunts in your face, pressing his fingers and thumbs into your cheeks to get your mouth to open. "If I tell you to eat, then you eat it, damnit. Don't make me say it twice. Next time, I might not use my words."

He lets go of you, crawling away from your body and checking the tray of plate, whether it had made a mess on the bed or not. Lucky for you, his enraged actions weren't as haphazard as you'd expect them to be; if there had been a mess of food in the bed, who's to tell what he'd do to you. In odd times as these, it's certain to agree with every wish of his, oblige every word he speaks and never go against him. He is volatile, waiting to blow up in your face any moment if you even move wrong. So, you have to weigh and measure every consequence before talking to him and carrying yourself around him.

Using your free hand, you pull the tray properly on your lap and pick at the food with their bare fingers. No spoon, no fork, no knife. He knows how to play. And he knows it well. Standing up on his feet, leaning over the edge of the bed, he strokes your shabby hair away from your eyes and offers you a gentle smile. In his mind, he hadn't been violent towards you. Acting as if he hadn't just pushed you up against the back of his bed and threatened you with his malignant anger.

"Good girl, now was it so hard?" his fingers caress a side of your face, slipping down your cheek to your lips. "Don't make me use force against you, moonpie. I don't like it. I can't stand the thought of bending you to my ways. Just...be a good girl for me, okay?"

You nod, picking out a piece of chicken steak he had cut and putting it in your mouth. It was hard to chew, no matter how soft the meat was in your mouth. Swallowing it was going to be even harder.

"Finish it, hmm?" he insists, stepping back till he finds himself sitting on a lounge chair by the door. "I'll wait until you finish everything on your plate."

Already having a hard time to swallow, you somehow manage to nod at him. Little by little, piece by piece, with your greasy fingers you finish most of the things in the plate. You still had a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your plate, the vegetables and meat were almost done with too.

"I've got all day," he sighs, dreamily as if, he wasn't getting tired of watching you and it was starting to show. "I'm not going anywhere. You can take as much time as you need."

Only the thought of him staring at you all while you tried to finish the plate, gave you an icky sensation. Your back was covered with sweat, your clothes were soaked in sweat too. Disgust was the last thing you wanted, but it was rather a feeling sticking to your spine ever since you had gained your consciousness.

"Done." You mutter, a sense of victory taking over your mind but soon dissipating into glum and hopelessness; he had gotten up from the chair, taking short strides toward you.

He was inspecting the empty plate, closely enough to not miss out anything. How sickeningly frightening was that? Even worse, how much of a sicko was he? You could have never guessed of his freakish predicament in the beginning, could've never imagined there's a devil hiding behind the warm gummy smile of his. Your current situation was pointing to the otherwise. On the spectrum of luck, you were stuck in the bottom half where misfortunes awaited you.

"Ahh, good girl." He mutters under his breath, patting your head before taking the tray out of the room with him. "I'll be back soon. Don't make a sound."

You were left alone in the dimly lit room, a room harbouring no light of sort; the window was draped shut apparently with black curtains, and the only source of light for you was the lamp on the nightstand next to you. As one your hands had been cuffed to the wall, you couldn't reach out to the nightstand or the drawers below it. You were hopeful the drawers might have something of your use, something to get you out of the cuffs.

Rummaging your eyes further, you find the dresser shrouded by darkness in a corner. The setting of this room had been tampered with, you'd know and are sure of it since you were in here before. This was Jongho's room, the very room you had used to get ready for your meeting once. You remember the dresser being situated next to the bed and not in that corner; you also recall using the bathroom adjoining this room, meaning the door which you keep second-guessing about, leads to the bathroom.

Besides the grim darkness, and melancholic sentiments, you were starting to panic. Your mind kept flooding with constant fear of death, or even worse, being assaulted by an unhinged man—you've seen it all in the documentaries before. Maybe, watching them wasn't a total waste of time. Regardless, you kept going back to your friends, and Yunho. The man who seemed so harmless at the beginning, had now been placed under a different light for you. How could you be so naïve and gullible? How could you trust strangers so easily?

You knew this wasn't the right time to guilt trip yourself; these kind of mistakes happen and can't be avoided either way. The weight on your shoulders is already anchoring you down when you start getting drowsy too. No doubt the food was drugged. Was it really? Or were you just feeling sleepy after eating the carbs? The worst part of it was, it doesn't take you more than a minute to fall asleep, your body falling limp in the bed, against the mattress while the sheets pool around.

This has to be the worst. Most definitely.

You had no clue how long you were out for, but when you came to terms with your conscious, your body was aching immensely. It could've been because of your sleeping position, how strained your body was when you slept curled against headboard. Though, you were less bothered about your body and more concerned about your bladder; you wanted to use the bathroom, urgently.

Bracing yourself, you proceed to heed out his name. At the beginning, your voice does not even reach your own ears, and takes you countless tries before knowing you could yell out his name.

"Jongho...!" it sounded a little weak, however you could hear the door squeaking at the hinges when it's opened.

Jongho walks in, looking concerned and bewildered, his eyes were wide, and his lips trembled like a loose leaf on a branch. "What is wrong?"

"I need to—I need to use the bathroom," you mumble.

Letting out a sigh, he walks around the bed and pulls out the top drawer of the nightstand. He retrieves a pair of handcuffs, the ones usually used by cops; approaching you, he nudges his head for you to hold both your hands out. You oblige as told to only to find him cuff your hands together before unlocking the broad metal cuff around your wrist which was adhered to the chain on the wall.

"Come on," he tugs on the cuff, pulling you along with it to another door.

You knew the door led to the bathroom, so when he unlocked it with another set of keys, you weren't so surprised to find yourself in it.

He pushes you inside, and closes the door, standing on the other side before hailing out to you, "make it quick. And don't even think about doing anything funny."

You gulp, audibly so. Quick on your instinct, you start looking around, hoping to find something of your use. But to your unseeming surprise, the cabinets were empty, the drawers were locked, and the cabinet mirror was a reflection of your harsh reality. Your skin was starting to dry, peeling at places, especially on your hands; your lips were chapped and bleeding, there were bags under your eyes, your hair was greasy and smelled a little. Everything was so...disgusting to you. Even your own reflection. The mirror was a glimpse to your future, no matter how much you tried to, you weren't getting out of here. Never out of his sight, his mind or his prison.

Now, you had completely given up, having no strength in you to continue fighting or think of ways to escape him. You finish relieving yourself and wash your hands, splashing some of the water on your face too. Hearing a knock bang on the door, you flinch and tremble in fear.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah," you whisper, pulling yourself together and hastily walking out.

Jongho stands right in front of you, arms folded on his chest and his eyes narrowed onto you. "I'm not going to cuff you again, you're free to move around this room."

He must've weighed all the consequences of keeping you tied in the room. As much as that is very thoughtful of him, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped here all day and night. At this point, what was day and what was night? You couldn't make out the time, the windows were bind with dark curtains, there were no clocks in the room for you to even know the time or date. All you could rely on is your own sense of calculating and counting the days. Or maybe, you could just ask Jongho.

The man helps you get to the bed before dragging himself to the door; standing by it, he offers you a small smile before mumbling, "rest well, okay? I'll be back tomorrow with breakfast for you."

So, it was night after all.

You absentmindedly reflect to his smile with your own, getting in the bed and snuggling in the warm sheets. The door closes behind him as he leaves you in the dark, and once you're sure he's out your earshot, you cry. You hug your knees and cry, till your cheeks are stained with sheer agony of your tears.

This was hell.

And you really needed to get out of here.

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

          You were starting to keep a track of his behaviour; not knowing how many days it had been since you were held captive by him, you still wanted to figure out how long you had been here. It would make sense for you to count the days from your last encounter with him, though for that, you would have to know how long you were knocked out for when he drugged you. Even so, counting from the time you had finally regained consciousness, it seems like it had been more than two weeks since you were here.

More than two weeks. Right. And yet, none of your friends had tried searching for you. Or maybe they had, they were on their way to seek you out. Although, Jongho was always one step ahead of everyone, he must've distracted them. The thought of your best friend and her boyfriend did come to your mind, but as usual, Jongho's advances would make you push them to a dark corner and never let those thoughts resurface.

Keeping a track of the days was easy, you only had to count the number of meals he was providing you. Jongho gave you three meals a day, the breakfast would be simple enough, consisting of an omelette and sometimes rice, the lunch and dinner were both proportionate of carbs, fibre and protein. You were glad he was offering you good food. But that was least of your concerns and nothing to be glad about.

Jongho allowed you to take a shower six meals before; thankful to that, you felt a bit fresh and dressed yourself in neat clothes. Again, the clothes had been bought by him, just as he did with every other thing. The clothes you wore were simple too, a cotton dress reaching to your calves and your brand-new underwear inside.

You were nicely dressed and showered today too, sitting by the edge of the bed and waiting for Jongho to come in with your lunch. Over the time, as irrational as it would sound to any sane person, you were starting to feel something for him. Affection? Maybe. Your soft spot for him was brainwashing you, not that he had already done with a few simple tricks, but you were starting to warm up to him.

Jongho made sure to make you realise how bad the outside world is, and how safe you are here with him. He never touched you without your consent, never made you feel threatened again; because you were starting to obey his words, his wishes, you were becoming his trained pet in a way. In the span of two weeks, you couldn't even recognise the change that had taken over you. If you could compare your old self to this one, you'd be stunned beyond measure.

But it wasn't that bad.

You listen to him. He doesn't threaten you and you don't get punished. Suffocation takes over you every time you try to reminisce of the day you had missed to obey him and had met with a ruthless punishment. As much as it is detrimental for you to remember it, you know the trauma won't leave you. Ever. You faced the punishment because you did not finish your food one time. He dragged you to the bathroom by your hair, filled up the bathtub with water till its brim, and drowned you in it. You could feel the water penetrate your lungs, shorten your breath, give you a dizzy headache. After the torture was over, he cradled you in his arms like a child on the bathroom floor, feeling guilty and ashamed of what he had done to you.

He never punished you after that. Ever. Even raising his voice at you made him feel guilty and embarrassed, so he spoke to you in humbling tones. Days were different after that incident, you thought he'd be more erratic than usual, but to your surprise he wasn't. Jongho has a good game, a very strong one to alter your perception on him. You couldn't pinpoint when it was, but you were surely feeling some type of way for him.

"I'm here, I'm here," he sings, pushing the door open while bringing in a tray of food. "I agree, I'm late. But I had a couple of things to take care of. Are you hungry?"

You nod, licking your lower lip. "I am. I thought you weren't going to come today."

"Babe, I'll always be here for you," he chimes, setting the tray on the bed first. Pulling the lounge chair closer to the bed, he sits on it and fishes out a key to unlock your cuffs. "You've been a really good girl for me, I'm thinking we won't be needing these anymore."

You took a breath of relief. The thought itself was freeing, no confinements on your wrists, no struggles, no pain, no marks on your skin. He lets the cuffs fall down on the floor, clinking softly against it while he tugs at your hands and pulls you in his lap. However, the glare on his glasses makes it hard to read his eyes, you never know when he might change his mind, and considering that, you wanted to be prepared to take on anything he flung at you.

"Jongho..."

"Shush..." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting and nicking your flesh till bruises start staining your skin. "I've been waiting for a long time to gain your trust. Craving your touch..." he intertwines your hands together, "I won't do anything unless you're ready. I want you to feel safe around me."

"I do," you mumble, leaning back into his touch, "I've started to feel safer around you than before."

"Is that true?"

"Do you want me to prove it?"

"How would you prove it, babe?" he asks, licking up a stripe on your neck, his tongue warm and slick with his spit.

You slip out of his lap, falling on your knees in front of him to slot your body perfectly in between his legs. He spreads them wider, letting you accommodate the space before running a hand through your hair. A sly smile stretches his lips, making you gag a bit, regardless, you let him do what he wanted to. His hand cups a wide of your face, before sliding down to grab your chin and pull you up only a bit for your lips to meet.

The kiss was hungry, wild, desperate, his lips were sucking on yours with an unquenchable thirst, while you pushed yourself into him to deepen the kiss. Your hands were on either of his thighs, but out of nowhere, you find the warmth of his own grab yours and force them behind your back. He holds your wrists in one of his hands, using the other to swiftly pick up the fallen handcuffs. You could hear the muffled sound of metal clinking, alerting you. Unfortunately, you weren't as quick to pull yourself out of his trap, or his arms; he places the cuffs on your wrist and tightens them.

His teeth sink into your lower lip, biting hard till it bleeds into his mouth. A satisfied moan rumbles in his chest, and he pushes himself away only a bit to flash you a conceited curl of his blood-stained lips.

"I like it this way," he murmurs, running the tips of fingers on your arms behind tugging on the link between your cuffed hands. "Don't worry too much...I won't hurt you. It's neither that I don't trust you. But I better be safe than sorry."

You stifle the urge to make a retching sound, wanting to flee the moment he's too immersed in whatever you had to offer. In other perspective, you nod your head and peer at him, putting on a helpless ruse and pouting so that he would continue the broken kiss. He did not needed to be told twice, however. His lips are back on yours, biting, sucking, lapping, both of your teeth clattering against each other until he cups your face and forces you to open your mouth. Instantly, his tongue slithers in your warmth, sending chills down your spine. You knew he was eager and desperate, very much so to hear you moan under him.

The vagrant and insatiable hunger in him was clearly evident in the way he was devouring your mouth. Stroking the back of your neck with one of his hands, he tilts your head behind to give him better control over you and his tongue thrusting down your throat. His other hand stays warm on your cheek, slowly and gradually falling to your shoulder while his fingers dig in your skin through the flimsy material of the dress.

He takes a deep breath, pushing himself away from you to realise what he was doing and what he wanted to do next. This time, you did not need to know it twice; the way his eyes lingered on yours for a minute longer before trailing down to his crotch, that told you many tales of what he wanted you to do. Swallowing thickly, you suck on your lower lip to resist the dwelling dread in the pit of your stomach. On a much contrary note, you were starting to get aroused and wet, your panties already drenched with your arousal. What did it take for you to be on your knees for him? His lustful eyes? His ravenous desire to make you his? Or, in fact, were you growing reminiscent of the time you had spent with him prior to this catastrophe that struck you?

"Open wide for me, okay?" he smugly whispers, keeping one hand on the back of your neck while using the other to unzip his pants.

You're helplessly stuck in between his legs, counting your breaths till you'd be suffocating on his cock; it wasn't a pretty picture in your head, but just the thought itself made you even more wet. This would have to be some sick sort of fantasy for you. Why else would you be thinking of erratic things towards your captor? In the dark side of your mind, the way Jongho had behaved with you in the past days, made you feel all sorts of things. Maybe it was the lack of human interaction, or the fact that you were away from your friends for so long, that your mind had fallen in love with the idea of what Jongho was.

Jongho tugs at the waistband of his pants, pulling them down with a few more tugs till they're pooling around his folded knees. You catch the glimpse of briefs tenting against his erection; again, something going hand in hand with disgust and lechery.

He brings his hand to your jaw from the back of your neck, and thumbs your lower lip, forcing you to open your mouth. You yelp, letting the pain of his fingernail digging in your fleshly lip, while watching him pull his briefs down. His cock springs out, eagerly. Jongho muffles a grunt while trying to push his briefs down and once he was done, he nudges your head close to his crotch.

"Be a good girl for me, like you have been for the past days."

His voice seems drunk of lust and craving, seeming raspy and heavy. You lick your lips, pushing yourself further this time to let the tip of his cock brush your lips; you don't open your mouth to take him in the instant, rather you stay, keeping your lips shut to let him rub his cock all over your mouth. The feeling was distasteful in some way, until the warmth of your mouth engulfs the littlest bit of his cock. Only the tip of his cock pulsated in your mouth, and you licked at the slit to elicit a soundful moan from him.

His touch burns on the back on your neck, holding it tight to keep your head in place while he bucked his hips into your face. Continuing with it, inch by inch his cock plunges in your mouth, till the tip hits your throat.

You gag, almost immediately. "Nnnghh..."

"Fuck." he mumbles, throwing his head back while his mouth falls opens. He even takes a moment to throw off his glasses on the floor, not bothered in the slightest to know if they landed smoothly or not. "Your mouth feels so good—so good around me, moonpie. So soft, so warm...fuck."

Leaving you to gag on his cock, he picks up the pace of his thrusts; every time he pulled out, it gave you a fraction of second to breathe, though when he pushed back with all his strength, you felt like you could suffocate. Your lungs burned, aching for air, your hands were strained behind your back, and your mind was foggy to realise any of it. What your conscious could filter was pure pleasure and desperate need for attention.

Jongho's cock was buried deep in you, stretching out the walls of your throat; you raise your tongue to the roof of your mouth, licking along the underside of his shaft as he continued to thrust in and out your mouth. The seething urge to bite down on his cock was immense in your mind, and even if you did, you knew it would not grace you with prettiest of consequences. So, you let that thought drift and oblige, doing what you had only learnt from watching porn.

"Want to breathe?" he asks as if he was going to do you a favour by pulling out.

Regardless, when you nod, he does pull himself out of your mouth and gives you a minute to breathe. You cough, feeling your throat itch while drool coats your chin and mouth; saliva strings dangle from your lips to the tip of his cock, which apparently had gotten redder and appeared to gleam with precum.

"Jongho..." you mumble.

"What? Is it too much for you?"

You shake your head, "I need you too."

"You need me, huh? Then show me what your mouth can do." He grumbles, nudging the tip of his cock against your lips.

You are back to wrapping your lips around him, lowering yourself down his veiny shaft and choking as it hits the back of your throat again. This was probably the most you had gotten inside your mouth. Now, tasting the saltiness from his precum, you roll your tongue on the underside of his cock. Licking and lapping while he rammed himself in and out of your mouth.

"Ah, fuck," he growls, the sound resonating from his chest as he throws his head back and his brows draw themselves in together. "Who knew this mouth was—oh, fucking hell—who knew this mouth was capable of driving someone wild."

You moan while his cock his confined in your throat, constrained to feel the mere vibrations of your whimpers and groans. Tears start pricking at the corners of your eyes when his pace picks up again; he bucks his lips, thrusting steadily to retain his rhythm. Too lost in the pleasure, both of his hands entangle in your hair and push you against his pelvis, your nose crushing on his pelvic bone and the bits of his pubic hair tickling your skin. It was rough, but pleasurable in a way.

While Jongho fucked into your mouth, your knees were tired from scrapping against the carpeted floor, your arms were numb from fettered behind your back. His cock slides deeper in your throat, slotting perfectly with the concise thrusts. Your lips were starting to sting from the stretch, as compared to the beginning. But minutes were starting to turn into hours, and you were still getting throat-fucked by him.

As his moans grew louder and the air in the room got heavier, you came to terms with the reality; Jongho peered down at you, a thin sheet of coat on his skin shimmering in the dim lights, while his brows remain stitched on his forehead. His lips trembled to speak something, but before he could even get his words out, you felt his cock twitch. He was close to his edge, and the thought of him cumming down your throat was least likely in your head.

Regardless, you couldn't do anything about it since his hands had already restrained you from moving your head back. Jongho's thrusts became placid and loose, surrendering to the pressure of his orgasm. Though, he doesn't give into the temptation and rather pushes you off; he pants heavily, letting his chest heave up and down. You were breathless too, but the way your throat had been abused, you start coughing from your lungs. Your chest burns, your throat has gone sore, and you couldn't feel your arms at all. Spit, drool, whatever fluids your mouth had, they were all staining your chin and lips. The opulent strings of saliva were connecting your lips and his cock, correction, his veiny and thick cock, which had fucked the hell out your throat.

For a man like him, his cock is sure girthy and thick, lacking in length however that couldn't be any of your concerns since he had a great technique.

How pathetic you were. This man has you captive, he's bending you to his ways and benefit, and you're gushing about him. Jongho seemed so harmless in the beginning, especially when you had no idea of his existence. Now, looking back to those days, it all plays out to a fever dream. Unlikely. Unfortunate. And, vague. Knowing him had bitten you in the ass, making you realise how careful you needed to be around people.

"I had imagined things—I had fantasised of the ways I'd use this mouth," he breaks your trance, hooking his thumb in your open mouth before pulling you up by it.

One of his hands comes quick to wrap around your waist as he picks you up; he guides you on his lap, your dress fluttering till he despairingly pulls it up to your waist. Your drenched panties exposed to his eyes, while you're adjusting yourself on his lap, making sure his cock hits your lower stomach.

"I hope it didn't disappoint you," you smile, hazy and clearly intoxicated with pleasure. "My mouth...my mouth can do wonders."

"Don't doubt that," he grins, placing both his hands on your waist, "but now I need to know what this little body can do..."

When his words are dragged into a mere whisper, he slides his hands to the back of your dress and tears it down. The sound of them tattering against his force, fill up the room, not that the melodies of your pants and grunts had already created a ballad; the damaged pieces of your dress start to slip off your body, revealing nothing but your lingerie. Jongho basically ogles at the sight, wasting no time in ridding you of your bra and filling his hands with your supple flesh.

"I used to see this body every day, aching to touch," he whispers, blowing air on your hardened nipples before swallowing one of your tits whole in his mouth.

"To shuck," he muffles his words, teeth sinking in your skin as he keeps kneading your other tit. "To phinch..."

His words were still discernible. Pulling back, after leaving his teeth marks around your tit, he smears some of his spit on the tip of his fingers and pinches your nipples. The coolness of spit was tantalising the rising warmth of your body; you were grinding on his bare thigh, letting his cock rub against your lower abdomen. He was rock hard and that was driving you insane. His hands slip from your chest to your back, resting in the curve before sliding further down to cup your butt.

"Jongho, please..." you whimper, bucking your hips into his in a desperate need of release.

"Yes, darling," he chuckles softly, rubbing his thumbs on either of your buttcheeks before giving them a gentle squeeze. "You're going to get it. Have patience."

Squeezing your ass tighter, he lays his palms flat on your skin and offers it a good hard smack.

You wince at the sting searing on your skin, "fuck—that hurts."

He didn't care.

Not giving it much thought, he proceeds to slide your panties to a side, keeping the other hand still on your ass.

"Christ, moonpie. You're dripping. You've even ruined your panties." He lets his middle finger trace your wet slit, rubbing it slightly to get you off.

Unconsciously, you start grinding on his finger, wanting to feel more of the friction and the demeaning pleasure you were seeking from it.

"Jongho, just fuck me already." You desperately drag out the movement of your hips, his finger sliding in and out of your slit before it protrudes into your cunt. "Hmm, fuck."

"I don't think my finger would be enough for you."

He shakes his head, snapping the straps of your panties with one meagre tug and letting the torn pieces fall off your thighs. It gets you moaning again, first you were high on the lust after sucking him off, and now, his raw intentions of tearing everything off your body. Without hesitating, or heeding you of any warning, he aligns his cock with your cunt; you take the hint a second later, pushing yourself forward for the purpose of ease.

He had no problem slipping into your tight cunt, after all, your arousal was flowing out like water; you were sure, as his cock inched in you, your juices were dripping down your inner thighs, leaving a shimmery trail behind. You were not prepared to endure the stretch from his cock, definitely not, regardless of your arousal coating every layer of your warm flesh. However, Jongho bottoms out the moment you sink lower onto his lap.

"Fuck, this cunt is a little tight for me," he groans, smirking at you.

"Shut up," you say out of breath, already struggling to adjust to his size.

He wasn't big, but he was girthy, stretching you out quite well. Taking a deep breath, you notice the mellow ache dissipating into sheer pleasure, and you start moving. Jongho bites back on a moan, watching you through his half-lidded eyes. He puts his hands on either side of your waist, giving you a leverage to increase your pace. You start off with rolling your cunt onto his crotch, letting cock stretch you out even more before riding him.

Jongho grabs your jaw, tight enough for his fingers to sink in your cheeks before pulling you towards him and capturing your lips in bloodthirsty kiss. The fervent heat shows in the way his tongue pokes inside, in despair of tasting your mouth; he heaves out a satisfied moan into your mouth when he catches up on the traces of his cock on your tongue. In a way, it riled you up, making you go harder.

The kiss breaks apart with Jongho pulling himself away, a smirk curling his lips in devilry, while his eyes are fixed on yours.

"You better watch your mouth," he warns you for what you had said before, "I have different ways to ruin it. Considering—ah fuck."

Not bothered to listen to him, you were chasing your orgasm, switching from rolling to bucking your hips up and down on cock. You lifted yourself and then sank back, every time, it gave you a feeling of emptiness before you were full again; the tip of his cock would ram deep into you, but not as deep as it would go if he tried to thrust himself into you.

"Playing a risky game, are we?" he mumbles, still holding your jaw and forcing you to open your mouth. Gurgling a good amount of spit in his mouth, he aims it at yours and the cold wad of his spit trickles down your throat. "I know how to tame a brat like you."

He lets go of your jaw and places his hand on the small of your back, supporting your body as it rocked up and down on his cock. You increase your pace, straining your hips almost as the light in his eyes is swallowed by darkness. It wasn't the first time you had come across noticing such ungodly indication in his eyes. He'd frequently show you his true colours, his true intentions, his raw emotions and the wicked schemes.

"Yeah? Then you better fuck me—better fuck me like you mean it." You whimper, your body shuddering.

Nifty tremors spread under your skin when he bucks his hips up, thrusting his cock into you. He plunges himself deep inside, a visible bulge now forming on your mound and on your lower abdomen. You did not expect yourself to prompt him so badly and quickly, though whatever it was that had gotten him on edge, you weren't complaining.

"I better have you making a mess on my cock, now."

With that, he increases the pace of his thrust, ramming his cock as deep as he could and eliciting the perfect melodious moans out of you. At this point, it was safe to say that you were no longer sane; you were never sane to begin with, no sane woman would let her kidnapper fuck her into the oblivion. You were letting Jongho do exactly that, letting his cock wreck you with almost no dignity as you ride him. Or so you thought you were. Jongho ceases his movements, keeping his eyes on you to know your rhythm and need.

And as he waited, scrutinising and perusing your tearful eyes, one of his hands comes clashing down on your cunt, slapping perfectly over your mound and slit; he waits a beat to notice your reaction, content with the way your jaw was open slack, and your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. Who thought it would make you mewl? Having his cock stuffed in you was one thing, but having him slap your bulged out cunt, was another. Both were pleasurable, but the latter was sending you to paradise of pure bliss.

Smirking to himself, he prepares to slap your pussy one more time. The sound of your skin and his fingers meeting was ravishing, echoing in the room along with your loud whimpers, which would soon turn to cries. Jongho absolutely loved watching you cry, he loved the way your tears stained your cheeks and how red they'd get after; he continues to proffer slaps to your cunt, all while bucking his hips into you. He had found his rhythm in doing that, alternating between thrusting his cock and smacking your cunt.

"Jongho, fuck—that—that fucking hurts," you cry, closing your eyes to let your tears cascade down your cheeks.

This was too much for you to bear, the immense pleasure piling on your body while bit back on the urge to release. Your body lurches into his chest and you rest of your head on his shoulder, realising he was still clothed on his upper half; not bothered by it, you too, resume rolling your hips into his, earning a mellifluous moan from him.

"If you keep doing that, I'll cum," he grows in your ear, pressing his lips against your temple as you laid your head on his chest.

His arms were around your waist, giving him a better grip to thrust into you; within seconds, his pace becomes animalistic, not faltering one bit. A familiar knot ties itself in the pit of your stomach, hot and tight, just waiting to come undone by force. You let out a small scream before pushing yourself back from his chest and looking at him, pleading him to end this suffering. He knew what he was doing, or had been doing, he was prolonging your orgasm, making your lower belly ache with desperation.

But now it doesn't seem that way. Keeping his pace steady, still wild and raw, he plunges deep into you to undo the tension in your stomach. You heave out a series of breathless moans, before giving into the temptation of release, finding your juice splash around his cock and dribble down your inner thighs. A bit of your orgasm drenches his briefs, while a few drops squirt on his chest, soaking the shirt. You were so done for, already aching to compose your breathing.

The hard part's over. But, feeling Jongho's cock pulsate intensely with every single thrust, your body starts coiling again. Familiar kind of heat rises in your gut, crawling up your spine and before you could even realise, you were preparing yourself to cum again. Back-to-back? It was something difficult for a guy to attain, yet here you were. You were sure the both of you would be releasing at the same time. Confined in your velvet walls, his cock numbs your rationality, heavily striking at one specific spot till you're crumbling in his arms. You heave a deep breath in, chest convulsing erratically when the wave of your second orgasm overcomes the aftershock of the first one. You've done it again, made a mess on his cock while he still stayed buried inside you. The feeling of being filled up to the brim, while your juices trickled down his cock and his skin, was causing your body to spasm.

Reeling out of the pain and pleasure, you find Jongho smirking at you, letting out voiceless grunts and snickers to belittle your conscious; cumming for the second time, without him trying to overstimulate you, was certainly a victory on his side. Jongho's cock twitches one last time with long and hard thrusts, and in a second's time, he's releasing himself into you. The warmth of his seed coats your walls, squirting a little deeper in your lower gut, while he slowly starts to pull out. Gradually, he slides out completely and holds you close to his body.

You were out of energy to initiate anything, already lethargic and sore. Exhaustion gets the best of you, and the only thing you remember before passing out, how dirty and slick you felt, how his cum was all over your cunt and your inner thighs, how pathetic you were to let this happen. Of course, the post orgasm clarity was making you feel guilty and rather than confronting it, you let it demean you while he stroked your back, fingers caressing your skin ever so lightly to help you relax. For a meagre second, your body eases into his, your head falling onto his chest as you collapse on him; his half-erect cock rests on your stomach, slowly going limp with the passing time.

"You were such a good girl today," he coos, a sole finger tugging at the links between the cuffs on your wrist. "Maybe it's time we got rid of these altogether."

"After all, you won't be wanting to escape now."

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

The very selective memories of him were echoing in your head; the first time you had bared yourself in front of him, let him have his way with you, the time he concluded you would never want to get out of here, away from him. And as much as you'd hate to admit he was right; you were starting to regard your old plan of escaping his clutches. To be honest with yourself, you had been gone beyond the point of return. Because every time he came to your room, you were hopeful you'd fuck, and your hopes were turned to reality when he'd fuck you to the ultimate paradise whenever he came to drop you a meal.

Basically, you had gotten used to him. As much as the pavlov's theory, every time he entered you room with a tray of good food, you'd be on your knees to satisfy him. And that did not disappoint him. At all. The two of you had gone beyond, diving headfirst into this dynamic where either of you relied on each other's body to sate your mental dwelling. You were never the one to complain, neither did he, not when he was getting to use in every way, he had desired from the time he had first laid his eyes on you.

Though, it was a forlorn mistake to give yourself into him. There were wicked consequences of those actions, leading to what seemed like addiction from both of your sides. You don't know how long you had been with him, months maybe? But after that one day, the very first time you had let him touch you in all the sinister ways he had planers to, you were madly into him, made to believe he was the only one capable of keeping you safe from the outside world. Pathetic.

To be sullied by a man like him, was to be ashamed and to be burned to ashes; you were embarrassed to admit it, your captor had stolen your heart and locked it in his cage, and the key to it was his six-inch girthy dick you'd drool over every time he was with you. Yeah, to conclude, you were his cum-slut, taking in every inch of his cock whenever he got in the mood to fuck you. Seemingly, you felt dead inside when he'd not show up to your room, feeling guilty and disgusted in yourself, because why else won't he come to you? He needs you just as much you needed him.

The concepts of days and time were all mangled for you; having no idea how many days or months you had spent with Jongho, you sit quietly in your designated room. You were waiting for him of course, because your biological clock had also been hampered with. Your heart would know when he'd come and when he'd go, when he'd want to fuck you, when he'd take efforts to clean you and give you aftercare. This surely was fucked.

You hear muffled sounds from outside, some clattering of dishes, some clinking of cutlery and another man. It was strange, at first you believed you were hearing things, that you had finally gone mad trapped in the dark room. But, when the voice booms for the second time, you were sure there was someone else in this house apart from you and Jongho. And it was a man. A man you had familiarised yourself at your workplace for months.

"Where the fuck is she, Jongho?" Yunho's voice sends chills down your spine, as it's too powerful to be heard from the other side of the apartment. "I know you've kept her here."

"She's not here," Jongho speaks up, and his muffled voice is followed by the sound of plates crashing.

"Listen here, you little shit. I never knew of your fucking intentions before; if I had, I would have never talked to her about you." Yunho's growl is loud, shattering your eardrums, for some reason, you could picture him clutching on Jongho's collar, forcing himself into his face as he continues, "I practically served her on a silver platter for you. So, if you still think your life is precious, tell me where she is."

"Yunho, you've got it all wrong. I don't have her." Jongho's persistent with his lies. "Look, I'm stressed too. She's been missing for three months already, everyone's worried about her well being. It's not just you..."

"Don't bullshit me!" Yunho screams, his voice coarse and deep. "I know she's here..."

After that you couldn't hear any of their voices or their yells, it was only sheer silence. What must've happened? Curiosity gets the worst of you and slide off the bed to press your ear against the door, wanting to listen a little closely.

Nothing.

There was pin drop silence on the other side.

And you feared, amongst the dwelling serenity, the door rattles quite harshly, causing your body to flinch and you take step back. Every nerve of your mind was consumed with fright, and sheer terror; you panicked, anxiously waiting for the door to be knocked open by someone of the two. Partly, you were scared to find Jongho on the other side. But, if it was Yunho, as you thought he was the one confronting Jongho, then you'd be relieved.

But...

Would you really?

If your memory serves you right, he was an accomplice in Jongho's crimes, helping his way to you. So, would you really trust him? Would you be relieved to find once he barges in through that door? Would you be willing to leap into his arms and hug him? The time would only tell because the hinges of the door had fallen on the floor. The person's brute strength had treated the door like a cardboard sheet, and it easily falls over, thudding against the floor.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, breathing ragged and your lips quivering; you take a few steps back, stumbling to the bed as a silhouette walks in.

"Oh, god. It's really you." You were sure that was Yunho's voice. "Fucking hell, we need to get out of here. Okay...here, take my hand."

Through the corners of your tearful eyes, you find him extending his hand over to you. Hesitations knocks your heart, but the remaining clarity of tour consciousness coaxes you to take his hand. It was Yunho after all; the very tall, handsome man from your work you could rely on for everything. To hell with your doubts about him, if he's here to help you, then maybe you should trust him. And trust him is what you do. He's dragging you out of the room, guiding you down the hallway to the living room.

Yunho's broad back covered you from witnessing a still scene in the living room. When he halts all so suddenly in his steps, you prevent yourself from colliding into his back and lean over to gaze at him in confusion. And your confusion grows to sheer horror when you find Jongho lying on the ground, blood pooling under his body which seemed to only grow with every passing second.

"What the fuck..." you mutter under your breath, your heart shattering bit by bit as you take in the view of your so-called lover lying lifeless on the floor. "What did you—what did you do, Yunho?"

The said man turns to glance at you, shaking his head as his voice turns grim and serious. "I'm trying to save you. This is nothing—the depths I would go through to keep you safe..."

"You—you...moonpie, don't leave me," Jongho's words are caught in his throat, moreover, he's disgruntled from all the pain.

Yunho's already tugging on your hand, having it intertwined with yours as tightly as he could to make sure you won't fall back into Jongho's trickery. He was right, knowing you would pity the man who had captured you and held you captive for months, you would pity the criminal because he was nothing short of kind to you.

In actuality, Jongho had done nothing wrong to you, right?

You shake your head, wanting to stay behind to help him, but to your despondent heart's desire, you couldn't get yourself to snatch your hand from Yunho's grip. Jongho's clothes were drenched in blood, his shirt soaking the crimson shade as much as it could; he was stabbed in his chest by a long shard of ceramic, probably from the mess of broken plates on the ground. Yunho keeps dragging you to the main door, but your attention was all on Jongho, how listlessly his eyes fluttered, and the slight tremble of his lips was heart wrenching...till it turns to a sullen smile, only widening thereafter.

Why was he smiling?

You were growing concerned.

It was then when you were forced to turn around, when you saw his eyes close forever, the contrasting crimson against the marble floor growing by twofold; he was long gone, and that sure as hell put you in a state of panic. Yunho's fingers dug into your skin, showing no signs of easing out, not until he had you in the passenger's seat of his car and him behind the wheel. It was nighttime. The moon was high struck in the sky, and the stars were nowhere to be seen; this was your first time witnessing the moon in so long, that everything felt foreign to you. The fresh air, the sounds of the crickets chirping, the empty street, the spot where Yunho's car was parked, all of it was so out of the ordinary that you were suffocating. The reality was tough to digest, but you still couldn't fathom that you were out of that sunless room, out of the turbid silence and hearing things you thought you weren't capable of.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Yunho starts inspecting your body with a haste, tugging at the collar of the dress you were wearing and studying your skin.

"I'm fine," you mumble back, comprehending the sound of his voice and his touch.

"What the fuck..." he grumbles, finding your skin littered with bruises and cuts, all the hickeys from your time together with Jongho.

The cuts weren't exactly deep, and Jongho would only leave them behind for the purpose to intensify the pleasure between you two. They were almost healed, with murky scabs forming already. You wanted to push Yunho's hands away from you, wanting him to stop perusing your body as you were ashamed to show it to him.

"What were you thinking?" he shakes his head, pulling himself back to loosen his coat from his shoulder. He wraps it around you, and you start to shiver; not because you were cold or anything, because it was your first time feeling genuine affection instead of the feigned one. "This is atrocious."

"How did you find me?"

"The better questions here should be, are you okay? Did he do anything to you? What...what the hell happened?" he sighs, "we were all so worried about you." Taking a deep breath, he turns right ahead, and you do too, "the cops were useless to us after two days, you know. Because Jongho had made sure your case appears to them as a runaway and not abduction."

You quietly listen to him, facing the front and watching the night pass you by. Everything was still new to you, after months of spending your time confined in a room, of course it was natural to feel strangled in the open air.

Yunho grips the steering wheel, tight enough for his knuckles to turn while. "Your apartment was unscathed, so it was clear no one tried to abduct you. They ruled out every suspicion on Jongho because of the evidence. A lot happened after you went missing—when the cops gave up, we tried to find clues in your apartment."

Silence covers the two of you, like a warm hug from a blanket, before he decides to break it. "Na-Ra and her boyfriend never gave up; they tried calling your hometown and asking your whereabouts. I was busy going through your apartment and Jongho...he always found a way to divert our investigation."

"Until one day he got too squirrelly when we asked him about you. It was only logical to, he was your neighbour and your landlord...it made sense," his voice breaks, "he never let us in his apartment either. My suspicions only grew from that moment."

"He said..." you speak up, glancing at him to find him resting his head on the steering wheel; but hearing your voice he turns his head to face you. "He said...he had been planning this for a while. Kept an eye on me. Watched my every move."

"He surely did," Yunho lets out a satirical chuckle, "bastard had cameras installed everywhere in your apartment. Even your old one. It creeped out Na-Ra."

"You don't say," you whisper, looking away.

"He has a spare room in his apartment; filled with screens, you know, all those cameras keeping an eye on you," Yunho mutters, "I should've known it before, he was obsessed with you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so eager to help you out."

"Were you in on this?" you question, catching him off guard.

"Why would I be in on this?" he gasps, "I wasn't. He told you I was, didn't he?"

You nod, pursing your lips together. "I don't know what to believe anymore. I can't even tell if I should trust you or not."

"You should," he mumbles, "as a friend I was worried sick about you."

"I don't doubt that."

"Really, trust me. I'm not going to hurt you." He repeats himself.

"I know you won't but..."

"But?"

"What about Jongho? Is he really—"

"Dead? Yeah." He sighs, as if he had been holding it for long. "I aimed for his heart; pretty sure I got it."

"So, you killed him?"

"I already told you; I would go to any extent to keep you safe." He murmurs.

"So, what do we do now?" you ask because you were starting to panic.

You look at him, and he had been staring at you for a long time. He shakes his head, letting a smile cross his face, "we do nothing. We have no choice. Someone will find his body; the rot makes it easier to."

"And about you, you will have to restart your life pretending nothing happened."

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 20

You thought it would be just another dinner with Santiago, but it doesn't end like you expected it to.

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst. Hurtful words are thrown around. Themes of abandonment. Swearing. Mentions of unsupportive family members. I actually proofread this! But there’s probably still mistakes that I missed 😂. Word count: 3,304 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 19 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 21

It was supposed to be a usual dinner with Santiago.

But you knew something was off the moment he opened the door to his apartment, inviting you in. He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. He wasn’t talking much, and when he did respond to you, you were met with one-word answers, or just a grunt. You tried not to let it get to you, but you felt like you were imposing on his time, despite the fact that he had asked you to dinner.

It was weird. But he had been acting weird for weeks. Maybe it was because you were so close to giving birth. You only had two weeks left, after all, your lives were about to change forever. He even said so himself, he wasn’t ever expecting to have a family of his own. He was happy to just be by himself, so…maybe he was just nervous. There was no need to worry about it, he’d been there the whole time for you.

But it was obvious something was bothering him (and not just tonight, it had been going on for a while), and he felt like he couldn’t tell you, which hurt. You thought you were closer than that. You were supposed to trust each other with anything, since you’re going to be co-parenting. You didn’t want your kids to think that their mom and dad couldn’t talk to each other.

There was no avoiding it, you were going to ask him what was wrong. Tonight.

You make general small talk, which is weird for the two of you. You follow him into his kitchen where he offers you a water (he’s ran out of Diet Coke), and he turns his back to you to the sauce bubbling on the stove. You quietly sip at your drink as you watch him stir. Even now, as he’s just making food, he’s tense; his shoulders stiff, jaw clenched, and he’s holding that spoon just a bit too tightly.

“Santi, is everything okay?” you ask him, already knowing that it wasn’t.

He winces at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were there. He still doesn’t look at you as he answers, “Yeah, everything is fine.”

Fine.

There’s that word again. Every time you ask him if something is going on, it’s always ‘fine’.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think it is, Santi. You’ve been weird for weeks, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” he says, finally looking at you with an uneasy look on his face.

“There is, Santi. Come on, you can tell me. We’ve talked about communication – “

“Did it ever occur to you that I might not want you to know?”

Yikes, that stung. You blink at him a little, taken aback. “I-I mean, sure, but I just want you to know that you can be open with me and talk to me.”

He studies you for a moment before he shakes his head. “I can’t talk to you about this.”

He turns back to the sauce.

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t the right time.”

You frown at him and place your glass on the counter. You fold your arms as you watch him for a few moments. The silence in the kitchen weighs heavy before you break it with, “Okay.”

You don’t accept his answer, not one bit.

After a few more awkward minutes, the pasta is ready, and Santi is preparing a plate for you. He asks you shortly if you want cheese, or if you want another drink, and you shake your head at him before following him to his dining table. You sit opposite him, eating slowly as you keep glancing at him.

He’s asking you one-word questions on the food, not meeting your eyes when he does. It makes your heart sink. The last time he acted like this was when he thought you wanted to date and he was holding you back, back when you went shopping for baby clothes together and ran into Craig.

Surely now he still doesn’t think he was holding you back. But then why would he be arguing with his friends over something like that? Why would they even care about it? Unless Santi had told them something, or they have been pressuring him in some way. Why else would he engage in such heated discussions if there wasn't some underlying concern or conflict? The questions swirl in your mind, leaving you to ponder if they are somehow connected to your relationship with Santi, and its impact on yours and your babies’ life.

After a few more moments contemplating, you place your fork down before clearing your throat. “Santi, I only want to know what’s bothering you.”

“Por el amor de Dios,” Santi mutters, rolling his eyes as he slams the fork down on the table. He gives you a hard stare. “Just drop it, okay?”

“I don’t want to drop it,” you say, giving him a concerned look and you lean towards him slightly. “I’m worried about you! You’ve been arguing with Frankie and Will, that’s not like you – “

“How would you know, you’ve only known me eight months,” he snaps at you.

You balk at his reaction, leaning back from him. “That’s a long time, Santi, I like to think I know you pretty well.”

“No, eight months is in fact not a long time,” he snapped at you. There are a few moments of silence as you stare at one another, before Santi closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders finally slumping in defeat. He buried his head in his hands, his elbows leaning on the table.

You stare at him for a moment, not sure what to say. You bite your lip and look down at your plate, all of a sudden not even remotely hungry. You look back up at him before going to stand. “I’ll get going, we can catch up again another time, when you’re feeling better.”

He doesn’t say anything to stop you as you gather your things, before you spot something at the end of the corridor. The nursery door, Santi’s old spare room, was slightly open, and you could just see a pile of unopened boxes. Your brow furrows before you glance at Santiago, and suddenly make your way down the hallway.

The calls of your name go ignored as you push open the nursery door, only to find that…it wasn’t ready. Sure, it had been painted like Santiago said it had been, and there was a feature wall of some jungle themed wallpaper, but…that was it. The room was bare. The furniture you had shopped for together was still in the boxes, collecting dust. You looked around the room, sudden tears in your eyes as you take in the fact that the room felt cold, and nowhere near as if a new family would be using it.

You turn quickly to look at Santiago, who had followed you down the hall. He had an exhausted look on his face as he awkwardly tucked his hands into his jean's pockets.

You take in a shaky breath from the tears and look back at the room. “It’s not done.” You look at him, worry sitting densely in your stomach. “It’s not done, Santi. They’re going to be here in two weeks, and you haven’t fixed up their room. Why isn’t it done?”

Santiago doesn’t answer for a moment before he sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

Your heart sinks. You try to regulate your breathing as you turn back and ask him, “Tell me what?”

He sighs before running a hand through his hair, looking at anything but you. He can’t seem to stop fidgeting. “I can’t do this.”

Oh…no.

He can’t mean what you thought, right? He just meant dinner tonight, he couldn’t do dinner. Maybe he wasn’t well and felt bad about cancelling. Yeah, that’s what he meant. It has to be.

But you know, deep down, you were wrong.

You try and play dumb. To give him the chance to take it back, to rethink what he just said, because really, he can’t be saying this to you right now. Not now. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t…do that,” he said, looking back at you with a stern look in his eyes as he shakes his head. “Don’t be an idiot, you know what I mean.”

He’s never been so harsh with you before. You give one final look around the room before squaring your shoulders and turning back to him. “So, what, you…you don’t want to be involved anymore? Is that what you’re saying?”

He hesitates for a moment before giving a single nod.

You can feel the slow anger building in your chest, your skin practically prickling with tension. How could he do this to you, now? The air becomes thick with unspoken words, each heartbeat within you resonates with the weight of the betrayal that has unfolded before you.

As Santiago’s gaze falters and you both just stare at each other with nothing to say, you find yourself grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you. The trust you once held for him now hangs precariously in the balance, and the echoes of disbelief reverberate through the room.

You had never imagined that this moment would arrive, not now, not at a time when trust and loyalty were vital. You look back on the last few months, trying to see where it had all gone wrong. Was it back when you discussed your dating life? From what you knew, he hadn’t been seeing anyone, seriously or otherwise. Did he feel trapped? Was it the almost kiss on Halloween? No, he started acting weird after Thanksgiving. So what brought him to this conclusion, that he didn’t want to be a father anymore, that you had spent all this time together planning, and working on yourselves and together to become parents? Was it the scare that you’d had?

You loved this man. Loved him. Oh, God, you can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces.

“This just…came at an inconvenient time – “ he starts again, the prolonged silence evidently becoming too much.

Your jaw sets and you glare at him, the bubbling in your chest erupting. “Oh, I'm so sorry, when would this,” you gesture to your bump. “Have been more convenient for you?”

He closes his eyes for a moment in exasperation. “Don’t be like that – “

“Be like what?” you ask, your gaze still hard on him. “Don’t be upset? Don’t be angry? You’ve just told me you don’t want to be a father to our kids anymore! How am I not supposed to be upset?”

“I know it…it’s bad, honey, I know – “

“Don’t ‘honey’ me, you…you…” you gasp as you realise you’re crying. You reach up and touch your cheek, almost as if you’re shocked that you’re crying.

You’d never truly cried over a man before.

But it wasn’t just a man. It was your kids. Your babies, who would be here in two weeks, ones who you had planned a whole life for; to raise them in households full of love and warmth, where you thought their father would be a part of their lives. Where they would have three amazing uncles, who had welcomed you with open arms, who had helped you with your house.

Your heart stutters as you realise; they must have known. They must have known how Santiago was feeling when they organised your baby shower, when they were actually at your baby shower, when you were at Santiago’s place for Christmas…God, you bet they had a good laugh, knowing that you were being strung along. They knew he was planning on leaving you.

“When did…when did you plan to do this? When did you plan to leave me?” you ask him, wiping at your eyes harshly.

He swallows thickly before shaking his head. “I didn’t plan anything. It…look, it’s not important - “

“Yes, it is, Santiago,” you snap, pointing to your chest. “It’s important to me, to my kids!”

He watches you again, and you grit your teeth, trying not to look away from him. He looks you up and down before he matches your heated and tense energy, his arms crossing over his chest.

You scoff at him. “Really? You’re choosing to be quiet now?”

“I’m not cut out for this,” he says. “I’m not used to staying in one place for so long, and you’re a good ten years younger than me, you should be with someone your own age. This just wasn’t how I planned my life going, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you think I planned my life to go this way?” you ask him, starting to pace the small width of the hallway. “To get pregnant from a stranger after a one-night stand? I gave you every opportunity to leave when we found out about this – “

“Yeah, well, I should have left when you told me I could.”

You stop your pacing to look at him in disbelief. “Really?”

“You – and them – would be better off without me.”

“Oh don’t you spout that martyr bullshit on me,” you snap, finally stopping your pacing. You know you sound like a petulant teenager. But you’re angry. You’re fuming. “Is this because of Halloween? When we almost kissed?”

You see how he tenses. Neither of you had mentioned that night since it happened, having silently decided that it was the alcohol, that it wasn’t anything more to it than that.

He shakes his head. “It has nothing to do with Halloween.”

“Then it was Thanksgiving,” you say. “I took you away from your family, who you hadn’t seen in a while – “

“It has…” he starts, but he stops himself, running his hands down his face in frustration. “There is nothing specific that has happened, I’ve just had more time to think about it. And I don’t want it. I don’t want to be a dad.”

You’re crying again. “So all these months were just a lie? You were leading me on?”

“That is not what I was doing!” Santiago says defensively. “Don’t twist my words around!”

“I am two weeks away from having a C-section,” you cry. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!”

“I – “

“I should have fucking listened to you on our date. I should have seen this coming, really,” you say, giving a small, humourless laugh as you shake your head at yourself. “That you weren’t looking for anything serious, and there’s nothing more serious than two kids! And how you wouldn’t get rid of the truck – “

Santiago gives a loud, annoyed groan. “Again with the truck. Why does it always come back to the fucking truck? You’ve upturned my life enough, can I not keep something for myself?”

Something seems to snap in him then.

“You throw this huge bombshell on me, that not only are you pregnant, but it’s twins,” he says. “I had just come back to Florida after the worst year of my life, ready to have some normalcy, and I’m suddenly going to be a dad, with a woman who I barely know! And everyone seems to think I should be okay with it, to accept that this is my life now! And now my spare room is full of baby shit, my friends won’t stop talking about how much my life is going to change, and everyone keeps bombarding me about my truck. It’s my fucking truck, and it’s the only thing that I own that doesn’t even remotely have anything to do with a fucking baby!”

He stops, a little breathless. You stay silent after his outburst, and you look at each other silently before you both physically deflate. This is it. It’s over.

“So what?” you ask him. “It’s too much responsibility for you, and you’re starting to feel trapped? You don’t have your life anymore?”

He hesitates before nodding. “Yeah.”

You wipe at your eyes furiously. Jesus, why can’t you stop crying? This is embarrassing enough.

You nod at him with finality. “Okay then. Fine. I’ll just go.”

You wipe your eyes once again before walking past him, giving him a wide berth, because if you even so much as brush against him, to feel his touch, you’re going to break all over again. You make it to the front door before pausing. Is this really how this ends? With bitter words and your heart broken? You can’t believe this man, who you adored, loved with all your being, was doing this to you.

Your parents and sisters were right. He did decide to leave once he realised he didn’t want them. And you didn’t want them to be right, you wanted to be able to prove your family wrong, just like you had proved everyone else wrong whenever they made a judgement about you. How stupid and naïve you were.

No, you’re not stupid. Or naïve. You’re hopeful, and you had a great support system without Santiago, or your family.

Fuck your family and fuck him.

“You know what?” you ask, suddenly spinning around to look at Santiago. He looks at you, the exhausted look back on his face. “I don’t need you. They don’t need you. They don’t need to know that their dad didn’t want them. Do you know why? Because they have me. They will never know the feeling of being unwanted or abandoned. I will shower them with the love they deserve, and they will be surrounded by happiness.”

You didn’t stick around long enough for him to give a response. You slammed the door loudly on your way out, suddenly glad that you had driven here (although he hadn’t offered you a ride, which he usually did, but now you realise why he didn’t). All the things from the past few months were suddenly falling into place; he hadn’t called you corazón in forever, evidently realising the nickname didn’t have as much as a meaning to it as he thought. He hadn’t even taken much part in the baby shower your friends had thrown together for you. And of course, the stupid truck; you should have seen the signs long ago.

You reach your car and climb in. Taking a moment to yourself, the confined space offering a temporary sanctuary from the outside world, you finally let the fresh wave of tears stream down your face, leaving salty trails on your cheeks. Your shoulders heave with each ragged breath as you don’t bother holding back the sobs that had been pushing to escape.

Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly. The air inside the car feels heavy, saturated with the weight of your emotions. The warmth of the seat contrasts sharply with the chill that has settled in your chest. Time seems to lose its meaning as you sit there, caught in the grip of your emotions.

In this cocoon of seclusion, you fight with the complex feelings of a mix of sorrow and frustration, and you mourn the end of your relationship with Santiago.

After a few moments, you give one final sob, before taking yet another shaky deep breath. You wipe at your eyes again ferociously, before giving yourself a look in your mirror. You’re a mess. You don’t even recognise yourself in the mirror.

You flinch as a neighbour comes out one of the neighbouring apartments, a reminder of a world that continues to move forward while you're stuck in this bubble of despair. They don’t seem to notice you having a complete meltdown in your car. You best get going, you’ll look like a mad woman…and Santiago might be watching.

You start your car, and with one final look at Santiago’s apartment, you leave. For good.

• Por el amor de Dios - For the love of God

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

[behoright]

eye on you l a. svechnikov

summary: andrei is oh so drunk, and he needs you to pick him up from the bar.

wordcount: 4.5k

warnings: sexually suggestive, a lil cursing and mentions of alcohol and such. but that's it. very fluffy and corny. barely proofread yikes.

a/n: the way no one asked for this. go blame it on @ryanpulock again.

∬ ﹒ 🪱 . ° 🛼 ﹒ ❊

Another night in. Nothing new. Despite all of your friends’ efforts to drag you out of your apartment. Again.

It wasn’t that you disliked the company of your friends or even the atmosphere of a bar. Every night just simply didn’t feel like the night. And tonight was no different.

Looking back, it had always taken you a while to make friends, but it had never been too hard. Both in middle school and high school you had been able to find your own little group that you felt accepted and loved in. It was a little bit more daunting when you moved to Raleigh, getting to a new city with virtually no connections. It all seemed to find its natural way to work out once you began college, as always. You felt very lucky to have found the friends you have now, those who stuck with you from your first year up until now. You weren’t done with your studies, not even close, but your internship paid enough for you to move into an apartment all on your own. It didn’t take long for your friends to get copies of your key, barging in and out any time they wanted. 

Seemingly, every Friday night, legitimately forcing you out of bed and into whatever cute dress you had collecting dust in the closet. It was hard to admit, but once you got to the bar, you actually did have fun. The sounds of various people socializing along with the pouring of drinks or the sharp crack of a pool stick made you forget about the endless piles of schoolwork you had sitting on your desk. 

You usually ended up thanking your girls for taking you out, even in the mornings when you found yourself hunched over your toilet bowl.

Come to think of it now, that was exactly how you had met Andrei.

Another night of you dragging your heels through the city, whining about all of your upcoming deadlines.

You can recall the dullness of that one night; propped up on the bar, painfully and as politely as possible rejecting the few men that would attempt to come near you. Just as you were walking towards the bathroom, focusing on exactly how you were going to break it to your friends that you were going to call it an early night, your body was jolted backward by a large, large object. 

Have I run into a wall? you remember thinking to yourself.

It was only when the wall moved that you realized. A man.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” he said, very obviously eyeing your chest. 

It was only when you felt the dampness spread to your chest that you realized what had actually happened, your tight white dress stained with a faint red tint.

“Uh, it’s okay.” you said, even if it was clearly not.

“Here, I can help you.” the very flustered stranger suggested, immediately reaching down to worsen the stain with a napkin. 

It’s the thought that counts, I guess.

An awkward silence surrounded you both when he realized just how bad this was getting.

“It’s really okay, don’t worry” you reassured him, walking away from him. 

Washing your hands in the restroom you realized that it was definitely time to go home. 

It was only when the cold air hit you as soon as you stepped outside that you heard a voice calling for you.

“I can pay for it, you know.” 

“You’re following me?” you asked, unable to hide the smirk on your face.

“No! No, no, I mean, yes, a little, but not like that.” he stuttered out, scratching the back of his neck. “I tried to find you, but you are leaving so quickly. I hope I didn’t ruin your night.”

“It’s no problem, really. I can pay for this too.” you repeated. “It was an accident, after all.”

The man’s face softened, stepping closer to you.

“Let me make it up to you, at least.” he proposed, signaling back to the bar. “I’m Andrei. Nice to meet you.”

And somehow, since that night, you ended up as friends. At times, you swore you saw him more often than the girls. 

You didn’t know this, but it was incredibly refreshing for Andrei to have met you the way he did. He knew from the moment he offered to pay for the mess that you had no clue who he was, and he knew he wasn’t a superstar, but it was rare to go unrecognized in a hockey town like Raleigh. 

Especially with women. 

He never ever complained, aware that he was living most men’s dream, to have any girl at his disposal every night; but sometimes he did wish to enjoy a drink with his boys and not be bothered. He just wished he knew what someone’s intentions truly were. He had come to find, over the years in the NHL, that most women's intentions weren’t what they communicated. So after he met you he played it really safe. You had never disappointed him though, and didn’t seem to be interested in anything other than his company. So over the years he was able to let his guard down, slowly but surely, and he felt lucky to be able to call you a close friend.

He knew he could always count on you. And he hoped you felt the same way.

Even if, throughout the years, his feelings had deepened, but he would have never admitted that. Not even to himself. They stayed buried, a fire burning still under a pile of emotional dirt.

There was no harm in spending time with you, and really thinking about you most of the time. And as far as he knew, no one, including you, could really tell. So he was planning to keep it that way. 

Until tonight. 

The team had been on a great winning streak, and after a rougher start to the season, it felt like they were gaining momentum. The more they won, the more motivated they all felt to keep pushing harder. They were all laser-focused, eyes on the prize, shedding blood and sweat every single day. Thankfully for them, their coach had other plans. 

Rod was a tough man, probably more hard-working than all of them combined, and he didn’t take effort lightly. 

But he had also learned over the years that things came easier when he was able to find and implement balance, and that philosophy quickly became a staple in his coaching. That’s how they ended up swarming a local bar that Friday night, high off another win and with two whole days of rest coming up. 

And no player was going to decline drinks at the expense of management. 

They had celebrated before, but tonight Andrei was feeling exceptionally thrilled. Getting first star was a feeling he knew he would never get tired of. And so he decided to push it a little further, settling on shots to start out the night. Considering he wasn’t the only one in that mood, he found himself downing harsh clear liquid again multiple times that evening while holding tonight’s special in his other hand.

Whatever sense of control he had immediately dissipated as the alcohol began taking effect, Andrei coming to the realization that he hadn’t gotten drunk since last summer. Perhaps he had gone a little too far, a little too early.

This is how you got yanked out of your focus, the loud ringtone of your phone stopping the classical music that accompanied you as you finished your paper.

Puzzled as to who in the world could have been calling you at such an ungodly hour, you grabbed your phone, surprised at seeing Jarvy’s name light up your screen.

“Hello?” you answered, your heart's pace moderately picking up, considering the time of night.

“Hey! Y/N! What’s up?” he yelled, his voice standing out from the sounds of people and music in the background.

“Um, not much, just studying.” you said, slightly annoyed. 

You actually had to hold yourself back from spouting out “No, I don’t want to go out. Not tonight.”

“Cool, cool, uh, sorry to bother you, but we kinda need your help.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting up in your chair.

“The boys and I came out to celebrate tonight, and um, your best friend Svech here is a little too drunk.”

“hello, it’s your best friend svech here!”

That was definitely Andrei you just heard yelling in the background of the phone call, and from the tone of voice, volume, and slur of the words, Seth wasn’t kidding. After some giggles, he continued.

“We were planning to stay out pretty late today, seeing as how we don’t have anything this weekend, but Andrei really needs to get home. I have never seen him this drunk, to be really honest with you. Do you think you could help us out and get him home?”

You sighed, looking at your desk, covered in notecards and books. 

“Um, let me think.” you muttered, fooling yourself that you were thinking about it.

“For sure, for sure. He just keeps asking about you; he basically forced me to call you, and I think that’s because he cannot use his phone right now if he wanted to.”

“Geez, okay, okay.” you said. “Can you send me the address and I’ll find a ride there? I’m guessing he doesn’t want his car to stay there overnight.” 

“Probably not, yeah.” he laughed. 

You swore you heard someone utter that “she’s coming, she’s coming.” in the background before you both hung up. 

It was going to be a long night.

Your friend was kind enough to give you a ride to the bar. For some reason, nerves started to bubble up in your stomach on your way there. You wondered if it was because of how underdressed you were, just a T-shirt and jeans to a snazzy, Canes-worthy bar.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way you really felt about Andrei. 

But that was a place you never went to. 

Nope. 

And tonight was definitely not going to be the time to confront that.

Walking into the bar, it didn’t take you long to realize you hadn’t been wrong. This was not the usual environment you were used to going to, not even with Andrei. It didn’t take long for you to find the group of friends, thanks to Andrei.

“Oh, I cannot believe you’re here.” he slurred. “You came here for me?”

“Just for you, Drei.”

“Oh, oh my god. Come here.” he said, wrapping his biceps around your neck. 

“Take a shot with me” he whispered in your ear.

“No, no, no more shots.” you said. “I gotta take you home.”

“Oh, no fun, cmon. Just one. I was the star, Y/N. I don’t make you proud?”

“You did amazing, Svech. You made me very proud.”

Andrei’s expression changed, his eyes staring deeply into you with his bottom lip securely tucked in his mouth.

“Okay, troublemaker. Let’s get you home.” you said, confused. 

Why was he looking at you…like that?

“But, but you will be nice to me?” he said, looking deeper into you.

“When have I not?”

“Oh, you right, you right. You’re always so good to me, I love you so much, come here.”  Andrei went on, pushing your head into the crook of his neck again. 

The look that the guys were giving you as you were in the embrace made your eyes roll. What was going on tonight?

“Uh, here’s Andrei’s keys.” you heard Brady say as soon as he let you go. “I took them from him, just in case.”

“Thanks, Brady. He doesn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, right?”

“No, he can sleep in. God knows he’ll probably need it.” he chuckled. 

“Sounds good. I think we should probably get going, before he ge-

“Andrei! Stop!” Brady interrupted you midsentence, your head snapping back just to find Andrei taking down another shot. 

“Andrei, no more! You’re going to get sick!” you said, taking the glass again from the giggling, grown 6’3 man standing in front of you.

“It’s because you didn’t do any, I had to do one for you.” he slurred, in between giggles. The drink had spilled all over his chin - this was getting worse.

“Alright, we’re leaving dude. Say goodbye.”

“Boys!” Andrei was met with cheers as he turned around with open arms to say goodbye to his teammates, who gave him a big group hug. You couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 

He was… so wasted. 

So, so wasted, you thought to yourself, watching him kiss Sebastian on the head before stumbling over to you.

“Can you walk?” 

“I, I can walk.” he said. It was inevitable that his eyes were darting around the room for balance, however.

“Are you sure, Andrei?”

“Okay, maybe not too well.”

“Come. Hold onto me.” you instructed him, wrapping his forearm around your shoulders. He was definitely leaning a little too much weight onto you, but the car wasn’t too far away, and he simply could not walk in a straight line at the moment. 

Andrei sighed as the cold air hit his face. He ran hot, and the liquor had only raised his temperature more. 

“Oh, wait, wait. That feels good.” he said, stopping in his tracks. 

“What does?” you giggled, looking up at him. 

“I’m so hot, wait, wait.”. He forced himself to stay on his own two feet as he moved his hands to his shirt, unbuttoning his sweaty baby blue button-up all the way down, his silky abs peeking through. Unfortunately for you, you were caught staring.

“That’s better, is it not, Y/N?” he said, looking up at you with a smirk.

“Do you feel better now?” you responded, your eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Oh, so much better, so hot in there.” he said, throwing his weight on top of you again.

You made it through the parking lot unscathed, even though you were 85% sure that Andrei’s eyes were closed as he slurred incoherent sayings all the way throughout.

“Oh, you’re so beautiful, Y/N.” he said, as you finally opened the passenger door and helped him sit. His eyes weren’t leaving your face as you bent over to fasten his seatbelt. 

“You are so nice to me.” he said, caressing your arm sloppily when you made sure his feet were facing forward. 

“Of course I’m nice to you, Svech. Let’s get you home, alright?” you said, looking at him from outside of the car.

“Oh, wow, that’s so nice. So, so nice. I want to kiss you so badly.” 

The declaration stopped you dead in your tracks, your hand freezing on the car door. It was basically impossible to read him, considering he was so drunk that his head was thrown back into the seat, with his eyes closed and the goofiest smile on his face. 

“Yes, please, let me give you a kiss.” he repeated, bringing his index finger to his cheek. 

Oh. 

That type of kiss. 

Disappointment washed over you, as well as relief, surprisingly, as you leaned down. Andrei grabbed your chin hard and began placing kisses all over your cheek, covering your face with them and of course, more giggles that reverberated on your skin. 

“Alright, uh, thank you, Drei.” you uttered, leaning back out of the car, carefully. 

“No, no, no thank you. It’s how I say thank you. Like that.” he giggled, reaching to weakly poke your cheek. You shook your head before shutting the door, taking deep breaths before getting behind Andrei’s wheel. 

The air in the car felt different. You had hung out with Andrei countless times, gotten this drunk and probably even more, and he had never acted this way before. From the moment you walked into the bar you knew, something had shifted. It wasn’t necessarily a bad shift, but you couldn’t put your finger on it and it made you feel uneasy. 

Or maybe it was that Andrei usually took over most of your thoughts whenever you weren’t buried under a pile of books and papers, and the fact that you pushed that away as much as you could. 

Seeing him act so cuddly and loving towards you felt good, but it was fanning the flames of an unrequited crush, and quite honestly, it was really depressing. 

To know that you had those feelings for him, as buried as they were, and you were stuck in the seat of his car taking care of him like a best friend. 

It really was not helping that his eyes hadn’t left you the whole night, but you figured that it was best to blame it on the liquor. 

There was absolutely no way it was anything else.

“You’re so quiet, Y/N.” Andrei said, still facing you.

“I’m trying to focus here, Svech. Your car is a lot faster than the piece of shit I drive.”

“You like it? It’s nice car, huh?” he said, rubbing his fingers on the headrest, his bicep flexing through the thin fabric of his dress shirt. 

“It’s a lovely car.” you said, telling yourself to just keep your eyes on the road. It felt wrong to gawk at him when he was in such a state, anyways. 

“Yeah, I knew you liked it. I thought of you when I got it.”

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed. 

“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t say, but I thought maybe she thinks I’m cool with this car.” he said. His voice had gone from excited to a lazy, almost sultry way of slurring his words. Truly, you just hoped he wouldn’t fall asleep in the car. 

And with that, it really hit you. 

Another strange, unexpected confession.

“I didn’t think you’d consider me in your car buying process, Svech.” you said, momentarily looking at him. 

He was definitely getting sleepy, and it wasn’t hard to tell considering how much he was sliding down the seat. It was making his flushed abdomen flex in such a deli-

The road. Focus on the road. 

“I think about you all the time.” he whispered, finally snapping his head back forward.

Your heart was beating completely out of your chest. 

You knew you were just framing this wrong, that he didn’t mean any of this like that, but you couldn’t help but get nervous at all of it. It was just the way he was looking at you was making you even more jittery, his brown, chocolate eyes had burned a hole into you ever since you walked into that bar. 

Thankfully for you, you had arrived.

“Well, here we are. Let’s go rest.” you said, getting out of the car impossibly fast. Before you could walk over to the passenger door to help him, you found Andrei leaning on the car, his head resting on the top of it. 

“No, no, no, Andrei, c’mon.” you said, running over to him. “Sleep in bed, love. Not here.”

Andrei’s head perked up, once again throwing his arm (and a LOT of his weight) on your shoulders.

“I like it when you call me love. I’m going to call you that now.” he said, slopping walking towards his door. 

You couldn’t believe you had gotten him in one piece into his house, but there you were. Now it was only a question of time before he fell asleep and you could go back to your regular. He’d probably forget the whole thing the next day, and that was a good thing. 

Andrei managed to somehow run as soon as the door opened, sprinting sloppily with dragged feet to his refrigerator. 

“You could have seriously hurt yourself.” you said, sneaking up behind him. Andrei turned around, his mouth full of the leftover burrito he snatched from the fridge. 

“Love, oh love, this is so good. Here, try it.” he said, his mouth full as he shoved the burrito in your face. 

Seeing him like this, you couldn’t help but smirk. 

It had been a while since you’d seen him so disheveled: the open shirt, the sweat and flush on his face, guac dripping from the side of his mouth. It always made you happy to see him so relaxed. 

You tentatively leaned forward and took a bite of the cold Mexican food, giggling as you saw his eyes light up. 

“That’s good, yes.” you laughed, watching him inhale another gigantic bite.

“Did you see, love, I won the star?” he kept babbling on, his eyes focused on his meal. 

“You got first star, yes, Andrei.” you chuckled, placing a cold hand to your forehead.

“I did good, yes?” 

“You did amazing.”

Andrei proceeded to lift up his arms in victory, a glop of salsa splattering right on his white dress shirt. 

“Oh, shit.” he said. 

You swore he gave you a cocky smirk before taking the shirt off, leaving him fully shirtless, his freckled skin still damp and red from the alcohol.

“Um, let’s get you to bed, Svech.” you uttered as he started slowly walking towards you, throwing the burrito wrapper on the floor. 

Andrei wrapped his big arms around your neck once again; he smelled like sweat, and bar, and alcohol, but you didn’t care, choosing to stay involved in his physical presence as much as you could for tonight. 

“I was the first star for you.” he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 

“Thanks, Andrei.” you whispered, looking up at his gaze, intuitively attempting to read his intentions. You had been touchy before, and Andrei was a clingy friend in general, but never this relentless and… forward. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” he whispered, placing a kiss on your head. 

The best outcome to this was him just falling asleep as soon as he hit his mattress, honestly. 

Tomorrow this will all be another memory that you’d have to hide and try to forget. Another event you read wrong. 

“Baby, I won the game, baby.” Andrei said, his eyes closed, as soon as you got him into his bedroom.

“Yep.” you said, coldly, impatient for him to get to sleep already so you could leave as soon as possible. 

“I won, baby! I won the game!” he repeated while you adjusted his unmade bed. 

“You did win.”

“Why you ignore my pet names, huh?” he said, wrapping his arms around you, and engulfing your body from the back.

“Because you’re wasted! You need to sleep!”

“But you’re my baby.”

“Yes, yes. I’m your baby. Now let’s get your pants off.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” he said smugly. 

“Oh, shush.”

You managed to get his shoes off in quite a record time and with no injuries, same with his pants. You never imagined that you’d be in this position, and honestly, you wished the context was different. As his legs came into vision, you dreamed how you’d like it if you were both sober, him just as clingy and affectionate. 

But that wasn’t the case, and it felt wrong to fantasize when he was like this, so you snapped out of it quickly. You were caught by surprise when you came face to face with him, his gaze already on you. You sighed and looked away, thinking about the next step. But Andrei couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

“I wish you were my real baby.” Andrei whispered, running his thumb down your cheek as you reached over to undo his chain. “My real girl.”

You were unbelievably close now, his heaving chest grazing yours as you attempted to undo the clasp without looking up at him. 

“I am a real girl, Andrei.” you said, turning away swiftly from him to place the piece of jewelry on the nightstand just as quickly as it was off. 

Avoid, avoid, avoid.

“No, I me-”

“Get in here.” you said, holding his comforter up. Andrei's head fell forward, almost comically, as he stomped over and slithered under his covers. 

“Now, do you keep this on even when you sleep?” you teased him, poking at his cap as soon as he was settled in bed. 

Andrei’s face changed to a dark red as you pulled the hat off his head, a dorky smile now looking up at you.

“There we go. That’s better.” you whispered, unconsciously running your hand through his soft hair. It was hard to stop; you had dreamed about doing this every night almost. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to have to kiss you.”

“You got way too wasted tonight, Drei. You won’t remember but you’ve been speaking nonsense ever since I went to get you.”

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

“Andrei…”

Andrei’s hands snapped up, fast and unexpectedly pulling your face into his into a deep kiss. It was so surprising that you had no reaction initially, eventually letting yourself melt into him. He kissed you passionately, moving his lips to feel every single inch of yours over and over again. The more he gave you, the more he softened you, your body finding a place to sit on the bed to become more enveloped in him. 

“An-”

“Listen to me, now. Your turn to listen to me.” he said, interrupting you as he barely pulled away. 

“I don’t think I am brave enough to say, but now I am. I like you. I want you. I want you to be mine only. My girl. My girlfriend.” he uttered before his eyes went back down to your mouth, ultimately pulling you in for another kiss. 

“How you cannot see? I only want to see you every day. No other girl, I have felt like this before. Please, baby.” he said, in between kisses. 

“I know you feel the same way, I know it. I see how you look at me, but I don’t understand why you won’t say it to me. Come on, baby, look at how you’re kissing me.”

“I, I’m scared, Andrei. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“Baby, you will not ruin anything. It will be so amazing now. You will make me the happiest man. Yeah?”

“...Yeah” you whispered into him, nodding your head and feeling the tip of his nose rub against yours. 

“Yeah, baby!” he exclaimed against your lips before pulling you in countless times. 

“I don’t really think you’re going to remember this tomorrow, but, we’ll see.” you sighed, anxiety running through your veins.

“I am not forgetting this, no way. I know I will remember this. Come into bed with me now.” he said, happily patting the empty spot next to you. 

You weren’t sure you were processing everything that was happening as you got under the covers with him, his arms coming towards you to pull you closer. 

Time seemed to stop as your bodies touched, minutes ticking by as you stared at each other’s blushed faces. 

“I want another one.” he whispered, leaning down towards your mouth before you could pull back. 

“You’re still drunk.”

“Not as drunk as you think I am.”

“What?”

“You thought I couldn’t do this?” he said, placing the tips of his fingers on his nose repeatedly. There was no way he had enough coordination to do that.

“Did you trick me, Svechnikov?”

“Maybe I took advantage of how I was feeling. The room is still spinny though.” 

“That’s what I thought.” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Do you promise you’ll still kiss me when I’m sober tomorrow?”

“I promise. I promise.”

[manheimsmuse]

Hi Ivory 😊👋

So uhm, I don’t know, can I request something for ben plunkett, fluff please 😊

Maybe with a very shy reader. Well it takes place after the movie, if it's okay. Uhm the reader is at the same university as him and is smart and helped him in the lessons and he adores her because he thinks that she is cute. So he tries to talk to her more and then after some weeks they are getting friends very soon but they fell in love in each other but neither of them knows each other’s feelings.

One day he wanted to kiss the reder but got interrupted to kiss them 3 times. And one time he has finally the opportunity to do it.

So I just realized that I got carried away, I'm so sorry. But I thought it's cute 🙈

Thank you so much 😊

THIRD TIMES A CHARM ; BEN PLUNKETT

a/n ; i love that little dork ben so so much he means the world to me actually

warnings ; afab!reader, fem pronouns, fluff, no smut just cut because i go on too much, not edited or proofread yikes.

world history being an elective confused you, as a history major you couldn’t help but wonder why someone would subject themselves to this class by choice. it was mandatory for you, but there was about ten students from other majors that shared the class with you.

ben plunkett was one of these students, you actually don’t know why he took the elective, you assumed it was just to get extra credits on his degree because there was no way he was enjoying the class. you could tell in the way he zoned out in lectures, or worked on homework for other classes at the back of the room.

you weren’t all that surprised when he came to you for tutoring, your professor posted your grades on the class board to encourage ‘healthy competition’ and your name frequented the top of the list while ben’s floated somewhere along the middle.

tutoring ben was easy, he was smart enough to catch up on his own, that much was clear every time you asked him a question and he answered correctly without hesitation. why he needed the help was beyond you, but you did it anyway, you were enjoying it surprisingly.

the longer the two of you spent together the more obvious it became that you liked each other. you were quiet, not stupid, it didn’t need to be pointed out to you that ben liked you, whether or not he knew how obvious it was was another thing. you weren’t all that discreet either, though you’d never actually tell ben how you felt, unless of course he told you first.

meeting in the library quickly evolved into meeting at coffee shops, his usual ‘hey!’ replaced with a ‘you look really pretty today’ or ‘there’s my good luck charm’. coffee shops then evolved into dorm rooms the closer you got, half studying half just spending time together with the excuse of tutoring to mask any feelings that could slip through.

eventually ben asked you to come over to watch a movie, no mention of textbooks or homework, just you, him and his old macbook thrown on his bed to watch some movie he’d probably seen a million times before.

that was the first time he tried to kiss you.

his arm was lazily draped over your shoulders as you lay back together, eyes focused on the small screen and trying to ignore the way your stomach lurched every time his hand brushed against your arm. he’d leant in when you turned to ask him about the movie, and you were more than willing to let it happen, only for his roommate barging in unannounced to ask about leftover pizza in the kitchen.

the second time was in the library.

this time you were actually studying for a test, it wasn’t one of the big ones, just a mid semester exam to see how everyone was doing with the syllabus so far. usually you sat across from each other, but more recently you would occupy the seat next to ben, just to share a textbook of course.

“you look really pretty right now,” ben mumbles, face close to yours as you both lean over the same textbook, the two of you close enough that your foreheads could touch “oh, god, i didn’t mean to say that out loud. i mean - you do look pretty right now, you always look really pretty but-“

“ben, relax..” you giggle, already feeling the blush creeping across your face as you interrupted his anxious rambling “you look really pretty too.”

there’s a brief silence where you both find yourself leaning in again, only for bens phone to ring out loudly leaving him to scramble to silence the call from his best friend mandy.

the third time was at the campus bar.

your friends had invited you out to celebrate the end of finals, ben’s friend mandy had come up to visit him. instead of blowing one off for the other, ben simply merged the two and brought mandy along to meet the group.

the two of you didn’t get to talk much, between mandy talking his ear off as they caught up and your own conversations with you friends, you were both too preoccupied to fawn over each other.

“hey, come help?”

ben placed his hand on your shoulder to grab your attention as he passed, taking one for the team and offering to grab the next round.

he refused to let you pay for your own drink no matter how much you insisted, the pair of you shamelessly flirting now that you had a moment to yourselves.

it was a horrible sense of deja vu as you both leaned in, getting so close only to be stopped by mandy’s voice calling out to him from the table. something about someone wanting a different drink.

you shut your eyes to hide the eyeroll, missing how ben completely ignored mandy to bring his hand to the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. an actual kiss.

“finally”

you accidentally mutter aloud when you separate, ignoring the jaw dropped stares coming from your table as you remain in each others personal space.

“you know what they say, third times a charm.”

[notsoattractivearenti]

Between Us (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

Song Inspo: They Don't Know About Us - One Direction

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: curse words, a little angst but mostly fluff

A/N: I miss Christian (I mean, don't we all?) so I decided to write a fluff for him 🥹💕 Hope you all enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts through reply/reblog/ask! 🫶 Special thanks to @ariddletobesolved for proofreading 💖 Feedbacks would be highly appreciated!

–––

“They don’t know how special you are

They don’t know what you’ve done to my heart

They can say anything they want

‘Cause they don’t know us”

–––

Since the moment your relationship with Christian went public, you’ve been receiving a lot of mixed reactions. Some are positives, and some are negatives. Dating a famous professional athlete was never in your book, but somehow you met and fell in love with him despite his job and status. Besides, you can’t really control who you love can you? You didn’t care that he’s famous nor will you ever, because it didn’t matter. What truly matters is the genuine love shared between the two of you.

No, you’re not a celebrity. You weren’t famous at all. You work nowhere near the media or even football. You’re just someone ‘ordinary’. You randomly met him at a bar in London during a night-out with your girlfriends – one went to a college in London, and you happened to be in the city to visit her. You knew who Christian was but you didn’t want to freak him out so you tried to act cool, and before you knew it he asked for your number. From there on, the rest is history.

Days before you two went ‘Instagram official’, you were already so anxious about how people were going to react. You know he has a lot of fans, and they could be pretty ruthless with their comments. They basically could get away with anything, since they could create any persona they wanted and stayed anonymous on the internet, which was and still is terrifying to even think about. You didn’t want to hear people talking shit about your relationship, but at the same time you knew it was sort of inevitable. You two wanted to keep it lowkey, but didn’t want to hide it from the world. After long talks and careful considerations, you both decided to go public.

You couldn’t be grateful for the support people have given you, but negative comments about you and your relationship sometimes would mess with your head. 

“What the fuck does he find attractive about her??? cause I don’t see it!! 🤮”

“they’re not gonna last. mark my words”

“yikes... everyone knows Pulisic deserves better”

“😒 how they got together in the first place I’ll never know”

“she’s so basic... lmao puli open ur fucking eyes 🙄”

“another episode of clout-chasing girlie dating a footballer”

“if he does terrible on the pitch now u know why”

You’ve been trying to ignore those awful comments, but since you’re not used to the attention, it was hard not to think about those things they’d said. You knew they’re nothing but strangers on the internet, but you couldn’t stop thinking to yourself: what if everything they said was true? Am I not good enough for Christian? Does this relationship not make sense? Are we not going to last?

Christian has been very protective of you, and he’s told you so many times to just ignore everything. He’s been reassuring you that those internet trolls have no idea what they’re talking about.

“Y/N, love... Stop. Just stop looking at those comments.” He took your phone, locked the screen, and put it away. 

“You are perfect for me, Y/N, they just don’t know that. God, you’re fucking amazing! Believe me, if they got to know you, they would take their words back.”

You shrugged and shook your head while looking down, “You’re my boyfriend, of course you’d say that.”

His brows knitted as he let out a sigh, “No, that’s not true! Even if I wasn’t, I’d definitely say what I said. Why can’t you see it?”

“Christian...” You paused, “do you think our relationship is going to last? I mean, I love you...” You were fidgeting your fingers, hesitated a little to continue because you were afraid of how he was going to react. 

“But I- I just... I don’t think I’m good enough for you,” you whimpered.

“Excuse me?”

You took a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact, “maybe they were right, Chris. You deserve bet-”

“No,” he cut you off before you even finished what you were saying, “don’t even think about it. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend if I didn’t think we’re going to last. There is- hey, look at me,” as he lifted up your chin, your eyes met his beautiful chocolate eyes, “there is no one else that fits me better but you, Y/N. You are my one and only. If anything, you are way out of my league.” 

You blushed, trying not to giggle but you couldn’t help it. “Dammit Pulisic, you really have a way with words don’t you?”

He grinned, he was pleased to hear your cute little giggle. “I’m the luckiest fucking guy,” he said before he leaned closer to you, his lips was gently pressed against yours for a moment, then he whispered, “I still couldn’t believe you are mine.”

That man really swept you off your feet. You have never experienced this kind of love before. Every single day with him feels like heaven. When it’s just the two of you, it feels like the world revolves around you – nothing else matters but you and him. He is the only man you’ve ever had late night talks with – well, it’s mostly late night for him because you live in the States and you’re like 5 hours behind him. Hell, you both dropped the L bomb to one another a month into your relationship – your friends thought it was way too fast, but the truth is it wasn’t. You had never been so sure about any man ever, and you just knew Christian is different – special, one-of-a-kind. 

Before no one acknowledged you, you felt a lot freer. You didn’t have to worry about how others would perceive you or judge you. Now, people are watching your every move, ready to bring up even the tiniest mistake you made just because you’re dating their favorite footballer. You became very self-conscious, and Christian noticed that. He felt guilty because he thought because of him you had to go through this and he knew you didn’t deserve any of the horrible judgements, but he’s never stopped giving you the reassurance you needed. At one point, he wanted to post something on Instagram to defend you, however you told him not to so he didn’t do it.

“Baby...” as he held your hands, “honestly, I just want the world to know you’re mine. I’m sorry that I’ve caused you any trouble, but I don’t want you to worry ‘cause I’m always here for you. They don’t know shit about us, they really don’t...”

“I know Chris, I know. I just, um... I need time to get used to this, you know? This is the risk I have to take to be with you, and I will eventually find my way around it.”

He smiled and nodded, he understood how you were feeling. “Let’s just keep things between us, yeah? It’s more than enough that they now know we’re together. Who cares, right?”

You laughed a bit, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I just want you to know... You’re it for me.” He kissed the top of your head, then rested his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/N. Now and forever.”

Your cheeks turned bright red and the biggest smile appeared on your face. “I love you, Christian.”

–––

“They don’t know about the things we do

They don’t know about the I love you’s

But I bet you if they only knew,

They would just be jealous of us”

–––

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem

[kleewie]

i knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed

summary: drunk nights like these always end with your mind in a drowsy numbness. but why does your heart pound like a drum in your chest—fast and hot in anticipation of something more than just friends? (in other words, a modern au about drunk nights, hand holding, and unsaid feelings).

→ pairings: childe, zhongli, & alhaitham

→ warnings: fluff, light cursing, not proofread, mentions of drinking and alcohol, gender neutral reader

→ author’s note: i had a dream about my old crushes. as much as i want to say “yikes!! stop that cringe,” i got to admit it made my heart go doki-doki! plus binge listening to taylor’s reputation + midnights albums made the idea pop into my head. slight present tense issues are present (probably) ‘cause it hasn’t been proof read ;-; anyhow, i hope you enjoy it!

credits to @a-cure-for-writers-block on tumblr for the prompts!

beware, slight lengthy post ahead!

feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful! i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing (*´∀｀*)

childe: the sponsor-and-instigator

seemingly, the reason why you’re almost half-dead on the floor.

childe decides it’s a great idea to sponsor a fifth round of drinks when (a majority of) the group threaten to leave.

you and the bunch don’t though,

the shiny allure of brand new drinks put up a convincing fight.

so when you’re cursing his name, slamming imaginary daggers at his back,

the actual demon stands over your tired body, as if summoned. obviously delighted by your drunken state, he sends you a cheeky grin.

you, annoyed at his antics, return his smile with one of your own.

one screaming dare me, i'll leave you to vomit your guts out.

honestly, you never know what he's thinking.

your relationship with the ginger is, in short, awkward. both of you are in the same friend group.

yet, you seem to be closer to actual strangers than with him.

a chance to bond never presented itself. hence, you're stuck in a state of wariness and longing— slightly afraid to offend the man you're trying to be friends with.

so when the opportunity arises (a night out to drink for fun's sake), you immediately agree.

now, you're stuck in this predicament.

a hand behind his back, his arm around your shoulder, your whole body carrying the weight of his, stumbling around.

figures. the reason why he'd approach your tipsy condition is that you're the only one willing to carry (drag his ass) to the sofa.

bad call.

previously, you lounged half-dead on the second floor. which means, you'll have to haul him safely down the stairs.

him climbing the stairs, instead of crawling himself into the couch, baffles you. i mean, the last time you see him is downstairs.

anyway, certain someone (a drunk kaeya, “oops!”) forgets to wipe the pool of water he spilled on the lower steps.

causing you to slip first. as you're the one pulling his body, he soon follows.

the first thing you hear is a loud smack.

and the first thing you think is: you killed him.

“oh god!” you blurt.

you're almost disappointed to hear his sudden laughter. almost.

“i fell for you,” he mumbles.

crouching over him, you furrow your brows. “don't tell me…” you hesitate. “…do you have a concussion?”

childe promptly sits up, gripping your wrist. his sober blue eyes meet yours in a silent plea, as if begging you to grasp the message he's trying to convey.

to realize he's not fooling around.

to understand he’s serious.

maybe that's why it’s so difficult, so embarrassing, so upsetting for you to begin a friendship with the man.

you never want to be friends.

you desire something else, something different, something more.

his fingers, gripping your wrist, slide up in a gentle caress, “why would i try so hard to make you stay?” you feel his thumb brush your shoulder. “why would i try so hard to catch your eye?” his hand skims your cheek. “all the jokes, the teasing, the lingering gazes— all of it.”

childe slides his hand, softly resting his thumb on your lips.

and you swallow a lump in your throat.

“don't look at me like that and then feign innocence,” he whispers. “you keep saying we're friends, but you look at me for a moment too long for that to be true.”

more under the cut!

zhongli: the low-tolerance drunk

at any given occasion (involving drinking), there are ten kinds of drunks.

apparently, zhongli’s the type to look like he can hold his liquor.

but looks can be deceiving, as he’s the first one to drop his glass and sprint to the bathroom.

why he’d rush off after one more cup? who knows.

you feel guilty though. i mean, you’re the one pestering him to chug a glass down.

your pouty lips, twinkling eyes, and soft convincing voice entice him to drink against his one-bottle agenda.

you're that persuasive.

but when he leaves, you feel the loneliness hit. ironic as you cause him to depart in the first place.

hu tao glances at your sullen form, slightly snickering.

it's obvious. extremely obvious how captivated you are by the dark haired man.

a small crush develops into something more intense. you could bask in all his greatness, yet, still be wanting more.

you sigh and wish he'd come back from his break sooner.

since it's mandatory to order additional drinks for sulking individuals. being the best companion (wingwoman) she is, hu tao drags you towards the bartender.

as she orders more glasses, a couple of intoxicated men approach you.

looking at how unsteady they are on their feet and how they stink like alcohol, you assume one had too many to drink.

“hey, cutie.” one slurs. “begging for some lovin'?”

you say, “no, thanks.” and step away. adding, “i'm with a friend.” when you see them follow you.

your eyes search for hu tao, but the amount of people piling around the bar obscure your vision of her.

the other man smirks, “playing hard to get?”

you roll your eyes.

stupid how these men don't take no as an answer. how they presume standing here is an invitation for something else.

before he's able to grab your wrist, a palm swats his hand away.

“excuse me,” zhongli drawls. “you're getting a little too comfortable.”

he wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, against your collar bone. igniting a red blush on your cheeks.

of course he's here to save you.

though, you still want to beat the douchebags up for continuing to hit on you after refusing them.

the man hisses in response, “ouch! shit hurt!”

scowling, zhongli shoots a hostile glare. “my apologies. foolish men daring to touch them puts me in a sour mood.” he gently pulls you, before adding. “be careful. try not to upset me.”

if you know what's good for you, he thinks.

and the irritated man whisks you off somewhere else. gone from the crowded room and away from the vulgar folks you go.

you sense his displeasure, as it radiates his whole body. but you're half-worried, half-giddy.

yes, he's mad. but he’s mad because of you.

“...you're upset.” you hint.

zhongli hums in agreement.

tugging his hand loosely in yours, you ask, “...so what's wrong?”

his thumb brushes your palm in soothing circles before pulling your hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

“darling,” he mumurs. “you don’t know half of the things you do to me.”

alhaitham: the designated-chauffeur

amongst a group of drunkards, there always has to be one sober person who picks up everyone else’s shit.

and unwillingly, alhaitham becomes the appointed chauffeur.

a funny circumstance really.

because: one, he never came to the party in the first place; and two, he meets up with your plastered crowd by pure chance.

and he's certainly surprised to see you.

since you told him the night before that you weren't going, at all.

your heartbeat quickens in anticipation.

i mean, why wouldn't your heart beat like it's running seventy miles an hour? your long-time crush from college (you both take the same classes) suddenly appears out of nowhere to save the group from certain despair (passing out on the sidewalk).

and upon considering he now knows you lied, your heart beats even faster.

“alhaitham, i can explain!” you sputter. “i thought i wasn't going either but—”

tighnari decides it's a great idea to intrude on your speech by gagging his life out on the pavement.

but you totally understand.

cyno succeeded at creating the nastiest concoction of juices and alcohol you've ever tasted— you heave just thinking about it.

“—but first... i think we (you, cyno, and the almost-hurling man),” you continue “need a ride home.”

as he cares about your welfare, and is the most responsible person in the group, he agrees.

but before you can get into the back of his four-seater car, he pulls front-seat car door open. “after you,” he says.

you gulp.

he's mad, alright.

after he drops off the two other intoxicated people in the car, he drives towards your apartment.

your eyes glance at his figure, trying to perceive his mood.

is he still mad? did he feel left out?

is it because you lied?

you couldn't tell.

the deafening silence is killing you. so you put on a brave face and apologize.

“i'm sorry, okay?” you mumble. “i wasn't planning to go but tighnari—don't look at me like that— you, of all people, know he can't hold his liquor.”

“oh? that's it?” he prods, steering the wheel to the right of an intersection.

you huff. “yes, that's it.”

a pause.

“you're a terrible liar.”

you grumble in frustration.

yes, he can see right through your lies. the point is, you've never been a good deceiver. so you curse the alcohol for making your inability to lie more obvious than usual.

thus, you explain the reason why you came to the party: a secret surprise planning session for alhaitham's birthday.

not so surprising now, is it? you remark. his fault for persuading you to spill the beans.

now, you feel guilty. and because you’re guilty, you get grumpy.

and because you’re grumpy, your eyes tear up in frustration.

alhaitham hears your sniffling and sends quick side-glances at you. “are you crying?” he asks.

“no,” you lie.

you blame your weakened emotional state on your weak alcohol tolerance. if you would’ve known he’d show up, you’d be as sober as a judge.

god, you’re absolutely going to embarrassed in the morning.

yet, something pulls on the breaks in your mind.

alhaitham parks the car in front of your garage, and you see the colors of your apartment through glossy eyes.

“please don't lie,” he reaches for your face and places his thumbs below your eyes. sighing, he wipes the fallen tears from your cheeks. “forgive me. i'm not mad, and i didn't mean to ruin the surprise.”

you choke a sob in response.

but, you're too busy tearing up to see how tenderly he looks at you.

with eyes full of longing, eagerness, and want.

“i hate seeing you so upset,” alhaitham cooes. “take a deep breath, sweetheart. you'll be okay.”

thank you so much for reading! ♡

feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful!

i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

[handsonurknees]

last kiss

din djarin x gn!reader

a/n: just a little preface, i am not a star wars expert i literally watched mando because of pedro and that’s it (don’t kill me) but sorry if anything is inaccurate! also thank you for all of the love on my first post!

(i did not proofread this so i’m sorry if there’s any mistakes)

warnings: mentions of graphic injuries, angst, hurt/no comfort because i’m evil, main character death (yikes)

wc: 1.8k

“let’s go!” you hear cara yell at you, her voice hoarse from shouting over shots and the fire burning just some feet away. your eyes flickered from her and your friends to the injured mandolorian sat against the flipped booth. when she realized what you were thinking, even more panic creeped into her face. “no, no. you can’t. he’ll be okay. we need to go!” she pleads, but your eyes never leave the beskar-clad man. you hear him grunt through the voice modulator and you flinch. you can’t leave him, he can’t die not knowing how you feel.

“she’s right. go, i’ll be alright.” he offers, unconvincingly. you feel tears well up behind your eyes, fighting them back before turning back to the group.

“go. you all go and both of us will catch up. IG, give me the bacta spray, i can do this. i used to be a trained medic.” cara sighs at your attempt at a deal, but clearly worried about running out of time, she turns to the droid beside her.

“do you think the two of them can make it out alive?” she questions.

“more likely than not.” is all the bot says in response. the droid removes a vile from its arm and tosses it to you. “though i should be the one staying, i’m sure she would stay as well anyways. i can confirm her medical history., he is in good hands.” sweat pours down your back due to the warmth of the fire as cara looks at you and the mandolorian, and she realizes deep down she won’t be able to change your mind. you almost think you see a glisten in her eye and a small smile directed at you, but that’s just before she turns around and crawls through the grate as fast as possible, the child in her arms. she won’t say goodbye because this isn’t goodbye. she’ll see the two of you again in only a matter of minutes. you quickly turn to mando, hovering with worry over him.

“i didn’t know you were a medic.” he drowsily says, the effects of his injuries settling in as you begin to move with more haste.

“yes mando. you forget i had a life before i met you.” you respond, swallowing quickly as you uncap the spray. he laughs, and you smile. it’s been a while since you’ve heard him laugh, and even longer since it’s been you who made him laugh. “stay with me, alright? talk to me.” you say like routine, all of your knowledge flooding back to you from when you first learned how to deal with a patient drifting in-and-out of consciousness.

“why did you stay? i told you to go.” he asks genuinely. “i was fine here, peaceful. i’ve always thought that if i were to die i would want to die a warrior’s death.” he continues, voice wavering occasionally. your heart lurches at the idea of him knowing the really reason why you stayed. once the mist is all set up, you look at him, searching for his eyes under his visor.

“you are not dying tonight, mando. that’s why i stayed” you respond, and while it’s not technically a lie, you still feel guilty. that’s when your breath suddenly stops, realizing what you have to do next.

“w-whats wrong?” he questions your hesitation. when you look down at the bacta spray and don’t meet his eyes again, the air shifts in a way that sends shivers down your spine, even while the sweltering heat just feet away from you tickles your face.

“i have to do it to save you.” you whisper, still looking at the spray. “you won’t live much longer if we don’t do it now.” your voice getting hung up on the last word. you both know this is the last chance. part of you screams internally, baffled by how he’s even considering the possibility of not getting the spray. that part burns with white, hot, boiling rage, wondering if you were just going to give up, why did i stay for you? you don’t even ask me to stay and i did. how can you make me watch you die? but before you are able to voice any of this aloud, a gloved hand meets yours and shakily leading you the side of his helmet. “are you sure?” you ask a final time. even though every bone in your body aches to rip that helmet off the second the metal touches your fingers.

“don’t make me s-second guess myself.” he answers dryly. you just nod and carefully remove the helmet with a gentle hiss. slowly revealing the features you’ve been trying to piece together in your brain for months. in the amber glow of the room, you wish to memorize his eyes and his nose and his lips and his cheeks. but instead of studying every ridge and line in his face like you’ve always dreamed of doing, you imagine his face as one you’ve seen one million times. you don’t even flinch when big brown eyes meet yours. as soon as the helmet is off, your hands work quickly. you quickly lift the spray to his head and administer it. a breath escapes you that you hadn’t even know you were holding in. he’s okay. he’s okay is all you can think, the feeling overwhelming you so much that you don’t hear the heavy footfalls behind you, or mando’s failed attempts to shove you out of the way and shouts of ‘get down!’

‘he’s okay’ is all you can think, even when you’re shot by a stormtrooper who wasn’t killed in the shootout. luckily, by you crouched in front of the mandolorian, you blocked him from the view of the trooper. mando instinctively grabbed his blaster and shot a perfect hit into the the gap of the trooper’s armor between his neck and his head. the trooper falls limply to the ground, but all you can focus on is the pain radiating from the new hole in your back. your ears ring and something in you calls out. something that made you suddenly understand what mando meant about being peaceful with dying a warrior’s death. in a strange moment, the two of you are transported back to only moments before, but this time, with the roles reversed.

“dank farrik!” he curses, searching your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly. your knees feel weak, giving out in your current squat above the armored man. you fall flush against his chest, eliciting a hoarse cough. your hands press firmly into his chest, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. in any other situation, your mind would be completely foggy due to the proximity between you two, but somehow what you want to say is completely clear. he swallows, holding a firm hand over your wound, frantically looking around the room, despite knowing it’s far too late.

“you know, this is not how i expected this to end.” you joke weakly, woozy from the pain. the mandolorian pants, his face drowning in concern at your state. you set a hand on his face, his scruff scratching your palm pleasantly. “it’s alright. this way-“ you wince “you won’t have broken your creed. no living thing will have seen you.” you chuckle, which turns into a cough, followed by the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. he just sits speechless, words failing him. there’s so much he wishes he could say, but shock keeps his mouth shut. you feel the familiar feeling of tears for the umpteenth time that day. your thumb grazes his cheekbone, and he just watches as you fight this losing battle. sadness swells in his heart, a hurt that hasn’t hit him in years. for a person, that is. “i love you.” and you’re unsure if it’s the adrenaline or if it’s your sort of last words, but he snaps back into reality and brings his focus back to you.

“what?” he attempts to confirm, even though he heard you the first time.

“please don’t. i just-“ your tears fall down your face numbly, in steady streams. “i just need you to know that i love you. before i die. i need you to know the real reason i couldn’t leave you behind.” your words stumble out of your mouth quickly, but you know if you don’t say them now, you’ll never have the chance to. his leather covered hands move to hold on to both sides of your face, and he starts to quietly laugh. “what?” you ask, confused.

“i cannot believe that you are telling me this now. this was not supposed to go this way. everything was supposed to be different-“ he continues to dryly laugh “you weren’t supposed to die before i could even-“ he’s cut off by the startling reminder that the room around you that was once just taken up by the warmth of fire feet and feet away from you, is now engulfed in flames. smoke finally begins to fill both of your lungs and the ashes make mando’s eyes water (or at least that’s what he tells himself it is.)

“go. go now. please go find them.” he feels a weight on his shoulders, pulling him into the ground beneath him, holding him in place. he can’t leave you. you stayed for him, he has to stay for you. but his eyes flicker to the grate and how the fire is getting increasingly close to blocking his path. he knows your right, he knows he should go. “it’s okay. it’s okay.” you assure him “just don’t forget me, okay?” and he has to stop himself from guffawing. how in the world could he forget about you? he just breathes shakily, grabbing his helmet.

“i have thought of you every second while we were together, and i will think about you every second we are apart.” he admits with a sort of finality that scorches you. this is the end. in a desperate burst of energy, you slam your lips into his, reveling in every last second. you want to die with his lips being the last thing you feel. not the pain of your wound, not the pain of him leaving, just him. he kisses you back clumsily, making it obvious to you that this is his first kiss. selfishly, you hold on for just a moment longer, then letting him go, letting your hand trace his face one for time before he gets up.

“and for what it’s worth, i love you too.” he says, turning away in a way that shatters your heart. still, even while the live of your life leaves you in the flames, even while your back lets out one final wave of pain, even while taking your last breath, all you can think is;

he’s okay.

[bcbdrums]

Persuasion

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

A/N: Monthly OTP prompt fills from this list for Spirit and Stein, because I cannot stop writing about them. I'm happy to hear recommendations each month for which prompt to write next. This month's chosen prompt: 1. First Kiss Shamelessly inspired by the fanfic "Feeling Needed" by NothingSoDivine. (@asymmetryestablished) Wrote this all in one evening while half asleep, straight through, no edits or even proofread (yikes oh well). And placeholder title is...a placeholder, if you have a better one, give it to me! And it was still January in my timezone, this still counts! Enjoy some academy babies.

Persuasion

Persuasion

Stein straightened from his lean against the wall at the corner of the courtyard when he realized he'd been crossing his arms. Spying on his weapon was bad enough without making it too obvious that he disapproved of his activities when the older teen would inevitably wander his way.

Spirit was currently occupied with another weapon from their class, nearer to Stein's age if he was remembering correctly. Her hair was blonde and caught the sun in the way that one couldn't help but look, and Stein had to admit that its radiance even outshone the heartblood red of Spirit's. Her eyelashes were dark like her leather jacket and mini-skirt, and the red of her lips matched the soft, low-cut shirt she wore that was just visible through the open front of the jacket.

Spirit was clearly enthralled by her appearance, but the only thing Stein found truly of note was the cigarette that dangled precariously from the girl's lips as she laughed at whatever Spirit was saying. Stein had watched her skill three times at keeping the small stick in its proper place when she flashed her teeth, and he was starting to wonder if it had anti-gravitational properties.

Spirit abruptly straightened, and Stein unthinkingly did the same, the older teen's posture putting him on alert. Some form of goodbye was about to take place, and then Stein would have his weapon back until the next time a member of the curvier sex caught his eye. Which was more and more frequent as of late.

But then the girl did something that caused Stein to startle forward a step, his eyes widening on the pair. She took a long drag from her cigarette, and then held it away from her as she set her other hand on Spirit's shoulder and rose up on her toes. Spirit's fingers hovered near her waist when her mouth found his, and Stein watched the girl's lips part, surround Spirit's, and his eyes go wide before closing in reaction to whatever appealed about the physicality of the moment.

But it was more than a kiss, as Stein watched the girl finally pull away with a smirk. Spirit blinked, looking surprised, and then slowly blew the smoke out from between his lips, watching it curl upward and away. Stein was also blinking repeatedly, having never conceived of an exchange like that.

He was still processing the mechanics of it when Spirit waved goodbye to his date, the cigarette now between his fingers as she turned to cross the courtyard toward the girls' dormitories. The redhead turned a moment later to head in the path that would lead back to the nicer student apartments. Stein was still too stunned by what he had seen to move to either depart or make greeting, simply watching the weapon approach wearing an expression that was something between dreamy and utterly stunned.

"Oh! Stein!" Spirit exclaimed when he practically bumped into the meister. "What are... Were you watching me?"

"Yes," Stein said simply as he moved to stand at his weapon's side and match his pace.

Spirit sighed shakily. "That's creepy, you know. Most people would be really put off by that."

"I know. So what was this one's name?"

A huff was Spirit's initial response, and then a brightening of his eyes as he frowned down in the meister's direction. Stein's smirk didn't reach his lips, but he knew Spirit could see it in his eyes.

"I know her name! It's..."

Stein did smile then as Spirit floundered, mumbling pieces of words and names to himself as his brow twisted in confusion. Ever since the first time the red-haired weapon had come home and been unable to recall the name of his date, Stein had teased him on the topic.

"Kelly!" Spirit suddenly exclaimed in triumph, and then he brought the gifted cigarette to his lips as he grinned.

"So you smoke now?" Stein asked, noting the slight grimace on the taller teen's face as he experimented with an inhale.

"Trying it out. She gave me the rest of her pack."

Stein was curious too, but less about the cigarettes than what he had witnessed in farewell between the two hormone-driven weapons. His heart pounded as his mind raced ahead to the potential conclusion of what he suddenly realized he wanted, but had absolutely no agency to achieve.

"That looked complicated," he ventured as they walked.

"Hmm?"

Stein watched as Spirit blew the smoke out slowly, his brow pinching slightly as he assessed the experience.

"The way she gave you all that smoke."

"Oh," Spirit said, his cheeks flushing slightly as he stared straight ahead. "Yeah."

"How did you know to open your mouth? Did she blow the smoke in?"

"Uh, well...kinda... You're supposed to open your mouth a bit when kissing," Spirit answered, beginning to look uncomfortable. His stride lengthened and Stein kept pace, having already anticipated his partner's nerves.

"I don't understand how any of it could be pleasurable."

Spirit was looking a bit more perplexed as their steps took them toward their apartment. The sun had begun to set, and its rays shining off of Spirit's hair gave the red locks a vibrant, golden hue. Stein felt an urgency about what he was after as he watched the cigarette burn down below halfway, but he knew he was just as likely to frustrate and anger the weapon by his persistent questioning. But as he didn't think he would ever have it within him to voice the words 'kiss me,' his chosen method would have to suffice.

"Doesn't it trigger the gag reflex to have something put in your mouth?"

Spirit's brow furrowed. They had just reached the entry of the apartment complex, and the weapon had pushed through the first set of double-doors into the security vestibule.

"And doesn't the smoke burn?" Stein continued, trying to keep any cynicism out of his tone. He knew that as soon as the weapon had an escape into his bedroom, he'd have lost his chance. But it was probably a futile effort to begin with. There wasn't any type of psychology Stein could use to make his weapon understand his desire without giving away too much, and he was certain beyond a doubt that Spirit Albarn had never entertained the idea of kissing a boy.

The weapon had been repeatedly silent in response, and Stein's mind was racing for another leading question so anxiously that he hadn't noticed Spirit had stopped walking until the redhead turned to face him. Stein's thoughts slowed at the look on his weapon's face, regarding him with nervous resignation.

"You want to try it, don't you."

Stein processed Spirit's tone before the actual words, his voice low and the words breathy as he seemed to sigh them out. Stein hadn't anticipated success, and blood was suddenly hammering in his ears as the teal of the weapon's eyes remained fixed on his, awaiting a response.

A curt nod was the most Stein could manage as he attempted to swallow the lump that was suddenly in his throat. Spirit's brow rose in curiosity, and Stein hoped that whatever was written on his face was less than the panic that had suddenly swept his entire being.

Spirit sighed again. "I'd say find someone else for your experiments, but...I know how that would turn out."

Spirit glanced from left to right through the glass doors, and then lifted the cigarette to his lips and inhaled long and slow.

Stein suddenly realized that this was no longer a barely-formed idea in his mind, but it was actually happening. Protests and questions rushed across his brain half-formed, none able to be spoken as the words wouldn't come together. He wanted to tell Spirit to wait, to ask how to begin. But every thought fled when the weapon's fingers rested feather-light on his cheek, his pinky finger under Stein's jaw and pulling slightly to tilt his face upward.

Spirit took a step closer, and then leaned down. Stein was certain his eyes were wide with the fright he suddenly felt as they darted between Spirit's half-lidded teal ones and the approach of lips. But the weapon had committed to the action, and in the moment Stein resolved he couldn't back down, Spirit's mouth met his.

The touch was hot like fire, and soft like nothing Stein had ever felt. He wanted to pull away, yet he wanted to fall into the warmth that radiated off his partner and seemed to be welcoming him into safety. His skin was tingling all over as if it was more than his lips Spirit was touching, and a peace he'd never known began to fall over him, slowly offering relief like shelter from a storm.

Stein was about to close his eyes and surrender to the sensations that were beginning to overwhelm him, but then unfocused in front of him, Spirit's eyes opened. In a rush, he remembered the purpose of badgering his weapon into intimacy, and then cautiously let the tension he'd unknowingly put into his jaw fall slack. Spirit's fingers became more firm against his cheek, and then his lips were sealing gently over the slight parting of Stein's. The pressure of Spirit's lips against his own sent a fresh rush of heat across his senses, and then the smoke poured hot into his mouth, pooled across his tongue and hit high in the back of his throat.

It wasn't an immediate pleasure, and he pinched his eyes closed as he fought against the instinct to gag. But then he felt a different type of rush as the drug entered his system, bringing an artificial lightness that he couldn't decide in the moment if he cared for or not. Especially not when there were far more interesting sensations, like Spirit's lips beginning to close and pull softly upon his own.

When he felt the weapon pulling away, Stein's fingers found Spirit's elbow in blind pursuit of an anchor, and to his dismay a soft sound like a whimper escaped his throat. He opened his eyes again as Spirit's lips finally left his, a feeling of cold abandonment taking the place of the fire. The redhead's brow twisted in confusion, and Stein just barely had the presence of mind to close his lips to prevent the smoke's escape even as his lungs felt near to bursting from lack of oxygen.

The latter need took over, and Stein felt the sensitive membranes of his nasal passages burn as he blew most of the smoke out through his nose and then let the rest escape his mouth without grace, a few uncontrolled coughs following. His grip on Spirit's elbow tightened, and the redhead gave a single hum of a laugh as he smiled and let his hand fall to rest on Stein's shoulder.

"What do you think?" Spirit asked quietly.

Stein's head was reeling, and beyond the fixed point of Spirit's bright eyes and hair it felt like the room was sat upon a roiling ocean. He stared up at Spirit as he willed his senses back to calm, as he tried to catch his breath and bring his heart rate back to human norms. He blinked against reflexive tears as the smoke somehow stung his eyes, and another cough was the only response he was able to manage.

Spirit made another humming sound like a laugh, and his gaze softened even more.

"You'll probably need more experience before you know if you like it or not."

Whether the implication was deliberate or accidental, Stein knew the obvious interpretation had reached his eyes for the way Spirit's own widened and stared back at him, his skin suddenly flushing pink. Stein was sure his own pale cheeks were, for once, equally awash with color.

"Uh... I mean..." Spirit said stumbling, his breaths quickening.

"So..." a deep voice sounded from the doorway.

The sound of the new presence intruding upon the world Stein was still spinning within wasn't quite startling enough to bring his senses back to earth, but it caused Spirit to jump and back away from Stein as if he'd been struck by lightning. And for the heat still prickling soft over his lips, Stein wasn't so sure he hadn't been.

"Sid!" Spirit cried, voice high with panic. "What, uh...uh... D-Don't sneak up on people like that!"

"So..." the younger teen repeated, "if anybody asks me, you two weren't just—"

"No!" Spirit fairly shrieked, his voice going high.

"And you're not smoking on Academy property."

Stein suddenly found the smoldering butt of the cigarette pushed between his fingers as Spirit sputtered something else in protest that Stein didn't bother listening to. He was focused on the flush over Spirit's cheeks and the peace that seemed to have wrapped itself around him like a blanket—a feeling he was determined to hold on to for as long as it would stay.

Sid walked past them and into the building and Spirit followed, babbling his frustrations all the while. Stein trailed just a step behind, watching the red of Spirit's hair as they continued the journey to their apartment.

He brought the cigarette up and took a tentative inhale, leaving his fingers against his lips. If anyone asked, he wasn't trying to hold that tingling sensation as long as possible. He wasn't trying to memorize the way Spirit's mouth had shaped itself to his.

And he definitely wasn't planning on further experiments.

[spenzitz]

TURN IT DOWN

jouno doesn't like loud music. jouno x gn!reader, pre-established relationship, suggestive, thinly proofread, we die like odasaku,

a/n ~ yikes, a little uh, steamy for me huh? words~676

while cleaning up from dinner, you decide to play some music to fill the deafening silence filling your apartment. it'd been a little bit since you sent jouno to shower while you washed dishes. anytime you have monotonous tasks to do around the house, you play music to make the time go by quicker. you didn't even think about how jouno might react.

it takes less than 20 seconds of the music playing through your tv speakers for him to speak up.

"y/n, could you turn that down, hun?!" jouno shouts in a sharp tone from the bathroom, trying to dry himself off from his shower. unfortunately for him, you don't have his sensitive hearing. you don't hear him.

jouno has no idea whether you heard him or not. usually when you talked to him or saw him, your heart rate, blood pressure, stress level, or at least something would change. but how was he supposed to hear your body functions over whatever the hell this was?

he continues to pat himself dry and just hopes you heard him. but when the music continued for almost an entire minute after his plea, he figures you, in fact, did not hear him. with a defeated sigh, he decided to take the situation into his own hands.

you're lost in your own world, almost done with the dishes and enjoying your music. enjoying the music so much, that you don't even hear jouno leave the bathroom.

suddenly, your music stops. you pause with the music and put down the dish you were drying before turning around to go start it up again. but when you turn around, you see jouno with the remote in his hand, pointing toward to tv. the tv was off now, but that was the least of your concerns. jouno was still dripping wet, water droplets cascading down his slim silhouette. your eyes focused on a drop of water as it dropped from his red tips to his collar bones and down his chest, only looking away when it gets caught by the thin towel loosely tied around his waist.

he had originally planned on just turning off the tv and going back to pouting in the bathroom, but after the reaction he got from your body, there was no way he was stopping before he could tease you a little.

he puts the remote down and walks over to your frozen figure putting on a slight frown to really sell it. only then does it finally click with you. it doesn't help that the speakers were pointed towards the bathroom door either, you thought.

jouno can sense the remorse travel through your body as it hits you. it was an honest mistake; he'll be nice.

maintaining his pissed scowl, he makes his way over to you and grabs your wrists before pinning them to the counter behind you. he gets in your face, pressing his nakedbody right up against yours.

your body is going crazy. jouno was completely flooded by you, the only thing he liked messing with his senses. all he could hear now was your blood rushing and your heart pumping. the thin towel did no favors for his current excitement.

jouno slowly leans forward, his lips just barely grazing yours, and whispers, "if your music is so loud that you can't hear me, don't you think you might need to turn it down, dear?"

as he speaks, drops of water fall onto your face and roll down your cheeks. it does nothing to cool your flushed face.

just as fast as he invades your personal space, he leaves it. he removes his hands from you and steps back, turning to face your bedroom. he moves his right hand to the towel hanging on his hip to tighten it as he walks away.

"now, would you hurry up already, dear? i think we're both exhausted, let's get to bed."

you take a moment to ground yourself before joining him in your bedroom. he always enjoyed riling you up like this...

yikes yikes yikes

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