#was gone over fall break when we were supposed to meet

[kaladinstormsblessed]

every day i get closer to dropping out of grad school

[giuliettagaltieri]

His Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Featherless birds fall with a splat

Warning: Angst, cursing

Word Count: 4532

Part 1 • Part 2

You aren’t exactly certain how you’d feel with Rafe walking out on you like that. 

Partly, you were glad that you somehow managed to face him without breaking but the way his eyes bore on you, it was just awful, like you were physically causing him pain.

And perhaps you were. 

JJ saw how your mood has switched after you got your drinks.  Your eyes were all blank and you were spacing out.  He made the decision for you both to head back and meet with your other friends. 

You are sitting with your girlfriends, and JJ decided to join you for the rest of the night.  He was entertaining everybody with his overly exaggerated wild stories, trying to get you to focus on him, but your eyes are wandering on a certain someone.

Rafe was gulping down beer, cup after cup.  It was too much, even for him.

You understand he’s got an extremely high alcohol tolerance but this is just sad to look at.  His face was all red and his shirt was clinging to his back, soaked with sweat.

“You know, I really thought I could finally catch your attention with Cameron all gone.”  JJ suddenly leans on the sofa next to you.  You sigh, giving a quick smile without looking at him.  “But I guess it was stupid of me to swoop in when you are literally in love with him.”

Pursing your lips together, you look away from Rafe to glance at the man beside you.  JJ was looking sullen but a trace of smirk is still on his lips, never really looking utterly hopeless.  Sometimes you wonder how he was able to master such a carefree façade. 

“I really had fun hanging out with you.”  You say sadly.  “You’re a good friend.”

He scrunches his face.  “Good friend.  Yeah.”

“JJ, come on.”  You laugh at his blatant display of dislike at being called a “friend” but he breaks into a smile.  “I really enjoyed being with you.  It’s just I don’t…It’s too soon and Rafe-”

“I know.”  He cuts you off, his eyes wandering to the man.  “He looks like shit.”  He mutters and you look over to see just in time Rafe doubling over, looking like he is seconds away from ruining the carpet.

Your back immediately leaves the sofa and you sit up straighter, ready to move whenever Rafe needs you.

“Y/N, he’s not a baby.  Let him take care of himself.”  JJ chuckles, making you bite your lip, still anxiously watching. 

Rafe looks like he’s about to collapse, he was clutching his head and grimacing in pain.  Soon enough, he was shoving people away and heading to the bathroom.

“I don’t know, J.  I haven’t seen him that drunk since…”  You squint at Rafe’ direction in the dark, trying to find a memory to match.  “I haven’t seen him that drunk.”

JJ’s brows slowly rise.  “Really?  Not even when his father found out he did drugs?”

You shake your head.  “No, not even then.”  You slowly rise from the couch and JJ lets you go. 

“Well, I suppose he can’t be left alone, can he?”  JJ smiles somberly and you return it apologetically, still thankful that he’s supporting you right now.

Your girlfriends however were not so keen on the idea.

“Y/N, where do you think you’re going?” 

“Ladies.”  JJ starts, throwing you a wink.  “Have I ever told you about that time we fought actual gators?”

You take your time, heading to the bathroom.  Your usual caregiver spirit when Rafe is in need has been dampened and you’re not sure she’s making a recovery soon.

The music gets muffled the deeper you go into the dark hallway.  The entire house is still buzzing from the music of course but you no longer feel like the speaker’s up your eardrums.  And with every step you take, the more you hear.  You are careful where you step, making sure your feet don’t step on any creaky floorboards.

You stand there, face to face with the bathroom door, hearing Rafe being absolutely wasted.  And is he crying?  You bite on your knuckle, brows meeting just a little as you try to listen.

Quietly, you twist the knob open.  He was retching, big arms hugging the tiny toilet, his head almost all the way in.  You stand there, watching his shoulders shake.  His sobs sounded almost hysterical, ripping from his throat.

What has happened to you, Rafe?

“Rafe?”  You gently call his name and he turns to you.  His hand absentmindedly tried to flush the contents of the toilet, missing it multiple times.  You watch him sag, his entire body sitting on his ankles as he looks up to you helplessly.

“Hey.”  He drawls.  “Wha... wha' are you doin' here?”  He asks casually in a coarse voice he got after barfing his guts out.  His heavy-lidded eyes look up at you, watching you hesitantly walk towards him.  “Shouldn’t be here.”  He shakes his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Rafe.”  You say his name so gently, he closes his eyes.  He’d pay just to hear you say his name again and again.  “Are you alright?”  You ask and he looks up at you dumbly, mouth slightly parted before nodding slowly.

“Yes.”

You fish out your own handkerchief and run the tap over it, just enough to dampen the fabric.  “You don’t look like you’re alright.”  You smile, a hint of teasing on your voice and he scoffs.

“Why ask when you don’…don’t believe me anyway?”  He gestured stupidly with his hand and he stills when you grab the said hand.  He looks up at you as you wipe the sick off his arm.

“You drank too much.”  You mumble as you start to step closer to him, your hand cupping his cheek to wipe at the corner of his lips.

“No, shit.”  He wanted to say but the words are stuck on his throat as he just stared at you, taking care of him, touching him, just looking at him again.  He drops his hands and his limp fingers rest on the cold bathroom floor.  He is feeling too much, how your ankles brush on his thighs, the warmth of your fingers, and the soft dampness of the fabric gliding on his chin.

Have you always been like this to him?

Rafe wonders if he just sat still while you tended to him before, would he have this sight of you all those times.  Was he so stupid he missed all opportunities to look at you like this?

“Come back.”

You pause.  “What?”

He shakes his head before looking at the pinstriped polo you are wearing.  His brows creased, teeth clenching in annoyance as he pinched the fabric.  “This…this is mine.  You’re wearin’ MY clothes while you’re kissin’ other guys!”  He fumes, hands clumsily tugging at your clothes that your knees almost buckle, your hand finding purchase on his shoulder so as to not fall.  “That’s fucking un…unacceptable!  You like ME!  You can’t go ‘round kissin’ other guys when y’ like me!”  He suddenly yells and your eye twitches.

Your finger jabs at his chest.  “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s glassy eyes widen as his breath gets caught in his throat.  Did you just…did you just curse at him?

“Fuck you, Rafe!”  You repeat in annoyance.  Blood boiling within seconds as you angrily run a hand on your hair, scoffing at the sheer audacity of this man to say those things to you. 

You glare at him again and he actually flinches.  “Don’t tell me what to do.  You have no right to decide for me.”  You angrily strip off the pinstriped polo, his head following your wild motion before you crumple it in a ball.  “This is your polo?”  You raise it and he nods hesitantly, still in shock at your outburst.  “Here!”  You throw it at his face and you watch it cover his head, his hands are sluggish as he slowly pulls it off. 

You’re heaving in frustration both hands on your hips as you look at his crestfallen face, bunching the fabric in his large hands.

“Then I can go kiss other guys now, huh?”  You say out of anger and you watch his shoulders sag as he brings his hands to the floor again, fingers twisting the fabric.

He looked absolutely wrecked and your heart starts to feel heavy again.  You cross your arms, leaning on the wall as you watch him stare at the floor.

“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to kiss other guys?  You made it clear that you don’t like me.”  His head shoots up when you say that.  “I’m not waiting for you forever.”

Rafe presses the heel of his palms against his eyes before he looks at you in agony, face all red, his bottom lip jutting out just the slightest.

“Y/N, please.”  He moves to you, still on his knees as he loosely wraps an arm around your thighs.  You looked up at the ceiling when he stared up to you desperately.  “’m sorry, please.  Don’t leave me ‘gain, please.”

You attempt to push him off but he hugs your thighs tighter, his head pressing on your stomach.  “Rafe, let go!”

“No!”  He sobbed, his shoulders shaking.  “You’re mine!  You like me! Not sharing you with that…that fucking pogue-”

“Rafe!”

He flinches again but he doesn’t respond, only hugging you impossibly tight.

“You have to let me go.”  You say more calmly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. 

He shakes his head against your stomach.  You lean further against the wall, trusting it to hold you up as you surrender, sighing out your frustration as you rub his back, letting him cry on your stomach.

Perhaps JJ was wrong, about Rafe not being a baby.  You truly feel like you are calming down an overgrown toddler.  A toddler that fed on steroids instead of milk.  His arms are tightly wrapped around you, just allowing you to breathe and aside from that, you can’t do anything else.  Your free hand that didn’t get caught in his trapping hold, tried to soothe him, trying to tell him that you’re there, with him.

You run your fingers through his buzzed hair, feeling the heat and sweat cling on your fingers.

“You’re a mess.”  You mumble, a small smile playing on your lips when his shoulders eventually start to stop shaking.  “You got snot all over my belly, ugh.”

Rafe loosens his arms around you and wipes his nose, his eyes glaring at you for a moment.  You smile at him smugly as he gathers himself.  He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, eyes kept on the polo that he crumpled on his hand like a ball.

“Wanna wash your face?”  You giggle.

He glares at you again but actually does what you told him to and takes the mouthwash you casually hands him.  You nudge him with your shoulder to get him to scoot over so you can wash your handkerchief.  Rafe watches your hands get under the faucet, just calmly watching the water glide over your skin, delicate fingers wringing the fabric that you so gently wiped on his face a while ago.

“’m sorry.”  He slurred as he watched you tidying up.  “Was so stupid.  Sayin’ things that I don’t mean.”  He continues, eyes starting to get desperate as you just rifle through your bag, not even looking at him.  “Sorry for causing you trouble all the time.”  He follows you like a puppy when you move past him to head to the door.  “Please, don’t leave me again.”

You grip the doorknob tightly before it loosens in defeat.  Rafe’s eyes brighten up when you turn to look at him.

“Why do you boys suddenly become the most honest people when you’re drunk?”  You ask exasperatedly, also remembering JJ’s confession on the porch.  “But then again, you could just be spouting nonsense.”  You open the door this time but he puts a hand against it to close it again.

“I’m not.  Please!”  Rafe almost begs, his entire frame caging you against the door, his respect for personal space long forgotten as there’s nothing else in his head but to try and get you to understand, to believe.  His tongue is heavy and his head is murky due to intoxication, which made him all the more frustrated.

You press your lips together, startled eyes boring into him.  You have known that Rafe has an extreme and overwhelming side to him, his entire presence just smothering you in the best ways you can imagine.  But with you trying to hold on to the fragile thread of anger and stability, you decide to push him by his chest.  “Why don’t we uh…grab coffee?  Let you sober up?”

He runs a hand on his face, it’s becoming a habit of his when he’s around you.  “Fine.  But don’t disregard everything I said just because I’m ‘drunk’.  Please.”  He said the last word with emphasis, his eyes offering no bargaining, prompting you to nod.

“Alright.”

Rafe looks into your eyes for a couple more seconds, making you understand that he is not willing to accept a half-assed response and you need to take him seriously.  He slowly backs up, hands shoving into his pockets while you tongue your cheek, hesitantly opening the door for the both of you.

The blasting music thrums in your ear the deeper you get into the party, maneuvering your way in the sea of hormonal teens.  A hand wraps on your wrist and you stop to look who it was.

It was JJ, heaving.  He probably ran the moment he saw you.  “Hold on, you’re leaving?” 

Rafe was quick to pull your hand away from JJ’s hold, immediately squaring up.  His chin was titled in a challenge as he eyed the flowers and bows decorating the band-aid on JJ’s chin.

“Rafe, please.”  You beg, arms circling on his bicep to stop him from doing anything to JJ, who didn’t look the least bit afraid.  In fact, he was looking at Rafe in pure entertainment.  “JJ, I’m sorry.  I’ll just talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“No, you won’t!”  Rafe seethes but you only roll your eyes at him. 

Kissing his teeth, JJ nods.  “Yeah, sure.  Let me know if you need anything.”  He eyes Rafe one more time and smiles at you in his usual relaxed manner.  “I’ll tell your friends you left early.”

When you finally made it out of the crammed up beach house, you closed your eyes at the nipping sea breeze.  You can’t believe you’re leaving the party with the person you have been trying to avoid for weeks.

“Keys.”  You mutter and Rafe hastily digs through his pocket, his hooded eyes blinking as he tries to locate his keys.

Your deadpanned eyes watch him for a few more seconds before he finally passes it to you, along with the pinstriped polo, which you hesitantly take.

He felt weird, having to take the passenger seat, especially when it’s you with him.  Rafe gets in the car, his eyes on you the entire time you drive.  You’re not exactly acknowledging his presence in the car with you, despite his entire body twisted to face you, his head that is leaning back on the chair never turned to any direction but yours.  He didn’t even know you arrived until you were taking off your seatbelt.

Rafe follows you quickly, nearly tripping on his way out.  But he plays it cool, pulling his shirt down when it rode up.  He meets your eyes briefly in embarrassment.  This entire experience is ruining alcohol for him.

Even thinking about the mess he made in the bathroom, with you witnessing, made him want to smash every bottle that will ever grace his eyes again.  That shit’s evil.  Rafe blinks at the brightly lit convenience store, not yet able to process the colors of the different flavors of ramen and chips.  He closes his eyes tightly, nearly driven to overstimulation and seeks out a chair, collapsing on it as he attempts to massage away the bounding pulse on his temple.

He feels you place a hand on his shoulder and the scent of coffee fills his lungs.  Rafe looks at you briefly and the swirling liquid placed in front of him.  You sat yourself on the chair opposite his and your glossed lips wrap on a straw, sipping on your tall cup of slushie.

After muttering a quick thanks, Rafe picks up the coffee, tentatively blowing on it and watching the steam blow off in your direction before taking a sip.

Your cheeks heat up at the groan he lets out when he takes more sips.  His shoulders are slightly hunched and you quietly admire his physique as you continuously slurp, watching his intoxication being masked by caffeine with every gulp he takes. 

Realizing that you’re staring, your eyes slowly shift outside the glass, cheeks all warmed up.  Rafe sets down his coffee and just takes his time to look at you.  He does not know if it’s still the lingering effects of alcohol in his blood or the overly bright lighting in this rundown convenience store, but you look like you’re glowing.

“Y/N.”  He attempts to speak but you shake your head.

“Give it time, please. Coffee doesn’t magically cure intoxication, you know.”  You smile softly to reassure him.

Rafe smiles back before taking another sip.  He watches you turn to the road outside again.  There you were, in front of him again after weeks of not seeing each other, just sipping on sugar and ice as you swung your feet that were clad in babydoll heels, with pretty straps that he always found cute and alluring.  Despite the cozy choice of clothing, you never go without a statement piece.  

He steals another glance at your clothes, along with the pinstriped polo you decided to wear again.  He takes another sip of coffee.  “It looks better on you.”

You look down on your clothes, lips pressing together before giving him a curt smile.  “…Thanks.”

“Sure.”  He nods.  Both of you look at each other for a while, not quite certain what to do with the still tense atmosphere before simultaneously looking away, like a couple for teenager going on a first date, it’s fucking ridiculous.

Time passed with not a single word being uttered between you.  Rafe watches how the coffee stained a line on the cup every time he takes a sip, the liquid now cooled, and your slushie cup was starting to sweat and leave trails of water everytime you move it.  His eyes were starting to focus again and once he was confident in being able to speak without slurring, he cleared his throat to garner your attention.

“Listen.”  He begins but the words lodge themselves in his throat the moment your curious eyes flit to him, perhaps this was a bad idea.  He never knew what to say.  Rafe doesn’t know if he can last one conversation without offending you somehow.  “I know I hurt you.  And I know it wasn’t just that time at the party.”  He presses a knuckle on his lips to gather his thoughts.  “I always take you for granted, when all you ever did was take care of me.”

You cross your arms in an attempt to make yourself feel protected as you lean back, eyes avoiding him.

“Your kindness and efforts.  Your…feelings.  They were so easy to overlook when you gave them to me every single day without fail.”  He tries to reach out to you but stops midway and drops his hands on the table.  “I never knew what I had until you decided to take everything away.”

Your eyes sharpen and he winces at his careless mistake.

“I mean, until I finally succeeded in pushing you away.”  He reworded his sentence, making sure to pin the blame on himself instead of you.  He hated how hurt he made you feel.  He felt like shit.  He never cared when people called him an asshole or a psycho, but after what he did to you, he felt like every label given to him was all real, and this time, it hurt.

He had girls before, and all the wanting he can associate with them is the feeling of fleeting euphoria when they’re under him, that is all.  Rafe never missed anyone, or anything about anyone.  Until you came along.

Rafe found himself in the middle of the night, missing you calling him by his name.  He missed your smile and scent.  His cheeks suddenly go wild red when he remembers the mess he made out of himself when he got your shirt, one you accidentally left in his room, up his nose during those nights when the longing just beats him up.

“I regret everything I said and done.”  He says, trying to get back on track to apologizing.  “And if you want to be my…friend again…”  He takes a deep sigh.  “I’ll do better.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes shyly meeting his, and you uncross your arms slowly.

“You promise?”

Rafe nods quickly, a small smile appearing on his lips as his hand darts out to hold yours.  “Yes, I promise!  Just don’t shut me out again.”

Gently, you shift your hand to wrap around his and he gladly holds yours back securely.

“I’ll try to be less…controlling too.”  You look away.  “I won’t bother you as much and I won’t cling to you in parties or wherever-”

“I thought we’re okay already?”  Rafe was dumbfounded.

“We are.”  You say, equal confusion in your eyes.

“Then why are you still staying away from me after this?”  He asks in frustration.

Your lips part, trying to form words but his statement just muddles everything up.

“I…I just didn’t want you to get fed up again.”  You say quietly and he grabs both your hands this time, pulling them to his chest.

“Baby, I don’t care, just come back to me, alright?”  He says quickly, you don’t think he realized what he called you just now.  “I don’t care if you call me six times a day to argue that raisins do not belong in bread or if you hold my hand in every party we go to.”

The heat in your cheeks slowly travels to your neck.  “Rafe.”

“You can have me drive you around the island when you get hungry at three in the morning.”  He beams in a surge of confidence and affection.  “I’ll let you fix my clothes as it pleases you so much, slap as many hello kitty bandaids on my face as you want.”  He laughs, making you smile too.  “I-I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, just please let’s go back to how we were before, yeah?”  He presses a kiss on your knuckles.  “I don’t want to hear any of this plan you have.  I just want you with me again.”

At this point, there really is nothing you can say and you can only nod.  You are glad that Rafe is satisfied with that response.

After a few more minutes of you catching your breath in silence, you decide to call it a night.  Rafe, now sobered up, decided to drive, and let you enjoy the passenger seat like you always do.

Despite the conversation you had in the convenience store, both of you can’t shake off the feeling that you’re forgetting something.  Like there is something you are purposefully holding back from each other, and it visibly makes you antsy, Rafe more than you.

He taps his finger on the wheel, tugging at the seatbelt every now and then as you continuously shift your eyes from the road and back to the car interior.

When he finally pulls over in front of your gate, neither of you want to move, still waiting for that something to happen.  But as another moment passes, you realize that perhaps it’s time to leave it here for now, to take things slowly, see where it takes you.  But he isn’t sure if he wants that, to see you slip away again, like the finest sand between his fingers.

“Uhm…thanks for the ride.”  You make a move to open the door but Rafe was quick to lock it, making your brows meet in a soft frown.  “Rafe-”

He cuts you off by clumsily pulling his seatbelt off, cupping both your cheeks to smash his lips on yours.  It wasn’t careful nor romantic, just pure unadulterated need and impulse.  You can feel the tremble in each other’s lips, the fear that one of you might pull away, the fear of what comes next, the fear of not having the other’s love returned in the same intensity.

But as your breath mixes, your tears soaking each other’s cheeks, your body slowly melts into each other’s arms.  He was desperate, biting and sucking your lips, everything in his kiss wanted to possess you, making your chest tighten in having everything you ever desired at this moment.

Rafe pulls away abruptly, a thin line of spit still connecting your lips when he looks deep into your eyes.  “Tell me you still love me.”  He begs while he cradles your face.

“Rafe.”  You push him away gently but he presses his forehead against yours, his shoulders shaking. 

“Tell me, please.”  He squeezed his eyes, not knowing what response he would be receiving.  He knows he’d die if you reject him, with his soul open and bared to you in its most vulnerable form.

His eyes slowly open when he feels a soft caress on his arm and you’re smiling at him with your tears cascading down your face.

“I love you.”

It felt like Rafe had winter melting in the palm of his hand, giving birth to spring.  Whatever doubt and fear is replaced with nothing else but sweet sweet warmth.  He is being shrouded with undeniable assurance that made him feel invulnerable yet ironically, impossibly vulnerable.  He had nothing moments ago, and suddenly he got a taste of everything, all at once.  He has you.  Just as you have him.

He laughs and kisses you breathlessly.  “God, Y/N, I love you.  I love you, I love you.”  He litters your face with wet kisses, making you laugh, before he kisses your lips once more, his teeth nibbling on your kiss-swollen lip.  “Mmmh, did you get a new lip balm?”

You gently pry his hands from your face as you continue to laugh.  He meets your eyes with sheer adoration, head still trying to wrap around the fact that you are his girl.  His girl.  His girl.

God, he’d gladly die if you told him to, just to prove his dedication. 

“I love you.”  He whispers gently, intimately, vulnerably.

And with equal passion, you reply, “I love you too.”

Rafe has never felt this kind of happiness in his life, not once.  You are his natural high, the ecstasy he’s been chasing.  And now that he has you in his arms, he’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you there with him.

Not Your Girl • Not Her Man

[hellodropbear]

it's time.

mapi leon x child

new story is here!

as always, hope you enjoy this (new) story and please let me know what you think!

for some reason i only ever get inspiration during uni semester! which is great because i study a really demanding degree and i just had 6 weeks off in which i wrote nothing and now i am procrastinating my physiology modules and prehab exercises :) :)

enjoy :)

~~~~~~

There was a knock on the door.

"Mapi!" Alexia's voice was distinct, and the girl recognised it immediately. She knocked again. "Open the door!"

She looked over at the figure on the sofa, eyes closed, hand resting on the head of the little black cat.

She looked over at the door, where she knew her Ale was standing, waiting for the door to open.

She toddled over to the door, almost losing her balance as she stepped up onto the step by the door and unlocking the door, her hands immediately clinging onto the step's handle to stabilise her small body.

The door opened slowly, and the brunette looked confused for a moment before looking down at the unstable toddler.

"Isabel, mi chica!" Alexia's arms were strong and easily scooped the toddler up and onto her hip. "What are you doing at the door?"

"Hola, Ale!" She planted a sloppy kiss on the woman's cheek, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"Where is Mami?"

"Sleeping! Bagheera." She pointed over to where her mother was splayed across the sofa cushions, the black cat also snoozing away under Mapi's hand. 

"Are you supposed to be napping, Isa?" Alexia's hand moved to the toddler's curly hair, stroking it back and out of her face.

"Not sleepy." She yawned into Alexia's neck, and the brunette woman chuckled.

"Not sleepy?" She moved to sit beside where Mapi was napping, beginning to repeatedly poke her leg.

"Is, stop, Mami is sleeping." The blonde murmured groggily, shifting as she stirred from her sleep. 

Alexia chuckled, her hand retreating back into her lap. 

"Time to wake up, Mapi."

The blonde's eyes opened slowly, her hand coming up to her face as she slowly figured out that it was Alexia sitting beside her. 

"Ale? What are you doing here?"

The older Spaniard shook her head, looking back at the toddler in her arms. 

"Your Mami is so silly sometimes, Isabel! So silly!" She tickled her sides, and the baby squealed in laughter, falling back onto Alexia. "You have to come in today, Jonatan asked me to check in on you because he didn't believe your excuse. We have media, and even if you don't want to be in it, you have to come and meet the new signings. It's time, Mapi."

Mapi groaned, pulling the pillow over the face. 

"Why didn't he believe me? I am clearly sick!" She put her elbow in front of her mouth and coughed into it weakly, looking up at Alexia persuasively. Safe to say she was disappointed by her friend's exasperated eye roll and lack of sympathy.

"You're coming, Mapi. Go get ready and I'll fix up Is to take her too because I presume you haven't organised her Nanny to come?" Mapi shook her head, sighing lightly. "I'll get her ready."

"Ale, please. I really, really don't want to go. Surely it's not time yet?" 

Alexia thought Mapi was going to break down on the spot right then and there, but as quickly as her facial expressions fell, they lifted back up again when the brunette placed her arm around her shoulder. 

"It is, Mapi. You've spent too much time here, you need to get back into it. This one's 14 months now and you've done such a good job." She squeezed Isabel's sides, smiling down at her tiny frame. "But now you have to go back to your other job."

"I've done my training, I've gone to the gym. I just don't think I can start again, Alexia."

"So you want to quit?"

Mapi looked at her in shock, gasping quietly. 

"What? No! I don't want to quit! I love football."

Alexia smiled softly. 

"When better to go back for the first time on a media day, no pressure to perform, nothing. I know you've been training, that you are healthy and have a good level of fitness. What's stopping you from returning to the team environment?"

She sighed, staring straight ahead as her eyes filled with tears, willing them to go away. Adamant that she wouldn't let a single tear fall from her eyes. 

"I'll come. But Ale, this won't be easy for me, you know that. If I want to leave, I want to be able to."

Alexia nodded, standing up from her spot on the couch. 

"Of course, Mapi. I've told you before and I will tell you again, everything you do is at your own pace. Just give it a try, for me. Don't give up before we even get there. Maybe seeing everyone will give you that bit of motivation, you can't tell me it didn't help last time."

Mapi nodded, Alexia was right. 

It's been two months since Mapi saw the rest of the team, right after Isabel's first birthday. It had been a long year of taking care of a tiny baby while also mourning the loss of her best friend. 

The girls loved the baby, finally seeing the girl that they had sent countless gifts to, doting over the adorable one year old who had no idea what heartbreak her mother was going through. 

But what had surprised Mapi was that most of her teammates were more worried about the defender than her child, hugging her tightly and telling her how much they missed her, loved her and were there for her. 

Mapi had cried that night, the realisation that maybe people did care settling on her shoulders, guilt overwhelming her as she registered that she hadn't reached out to a single on of them in a year. 

When she discussed this with Alexia a week later, the brunette had told her to stop being silly. They were a family, apparently. They would always be there for one another. 

~~~~~~

Nerves settled deep in Mapi's stomach as she sat in the back of Alexia's car, staring out at the familiar roads as they drove to the training grounds. Isabel was content in her seat beside her as she babbling away at the streets, Alexia chuckling at her goddaughter. 

When they arrived, Mapi was quick to unclip the baby, walking around to the opposite door to scoop her up into her arms and holding her close as they walked towards the entrance. 

"They said we only have to be there for a couple hours, max. There's a bit of media, they thought it could be a good time to reintroduce you, assuming you want to come back this season. Then we have three new incomings, although one is Irene, who most of us obviously know. The other two are from Scandinavia. Fridolina Rolfo from Sweden and Ingrid Engen from Norway. Fridolina is an attacking midfielder and Ingrid is a central defensive midfielder, both from Wolfsburg..."

Alexia dove deep into an analysis of the two Wolfsburg players that Mapi easily zoned out of, instead focusing on what she was about to do. 

It was weird, walking back into this place after such a long time. A place that used to be like home, she never thought twice about stepping through those doors.

But she could count on her hands the amount of times she had walked into the training campus in the past 18 months, simply preferring to get trained at a private gym or a private field, closer to home and further from the overwhelmingly familiar Barcelona grounds. 

She was expecting to be heckled as soon as they entered, but only Jonatan was in the foyer and he quickly embraced her and pulled her into his office as Alexia turned left to the media room. 

"She is adorable, Mapi."

Jonatan sat down on the sofa in his office, motioning for Mapi to follow him. Mapi smiled down at her baby who was happily fiddling with her toy lion. 

"Thank you."

"Is this it? Are you ready to come back?"

Mapi shrugged lightly. 

"I want to be, but I'm not sure, really. It has been a hard year and I don't know what to do with this one if I train every day, playing games every weekend. She is still only little."

Jonatan nods, hesitating before responding. 

"Everything we do will be at your pace and you have all the support you need. We can find someone to watch her, she can come here or go to your place. We can do anything, you name it. We have all missed you a lot, and I think I speak for the whole team when I say we would be thrilled if you decided to start coming back, becoming fit again."

"I am fit. I have trained a lot, every day. I have rehabbed with the specialists, done their exercises every day, I've been in the gym every day, getting stronger, I go down to the local pitch at least four times a week with the trainer. My fitness is not the problem, it's just me. My brain, I think."

He nods again, understanding written all over his face. 

"We have a psychologist if you want to see her. Apparently she is brilliant."

Mapi shrugs.

"I don't think she would be able to help me. I am just sad. Overwhelmed, maybe. A bit scared, sure. I have no trouble naming my emotions, I just am bad at dealing with them healthily."

It was the truth. Mapi knew what she was feeling but she had no idea how to make it better. Seeing a psychologist wouldn't take away her grief, her fear or her stress, so what was the point?

"I would recommend the psychologist, even if it's just for one session. Everyone who sees her loves her."

She shrugs again. 

"I'll consider it."

They dive into the logistics of returning, as well as how they should tackle the inevitable media storm when she appears on the clubs social media again. Apparently, Alexia suggested just to put them in an interview together to preview the upcoming season. She told the club to not make any sort of deal about the return, in an attempt to make it as seamless as possible. 

Their meeting finished with an agreement, and Jonatan wished the defender luck as she left, heading towards the media room where the rest of the team should be busy. 

"Isabel!" Leila was the first person to notice the duo entering, dropping the paper she held and rushing over to hug Mapi. 

"Y mi Maria. Ale said not to make a big deal out of it, but Mapi, I am so so so happy to see you here again."

She released Mapi from the hug, keeping her hands firmly on the defender's shoulders. 

"I'm proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself too."

Mapi just smiled, setting Isabel down on the floor and watching carefully as she waddled over towards Alexia. She avoided eye contact to prevent herself from becoming emotional, instead flashing a quick smile at Leila, nodding softly. 

"Thanks Leila. It's good to see you, sorry I haven't been the greatest friend recently." Her eyes remained glued to the back of her daughter's head, so she didn't see Leila's entire face and body soften.

"No, no. I should have tried harder. I can't imagine what you were going through."

Truthfully, the fullback and a lot of other teammates carried a substantial guilt over their shoulders, but there was nothing they could do about it anymore.

Not after Alexia had arrived to training raging 9 months ago, telling them they were awful friends, that Mapi was struggling and had received almost no support from any of them.

Just because Mapi asked to be left alone, doesn't mean she actually wanted to be left alone, Alexia had said.

They put in more effort after that, but the damage was done and Mapi still struggled to let anyone but Alexia in.

Isabel, on the other hand, was having a ball as her godmother carried her around the room, introducing her to different people. 

"This is Patri and Pina, Isa, say hello!" 

Isabel giggled, pointing at Patri.

"Patri!" Her hand moved to Pina. "Pina! Hola!" She waved, her hand floppy and a silly smile smacked on her face.

The three footballers smiled at her sincerity, Patri speaking up first. 

"I know who you are! You are adorable, baby Leon, and you look just like your Mami."

Isabel beamed, turning to look up at Alexia. 

"Mi Mami!" 

"Yes, you look just like her, lion cub."

They remained stationed at Patri and Pina for a while, the young striker and her older friend entertaining the baby as she sat mesmerised by their rowdy and outgoing nature, their light banter was something she had rarely been exposed to. 

Mapi on the other hand was shaking as she watched her daughter in Alexia's arms, entirely unable to concentrate on her. Her mind was consumed by the looming thought of her return. The overwhelmingly terrifying return.

She was returned to her mother's arms right before Alexia and Mapi had to go and do media, a soft kiss placed on her head before she was handed off to an excited Leila. 

 The interview, while a good way to ease into it, would undoubtedly create an entire storm in the media and Mapi wasn't sure she wanted to see her life and decisions picked apart, analysed and judged by thousands of people who knew nothing about her and nothing about anything she had been through over the past 15 months. 

Alexia's arm on her back was grounding, guiding her to the correct room and easing the overwhelming worry that surged through her, if only just a little bit. 

"It will be over before you know it. And then you wait a few days, turn off your phone when it is released. You can slowly start coming back to training, and by the time we have to interact with fans, it will have calmed down. I will be right there through it all and so will everyone else in that room."

Mapi was surprised, however, when she sat down in front of the cameras and was briefed about the interview. She was expecting a serious video, previewing the season ahead. Instead, they were doing superlatives, something that Mapi didn't know if she was comfortable with. 

Sure, she's played with this team for years and she knows them all well, but it has been a long time since she's actually played with them. What if things have changed? What if she embarrasses herself. 

"And Mapi, we will release this video in a few days, and hopefully people will take the hint that we aren't making a big deal about your return."

A naive statement that made Mapi want to scoff, but she stopped herself and nodded politely instead. 

But, she did the interview with Alexia, acting as if nothing was wrong and the midfielder couldn't believe that the person beside her was the same person that had practically looked green not 10 minutes ago. 

"Hola! I am Mapi Leon and this is Alexia Putellas! Welcome to superlatives!"

~~~~~~

Completely oblivious to the stress her mother was going through, Isabel was placed in Mapi's cubby as the team got ready for training, completely occupied by the toy lion she was playing with. 

"And who's that, Isabel?"

Leila sat down beside the toddler as soon as she was changed, her socks and boots in her hand as she looked at Isabel. 

"Leon! My lion." 

The defender chuckled, placing her hand on Isabel's head. 

"And you like to play with your lion?"

She nodded, holding the toy out towards Leila, who grabbed it, imitating a lion sound to the child. Isabel squealed with laughter, copying the fullback by imitating a lion herself before pulling the toy back into her arms when Leila passed it over. 

"Leon. Mi Leon." She cuddled the lion tightly before walking it across her leg and down to the floor."

Leila turns her attention away from the toddler to put her shoes and socks on and Isabel took the opportunity to slip down from the cubby, waddling through the changing room with Leila's watchful eye on her. 

She spun around to look at the defender, quickly noticing her raised eyebrows and her playful stern expression. She brought her hand up to her mouth, looking directly at Leila as she giggled mischievously, too distracted to look at where she was going until she bumped right into a pair of legs. 

She spun around immediately, looking up and down at the unfamiliar woman and gave her a smile after assessing that she looked nice enough, brandishing out the lion toy that she was holding. 

The brunette knelt down to her level, smiling softly. 

"Hola!"

Isabel smiled, bringing the toy back towards her. 

"Hola!" She giggled, smiling giddily at the tall woman. 

"What's your name?"

"Isabel!" She shook her lion "Leon, mi leon." She reached out her arms and the Norwegian understood it as a prompt to pick her up, so she scooped the child up into her arms, standing up and walking back towards Leila. 

"My name is Ingrid. It's very nice to meet you!"

Isabel nodded sweetly, pointing over at Leila. 

"Is Leila!" She then pointed over to Patri, then Pina. "Y Patri, y pina. Jenni!"

Ingrid laughed quietly as the child in her arms pointed around the room naming people, but moved over to where Leila was sat, handing over the child. 

"Hola. You are Ingrid?" The fullback smiled politely as Ingrid nodded. "It's good to have you here, welcome to Barca."

The Norwegian smiled. "I am very happy to be here."

The door opened as Leila was about to respond, but Isabel's head whipped around at the sound of her mother's voice, jumping up in the fullback's lap. 

"Mami!" 

Mapi strode across the changing room, picking Isabel up with one arm and bouncing her on her hip. 

"Hola, mi Is." She planted a kiss on her daughter's temple as she laughed, pointing over to Ingrid. 

"Ingrid!" 

"Who?" Mapi followed her daughter's hand, spotting the retreating Norwegian figure. Her hair was thick, Mapi noticed, rich and abundant in the way it fell easily down past her shoulders but the centre back was sure that hair so gorgeous was anything but easy to maintain. 

"Did you meet her?"

Isabel nodded, a smile still on her face. "Held me!"

"She held you?" 

Isabel nodded enthusiastically right as Ingrid turned around, immediately making eye contact with the spanish mother. Mapi was sure that if she didn't have a baby in her arms she would have gone weak at the knees and maybe fallen to the floor. 

Because the first thing she noticed were the piercing green eyes staring right back into her own, and the way they sparkled as soon as her mouth shot up into a large smile. 

Ingrid, the new signing, was possibly the most gorgeous person Mapi had ever laid her eyes on.

Mapi could only smile back as she tried her best to memorise every detail of the Norwegian's face as if she would never see it again, so consumed in her thoughts that she didn't realise that the brunette had been moving closer and closer until she was right in front of her. 

"Is she yours?"

Mapi could only nod, her voice had somehow run away. Ingrid smiled once more at the confirmation and Mapi inhaled slowly, trying to subtly inhale as much of the midfielder's scent as she could. 

"She's adorable, I mean, she looks just like you, really."

Mapi nodded again, hitting herself internally for not being able to form a coherent sentence. 

"I'm Ingrid, I've just signed. From Norway. I play for Wolfsburg." She grimaced. "I mean, I play for Norway. I have signed from Wolfsburg."

Suddenly, Mapi wishes she had paid more attention to Alexia's analysis of their new signings as hey were walking in earlier. Maybe she would have been to prepare herself. 

"I'm Mapi, it's nice to meet you." 

It was a small win, but the sentence was coherent and Mapi was happy. She adjusted Isabel on her hip in order to reach out and shake Ingrid's hand, and the Norwegian smiled and took it. 

Later, when Alexia would tease Mapi about her obvious crush, the centre back would argue that she was being professional, and use the awkward hand shake as proof. 

Ingrid and Mapi stood silently for a moment, the baby becoming increasingly more confused as silence settled upon them, just looking at each other mid hand shake. 

"Mami!" 

They were successfully broken out of the small trance, their eyes both immediately whipping towards the small child. 

"I think I better go." Mapi smiled somewhat apologetically, although she wasn't sure why she felt that small bit of guilt. "I think she missed her nap this morning which means there will be tears in just under an hour so I want to get her to sleep as soon as possible."

"You're not staying for training?" 

The Norwegian seemed confused, although she was aware that the talented centre back had missed a season and a half of football. The reason was unclear to fans and the general public, but had become abundantly clear to Ingrid almost immediately. 

Mapi sighed thoughtfully. 

"Soon. I will be back, I mean. Just not today. Hence the no training kit."

Ingrid nodded, the smile back on her face. 

"I look forward to it. It was nice to meet you!"

"Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Mapi."

It was silent as Alexia and Mapi walked back out to the car. It was like a switch had flicked in Isabel as soon as they left as well, suddenly exhausted in her mother's arms. She was practically asleep when Mapi clipped her into her seat and the two adults were sure she was fast asleep by the time they were on the road. 

"So." Alexia started, a small smirk on her face. Mapi knew exactly where this was going. "Ingrid Engen, huh?"

Mapi rolled her eyes, staring out the window. 

"Ale, please. No."

The brunette shrugged, an amused look on her face as she briefly turned to look at Mapi. 

"I'm just saying. I haven't seen you like that around someone in almost two years."

"Having a child changes you."

It was true. Mapi hadn't seen anyone since she was about two months pregnant. She found it too difficult to explain, sometimes questioning her decisions herself. 

It was a tough decision, choosing to be a surrogate for her best friend, especially as it put her career to the side for an extended period of time. But Luis was a born father, as was his wife, Isabel, had too many health issues to count. The news that she would never be able to carry a baby came with devastation. The news that she couldn't even produce an egg came with heartbreak. 

It was Mapi who offered to be a surrogate for them, her heart slowly ripping apart every time she picked up the phone to a crying Luis as he wished and prayed that he could become a father, wanting it more than anything else.

Initially, they had refused, telling her that she should focus on herself, that she should focus on her career. It had taken a few months to convince them, and by the time they agreed, Mapi knew it was the right decision.

The first two trimesters were easy. She was carrying a small baby, the bump barely visible which made keeping it a secret incredibly easy. She stopped playing games in the middle of the second trimester, and stopped training at the end of it. There was little to no news about her from the club, and fans were left confused when she stopped appearing on the matchday squad list and later as she stopped appearing on their social media altogether. 

To this day, the fans were still confused, because it has almost been two years since their fierce defender was seen in any Barcelona coverage, and she was seldom mentioned in their press.

In the third trimester, Luis and Isabel went on a road trip to Madrid, visiting family.

Two hours after saying goodbye to them, Mapi got the call that there had been an accident. They had both died on the scene and Mapi was left distraught, the baby in her belly only a reminder of the couple that she loved so much, that she would have done anything for. That she did do anything for.

She gave birth a month later, alone in the delivery room as her parents and Alexia stood outside anxiously, concerned for the once boisterous footballer who had barely said three sentences since her best friend died.

"Isabel Luisa." She was decisive as they entered, her eyes red as she cradled the newborn in her arms as her own mother rushed to her side, Alexia standing at the end of the bed.

"I don't know yet whether I will give her my last name or theirs, but she is having their first names. Technically."

Pilar had burst into tears, her hand latching onto her daughters arm and it was clear to Alexia that Mapi was fighting back tears also.

"I have to be strong for her, Ale. She needs a strong Mami."

Alexia softened at her friend's whispered words, nodding quickly before replying.

"She has the strongest Mami. You will be good for her, Maria. And she will be good for you."

The whole thing was too difficult to explain to potential hookups or girlfriends when she was pregnant, and once she was born, Isabel made a great excuse to never go out when Alexia asked. 

Besides, Mapi didn't want to date. She had her hands full with the baby and her other focus was completely on becoming fit again and at some point returning to the game she loves so much. There was no time for a girlfriend on top of that. 

"I'm just saying, she felt the same way. It was obvious." Alexia shrugged, not realising that her words would send Mapi into an unhealthy spiral of guilt and concern.

When the centre back didn't respond, Alexia took it as a cue to change the topic of conversation, so she moved back to the topic of football, something that she could ramble about for hours and Mapi could block out easily. 

"Are you going back to training after this?" 

Mapi interrupted Alexia mid-sentence, clearly not listening to what she was saying at all. 

Alexia nodded. "I have to. I'll make it for the last three hours hopefully. Why?"

Mapi shrugged. 

"I think I want to start back tomorrow."

Alexia's head whipped over to Mapi, slamming on her breaks after almost whipping the car 90 degrees to the right with the sheer force that her entire body moved to face her friend.

"Tomorrow?" 

"Ale! Be careful!"

They both yelled at the same time and Isabel woke up with a start, calling out for Mapi, who sighed deeply, running her hands over her face. 

"Tomorrow, yes." She spoke quietly, her voice a whisper. "I don't know. I have to try at some point and it seems like a good time, in pre season. Do you not think so?"

"No, no. I think that is a great idea. Everyone will be thrilled. Hell, I'm over the moon!" Alexia smiled, pulling over outside the entrance to Mapi's apartment. "I'm proud of you, Mapi. I really am. You should be proud of yourself too."

She leant over the centre console, pulling Mapi into a hug and wiping away her friend's tears when she released her and saw her eyes shining. 

"Luis would be proud too. And so very grateful."

Mapi sniffed, shaking her head. 

"Thanks, Ale. I love you. Thanks for dropping me home and... thanks for everything you've done for me. For us."

"You're my best friend, Maria. No need to thank me."

Mapi smiled, stepping out of the car and closing the door behind her before stepping to the back door and unclipping Isabel from the seat. 

"Mami," Isabel whined, clinging tightly to Mapi's neck as she waved goodbye to Alexia's retreating car and moved towards the front door. 

"I think it's nap time for you, my Is."

~~~~~~

i've written a maybe 13k words of this next story already but most of what's written is rough and needs proof reading. can't promise particularly quick updates because i study full time, have two jobs and also prehab for a knee reconstruction in a couple months so i am pretty busy!

if you have any requests or want to see anything in particular let me know! what I have can be changed and modified easily to suit you guys :)

pls let me know what you think

have a great day :)

[ksywoo]

(not so) secret | m.jh

pairing: idol!myung jaehyun x fem!reader pronouns: none used except one use of "noona" towards reader (sorry I had to) word count: 1.3k genre: secret relationship, reader is friends with bnd and secretly dating jaehyun, sappy fluffy lovely sleepy myungjae, bnd is not as oblivious as they think (except woonbaby) warnings: kissing, reader is called noona once, reader spent the night in jaehyuns dorm but nothing explicit is implied or written note: I finally caved. I adore bnd with my whole being and the desire to write for them finally won.

masterlist

“Jaehyun!” 

You wake up startled by the sound of Taesan calling for Jaehyun outside his door. He knocks on the door and tries opening it, but Jaehyun had the forethought to lock it last night, not wanting the possibility of the boys seeing you in his room. 

Jaehyun groans and buries his face in your neck, despite you trying to sit up.

“Come on, we’ll be late!” Taesan calls, emphasizing his urgency with more knocking.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Jaehyun called back sleepily, but his eyes were closed as he pulled you into his chest. You could hear Taesan walk away, which eased your worry about being caught. 

You laugh sleepily and look up at your boyfriend. “You need to go, baby.” 

He peeks at you through one eye and pouts. “Why?”

“Because you’re the leader,” you coo.

“I’ll hand over the position to Woonhak, then.” 

“You trust the future of the group in Woonhak’s hands?” 

He looks past you as he thinks before frowning. “Maybe Sungho, just to be safe?” 

You shrug with him but kiss his cheek. “Get up.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be begging me to stay here?” he asks, pouting his lip before kissing your nose. “You don’t like me enough?” 

“I like you enough to tell you to go to your meeting. I know if I ask you to stay you will never leave,” you tease as he tries getting comfy again. “Come on, Myung. Part of the agreement of me sleeping over was you promised to be on time to your meeting.”  

He hums with a smile as he finally stands up and starts getting ready. You start getting up too but he looks at you, offended. “Where are you going?” 

“Home? I’ll leave after you guys so they don’t see me.” 

“Oh…” he trails off and turns back to getting ready. 

“What did you have in mind?” you sing, grabbing his waist and hugging him from your seat on his bed. 

“I figured… I mean, I’ll only be gone for a few hours,” he starts softly, not looking at you. “You can… stay here if you want? That way you’re here when I get back and, like, we can go back to sleep or just hang out.” 

You don’t answer for a moment, not wanting to shut him down but worried about several things. “What if one of your managers comes over while you’re gone?” 

He shakes his head. “They won’t. Technically today is supposed to be a day off so they promised to leave us all alone once this meeting is over. That means they also are trying to keep the meeting as short as possible.” 

“Hyung!” Taesan calls again, more impatiently.

“One second!” Jaehyun whines back before looking back at you.

You wait to hear Taesan leave again before whispering. “What if there’s no way for me to escape without being seen later?” 

“Taesan and Woonhak are going shopping this afternoon and they would never miss that. It’ll just be us here.”  

“You sure you won’t be in trouble?” 

He nods quickly. “I promise. Even if a manager did come over, they won't go into our rooms so you’ll be fine staying in here.” 

You smile and he mirrors you. “Okay. I’ll stay.” 

He tackles you down on the bed and cheers softly, keeping in mind that his members are still outside. He peppers your face with kisses as you laugh, pushing him off. 

“Come on, you need to leave before Taesan comes back and breaks down your door.”

“I’ll be back before you know it! Sleep well, baby,” he says, kissing you softly before slipping out of his room. 

You curl back up in his blankets, still warm, and easily fall back asleep as you hear them leave the dorm. 

When you wake up a few hours later, you’re thirsty. You look for any texts from Jaehyun warning about returning but only find a cheesy good morning text from him. You press your ear to his door, listening for movement but hear nothing, so you creep out and quickly pour a cup of water. As you’re gulping down the water, you hear the front door chime as someone enters the door code. You panic, scrambling to set the cup down in the sink and book it back to Jaehyun’s room, but you aren’t fast enough. Just as you touch the handle, you hear Woonhak scream. 

“Ah!!!” he yells, followed by several people asking why he’s being so loud. “Noona?!? Wha– Why–?” 

Sungho’s voice joins in and you are hit with the knowledge that not only do Jaehyun’s roommates know you’re here, but the lower dorm does too.

You admit your defeat, turning around slowly to face the six boys who are looking at you with mixed amounts of confusion and realization. 

“Hey…” you wave awkwardly. 

You look at Jaehyun and he’s clearly embarrassed, but also smiling like an idiot at you while covering his face behind Riwoo.

There’s a moment of silence before Leehan bursts out laughing, unable to control himself as he falls to the floor. Sungho tries to scold him with a light kick, but it’s ineffective since he’s also smiling. 

“We decided to all have lunch together today, Yn,” Riwoo announces as he and Jaehyun lift the bags in their hands. “Care to join us?” 

You’re taken aback by their casualness before realizing they must have figured you and Jaehyun out long ago. “Uh…” 

“Wait, why are you here?” Woonhak asks again as the others brush past him. “What’s going on?” 

Okay, maybe all of them but Woonhak. 

“Come on, Woonie, come help me set the table,” Sungho says as he pulls the youngest by the shoulder. 

“What! Why is no one else confused??” 

Everyone disperses, going to help get out dishes or prepare the meal while Jaehyun and Taesan walk towards you. Jaehyun looks apologetic, while Taesan looks like he’s having the best time. 

“Stop making him late,” Taesan orders playfully. “You two are not subtle at all, I knew you were in there making him not want to leave.” 

“I’m the only reason he actually got up today,” you poke back proudly. “You should thank me.”

He shakes his head but is smiling as he walks back to the kitchen. 

Jaehyun stands in front of you with his hands clasped together. “I’m so sorry. I meant to text you when we left but Leehan kept trying to look at my messages and then I got distracted when we started talking about lunch, and I promise I was trying to convince everyone to eat downstairs but they insisted because Sungho didn’t believe it was clean–”

“Because of me,” you added.’

“Well, yeah, because you helped me clean. But now I’m thinking he knew and wanted to catch you over here.”

“Myung, it’s okay,” you promise. “You’re the one who wanted to keep it from them.”

“Only because they have big mouths and will tease me about it.” 

“That would require you to have shame.” 

He pauses for a moment before his face lights up. “Wait, that’s true! What’s there to tease? That I’m hopelessly in love with you?” 

You freeze and he stops when he realizes what he said. “You love me?” you ask, a small smile tugging at your mouth.

He doesn’t hesitate to nod. “Yeah, I do. I love you. You don’t have to–”

“I love you too.” 

“Really?” 

“You think I would help you clean this nasty apartment if I didn’t?” 

He giggles and kisses your cheek. “Yeah, you really gave it away when you started washing the huge pile of dishes. Do you want to stay and have lunch with us? I promise you won’t have to do dishes.” 

“You might not have shame, but I do. We’re going to get teased so bad.” 

“But I ordered your favorite.” 

“Okay, fine,” you agree, kissing him quickly. 

As you pull away, you heard a loud gasp from the kitchen. “WAIT, ARE YOU TWO DATING?”

Leehan giggles and pats the youngest's head. “Woonhak, literally everyone already knew that.” 

[emilys-bangs]

this celebration thing is so fun and congrats on the followers :) the fluff prompt #62 “it can wait until tomorrow” might be a good emily one. like she puts off work to go have fun w reader or make time for date night or something like that. up to you, love your writing <3

I’m so glad you’re having fun with it! I am too ;) and tysm, hope you like this <3

Join my celebration here

Word count: 0.9k

Emily frowns down at the paperwork littering her desk, a throbbing headache clawing its way to her temples. Her pen is held loosely in her hand as she gives herself a small break from writing, her fingers cramped and aching.

She has yet to get used to this part of the job.

If she can focus on anything other than the infuriating red tape she’s trying to work her way through, she’d notice the way her shoulders are tense, the ache in her lower back from sitting too long.

As it is, she doesn’t notice these things. Not until a knock sounds on the door and she looks up, finding you just across the threshold of her office.

“Hi,” you smile, beautiful if a little hesitant—it couldn’t be at disturbing her, could it? You do it all the time.

Then her gaze dips down to your outfit, fancy and way too nice for the bullpen, and the realization dawns with a click.

Emily stands up, the pen falling from her hand and thudding onto the desk. “I’m so sorry, it slipped from my mind.” She blurts, and the brief worry on your face smooths out as you smile and cross the floor of her office.

“It’s okay, pretty,” you hum as you reach her, leaning over her desk to steal a kiss. Emily’s cheeks heat at the title, dropping so lovingly from your mouth even when your planned date night slipped from her mind.

“It’s not,” she murmurs, her words muffled against your lips. Her hand travels to your waist and she squeezes lightly, “Just give me a minute, I’ll pack up and we can go.”

You were supposed to go have dinner—location unknown, a precaution that you had started taking after one too many dates had been canceled in favor of a case—about, Emily looks down at her watch, half an hour ago. Darkness presses itself against her office windows, the cotton candy pink of the sunset long gone while she labored away at her desk.

“We don’t have to,” you say, still holding on to her. That in itself tells her your words are less than genuine, even without hearing the slight uncertainty to your voice. It’s been too long since the two of you went out. “If you’re busy.”

“I’m not.” Emily lies. The mountain of paperwork behind her betrays her, but it’s something that can wait, damn it, and she’s not going to postpone another date night if she can help it. “Just give me a minute.” She repeats.

She barely lets go of you before you’re protesting. “Emily, it’s fine,” a frown draws your brows together as you peer over her shoulder, “that stack looks awful, I wouldn’t want it to pile up on you even more—”

Emily takes your hand off her waist and brushes her lips along your knuckles, promptly shutting you up. Her fingers curl around yours as your mouth audibly snaps shut, a hitch in your breath that she’s too close not to hear.

“It can wait until tomorrow.” Emily insists, her voice purposely low and soft; smoky, like the warm remnants of a bonfire, but also firm in the way she’s learned to be since becoming Unit Chief.

Stubborn as ever, you still try to persist. “But—”

“Hey, hey, I’m the boss.” Emily interrupts. She has half a mind to kiss you brainless, just to slow down that mouth of yours. 

On second thought—

Emily gently pinches your chin and brings you closer, until your lips meet hers. The fight audibly leaks out of you as you sigh into her mouth and melt into her, your hands digging into her waist. The feeling is heavenly, reminding Emily just what exactly she’s fighting you so hard for. A matching sigh leaves her lips; it echoes in the space between your bodies.

Before she can get too carried away, Emily leans back. “And the boss commands you to take her out,” she cups your face, gently nuzzling her nose against yours.

Your bottom lip slides between your teeth. “I’m not sure if you know, but I take my boss’ orders very seriously.” She loves the way you’re a little breathless, inhaling and exhaling in soft pants against her lips.

Emily winks, spidery lashes kissing her cheek. “I was counting on that.”

Your face lights up as you grin. You start backing away, but your hand links insistently with hers, pulling her with you. “And you know how I hate to disappoint you, Chief,” you tug impatiently as Emily resists the pull to pocket her phone, a low chuckle leaving her mouth.

“Just a second, my love. You’re so impatient.” She tsks, letting your arms pull taught as she shuffles the rest of her scattered paperwork in a pile—one handed, because apparently there’s glue smeared between your palm and hers.

You let out an indignant sound and the tension between your locked hands loosens as you let go. Emily frowns, but a second later you tackle her from behind, your arms wrapping around her neck. 

“Take that back!”

The sound of your intertwined laughter spills out of her office and down the stairs. Soon later the shadows of your retreating forms follow across the dim bullpen as she pulls you out, eager for a night of bliss spent with you.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[triannel]

hi erm can I request some bill cipher x reader angst where it's like bill just keeps being an annoying little shit and then we argue with him and her super depresso espresso And he keeps trying to like apologise in our dreams. I think it would be so cool and I love your writing, ty.

:3

I might have gone a tad bit overboard with this request but I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

A certain triangle shaped person has been visiting you quite a lot for some time now. You never really did question it, not exactly knowing what to do, but so far you haven't been in danger so you supposed perhaps this was normal...

But he kept visiting, and visiting and visiting, and quickly you realized you were dealing with something else entirely. You didn't exactly know who this person is, but you already knew in your gut that he's most likely the trickster type.

You tried your best to deal with the situation, being careful of what you are going to speak of, and the actions you take whenever you're around him, but the longer you got to know him, you slowly, ever so slightly let your guard down. You are still skeptical of him, but after several months of having your dreams interrupted by him, you gave him the benefit of the doubt eventually.

As for the dream demon himself, he just wanted to toy with you in all honesty. After seeing you so guarded when meeting him, he got curious to say the least and so he started to make it as a hobby to visit you. He wanted to make you trust him, he wanted to see your walls crumble down before him, he wanted you to trust him so he can get the satisfaction of breaking it.

However he didn't expect it to go on this long! A year or two has now passed and you're still skeptical of him. Sure you now trust him...a little, but this is just ridiculous.

By this point it has become a "challenge" for him. Often visiting you a lot now, and buttering you up even more. Giving little gifts here and there in hopes of it being the missing piece for breaking down your walls.

In the grand scheme of things, he soon starts to fall for you. This little hobby of his has gone to the point of no return now, and so his actions towards you become even weirder.

The more you're around him, he can't help but feel actually comfortable around your presence. You don't trust him fully, but he knows you'll never try anything that might hurt him.

Overtime he starts to feel a bit possessive over you. Now visiting very frequently, but even so he will still be in denial though. It will be a matter of push and pull in his mind, until he reaches a conclusion in which he convinced himself that he liked you solely because he just needs a puppet.

Subconsciously, he knew you became far more influential to his life. You're a big deal now and that's something he cannot undo at the moment.

Sooner or later, he starts to actually long for a strong connection, at the start he was thinking of gaining your trust, but now he wants something more...

Even though he does his best to avoid such thoughts he just can't help it. Every being he has contact with, either wants something from him or is simply his newfound enemy, but you though...he knows you won't betray him. He's seen your relationship with the people your close to, you're loyal, kind and trustable, he must have you by his side...

So one day he came around and started to bother you very frequently over the course of a week.

He started to annoy you, oftentimes asking you to give him your soul as he promises eternal life and treasures. But you kept denying, and denying, and denying.

He doesn't understand, can't you see he's giving you what all other humans want? Immortality, that's all there is to it! You trust him don't you? Why can't you just shake his hand, he promises it's worth it! He'll be your pal, and you'll be his, it's a win-win situation!

As one thing leads to another, you start to become a little frustrated towards him and rejected his offer before he could even speak.

"HEY COME ON TOOTS! IT'S FOR YOUR GREATER GOOD, YOU'LL FINALLY GET EVERYTHING YOU DESERVE, JUST SHAKE MY HAND..." Bill spoke in a devious tone.

"No, I've told you countless times now, no." You spoke, standing your ground.

Sighing in dissapointment, for a moment he glowed a deep disturbing colour of red.

"YOU KNOW YOU'RE BEEING UNGRATEFUL HERE BRICKS, SOMEONE WOULD KILL FOR THE OPPORTUNITY YOU HAVE." His tone shifted, his eyes staring at you with a menacing gaze.

"well...if that's true, maybe you should go offer to someone else..." You spoke under your breath, feeling disturbed as you notice his annoyance and temper slowly rising.

Turning around, the colour of his shell started to glitch to red a few times. The aura of the place shifted dramatically as he turned back to face you. You stare up at him, your heart starting to race. Feeling your body stuck in position, you just stood there helpless as he glared at you.

Floating closer he approached you, your body instinctively flinched once he does so. Closing your eyes, you raised your arms in front of your face, expecting a force that never came. After a moment passed, you opened your eyes slowly to see that he disappeared.

Before he could grab you, his eye saw your expression. Right at that moment he just couldn't bring himself to do something horrific as he quickly realized all his hard work will go to waste. You were supposed to trust him, you were supposed to accept, he was supposed to make you feel comfortable enough to never doubt his words.

Realizing how foolish he's acting, he couldn't help but just disappear, what else was he supposed to do?

After that night, you did not get any visits from Bill for a short while. But then...

Sitting peacefully on a cloud in your dream, you play around with the cottonball surface of your seat. Thinking, your mind wanders to what happened a few nights ago...

Speaking of the devil...or perhaps thinking of the devil and he shall appear. Bill suddenly decided to pop up in your dream.

Behind you, he watched for a moment as you played with the cushions of the cloud. He couldn't accept it was his fault, but who was he kidding, if he wants to continue his little hobby he should at least try to make it up. The sooner you forgive him, the sooner you'll come to accept his offer... well that's what he tells himself.

But truth be told, he actually did feel a slight bit of guilt after that night.

The calm aura of the environment lulled him to float beside you, the wind picking up slightly as he does so. Immediately noticing his presence, you gaze to the direction he's in. Before anything else happens, he quickly hands you something you longed for.

Surprised, you stared at the gift on your lap. You supposed this was his way of saying sorry, it's unexpected but welcomed nonetheless. Nodding your head, you accept his gift, thanking him quietly with a quaint smile on your face.

Still and silent, you both sit there in peace with each other, enjoying the tranquility of the surroundings as your relationship with each other slightly gets better.

[matchavellichor]

If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊

Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️

A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶

You Drew Stars

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words

Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...

Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow

The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew. 

He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.

“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?” 

“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”

“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”

She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”

He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page. 

She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.

After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.

“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”

“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”

“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”

He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”

“What can I say, I’m enticing.”

Overwhelmingly, he thought.

He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.

They fell into a simple sort of routine. 

Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.

He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.

She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.

He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea. 

She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.

It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.

Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room. 

Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries? 

They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.

He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together. 

//

Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.

“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”

“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”

“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”

“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”

He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?” 

Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”

He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”

//

“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”

“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”

“Both?”

She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”

“We’re friends? This is news to me.” 

She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”

“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”

He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens. 

“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.” 

You’re good for me, he thought.

“Call it self-preservation.”

//

“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”

“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.

He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”

She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.

Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.

They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.

They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.

“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?” 

He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting. 

She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue. 

His mouth felt terribly dry.

He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.

Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax. 

He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with. 

He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his. 

“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.

“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.

She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?” 

He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”

She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.” 

He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.” 

She grinned. “Shut up and do it.” 

He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery. 

“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began. 

He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.

“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”

She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips. 

She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”

He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.

“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.” 

He swallowed hard. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”

She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.

Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.

He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.

He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.

Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.

Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.

She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it. 

She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.

When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough. 

He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.

//

After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.

Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.

Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.

He adored kissing her.  Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.

He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel. 

She was bliss personified. 

Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease. 

His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.

After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. 

He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either. 

“Tired?” 

She shook her head. “Just missed you.”

He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”

She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done. 

Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?

He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.

He loved having her like this. 

Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him. 

She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.

“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable. 

She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming. 

He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time. 

A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.

“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.

She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.

His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.” 

“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”

He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed. 

“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”

//

Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.

Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room. 

His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.

He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing. 

“Have you ever…?”

He shook his head, sheepish. “No.” 

She nodded. 

A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”

She shook her head. “Never.”

His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”

She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”

“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”

“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?” 

“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.” 

“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.” 

It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”

She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.” 

Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.” 

“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.” 

He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”

He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”

“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.” 

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”

“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t hold that against you, either.”

She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his. 

He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.

“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care. 

If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure. 

She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.

He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate. 

She tensed. “You don’t have to—”

“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”

Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”

It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.

“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”

She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.

He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something  right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s. 

“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.

He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”

She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.

Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.

“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”

He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.

He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.

His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”

She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”

He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts. 

“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust. 

She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop. 

“Christ, you’re — fuck,”  Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”

He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut,  being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” 

Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.

“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”

His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.

She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”

He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.” 

She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.

“You’ve only just noticed?”

//

It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him. 

His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.

Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Fucking took you two long enough.”

[slasherbvnnie]

Rated X

Hello! Enjoy this poly ghostface smut. Modern day AU, all characters 18+, the boys aren't killers, just psychos.

Word Count: 2882

“What about Texas Chainsaw?” “It creeps me out too much,” you said as the boys laughed. “You? Freaked out by Leatherface?” “I don’t like Marilyn’s screams,” you justified as Stu giggled. “Her screams make it the best part!” “You sound like a psycho,” you said as you threw some popcorn at him. “Night of the Living Dead?” Billy suggested as you sighed, “I’ll fall asleep,” Stu said. “Invisible man?” “*I’ll* fall asleep,” you said this time as you looked at the screen. “Prom night…two?” “Die,” Stu said as you giggled. “Stepfather!” He suggested as you looked up, “Penn Badgley’s?” You asked as both the boys looked at you questioningly. “I’m putting on X and nobody gets a say,” Billy huffed out as you and Stu looked at each other before agreeing and sitting back into the couch.

You relaxed into Stu’s hold, a strong arm wrapped around you as you three watched the movie. Billy was focused on the movie, Stu more so on the snacks laid out in front of them, but you were slowly drifting off into sleep after a while. Your eyes had closed, not sure how long you were asleep yet when you heard Stu’s ringtone. You looked up to him sleepily when he moved his arm and answered his phone. Billy had also looked over, seeing Stu sigh before rubbing his face, “yeah, I’ll be there,” he said before hanging up. He turned to the both of you, offering a half smile, “I gotta get back, my mom's car isn’t working so she needs to borrow mine to get to some meeting in the morning,” he said as you pouted. “It was supposed to be a sleepover,” you whined. “We can follow and bring you back here!” You suggested, looking to Billy who gave a nod. “C’mon, you know how grumpy the princess gets,” he said as Stu chuckled. “My mom would totally have my ass and guilt trip me into staying,” he said as he smiled, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Tomorrow I will come over and make it up to you, ‘kay?” He said as he held your chin, you pouting as you nodded. “yeah, okay,” you said as Billy hummed. “Be careful, Stu,” he said as Stu got up and smirked. “Don’t have fun without me, I’ll feel left out,” he teased as he got up from the couch. You watched him walk out and frowned before Billy kissed your cheek. “Sleepy?” He asked as you focused on him and nodded. “Let’s get you to bed before you become a total grump,” he said, squeezing your sides, earning a small giggle from you as you squirmed out of his hold.

Pretty soon you were in Billy’s room, cuddled up together under the blankets. You did miss the warmth Stu would have provided- he was practically a walking, talking space heater- but Billy was so warm tonight that you didn’t mind too much. “Bunny,” he called out softly to grab your wandering attention, “yeah?” you whispered back. “Get some sleep. We can pick up Stu in the morning,” he said as he pecked your forehead. “He’s never awake before noon,” you giggled, Billy smiling softly.

You were out like a light again but woke up when you didn’t feel as warm as before. You thought Billy had just taken the blanket from your side, opening your eyes and reaching out before feeling the comforter over yourself still. You frowned, looking into the darkness and noticing his outline missing. “Billy?” You whined out, usually he was a light sleeper and responded anytime he heard your voice, even the times you sleep-talked. You reached over for your phone, turning on the flashlight and frowning when you saw the door wide open, “Billy,” you called louder this time, wondering if he had gone to the bathroom. You sat up, waiting for him to walk in or respond before you heard the sound of groaning. “Billy?” You asked as you got out of bed, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to the hall. You could hear more groaning then what sounded like glass breaking from downstairs. You felt your body go cold, frozen in place as you stared down the hall and to the stairs. “A-are you okay Billy?” You asked, a shaky hand gripping your phone as you slowly walked down the hallway and the stairs. You moved your phone around, searching for him quietly. You walked into the living room, looking around before hearing footsteps behind you, turning quickly and coming face to face with a masked person. Just as you were about to scream you felt a pair of hands grab you, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other covered your mouth. You dropped your phone, screaming underneath their hands as you tried to kick at the other person coming at you. An all too familiar laugh sounded from in front of you, whining as they grabbed your flailing hands. “Woah there, princess,” they said, laughing as they lifted the mask. You stared at the taller person, eyebrows furrowing as the person behind you let go of you. “Assholes!” You yelled, hitting Stu’s shoulder before turning to see Billy and doing the same to him.

Both boys laughed, quieting when they saw tears that were pricking your eyes. “Oh, don’t cry, baby,” Billy said as you swatted away his hand. “Fuck off, you two suck,” you grumbled, picking up your phone from the floor. “Oh c’mon baby,” Stu whined as you glared at him. “I thought Billy fucking died, not funny. Shouldn’t you be at home?” You questioned as Stu grinned, leaning against the stair railing you were currently climbing up. “A part of the prank,” he said as you glared once again. “I’m going to bed, alone.”

“Oh, what, I can’t join?~” He teased as you shook your head. “Jerk each other off if you get horny, I’m tired,” you said as you went back into the bedroom. You lay down, cuddling back into the covers, heart still racing from the scare. The boys had gotten into pranks before, but not ones where you thought one of them died, they always had stupid and meaningless pranks, never this. So you gave them the silent treatment even when they went upstairs after a little while, ignoring them as they laid beside either side of you. You had to admit, it was hard to ignore them when you were sandwiched between them, but you were stubborn as hell.

Stu was the first to snake his arm around you, gently running his fingers along your back as you pretended to be asleep. “You really asleep, sweetheart?” Billy whispered in your ear as he pulled you to his chest. He was still warm, if you concentrated hard enough you could still smell his cologne from earlier in the day. “I think she is,” Stu said softly, gently tracing shapes on your back. “We should check,” He mumbled, moving closer, his lips pressed against your neck. He gave you soft kisses, you tried to keep your breath from hitching to alert them that you were indeed awake.

“Hey, hasn’t she told us before she really wanted us to do her in her sleep?” He questioned as Billy smirked. “Yeah,” he said, his grip on you tighter as Stu chuckled. “We should do it, you know, as a sorry,” he said as Billy moved you slowly, laying you on your back now. You felt them move, the bed dipping near your legs before you could feel warmth over you. This time you smelt Stu’s cologne, feeling his fingers dip into your pajama shorts as he slowly pulled them down. Billy’s breath seemed to hitch as he watched, his ring-clad fingers slowly trailing over your bare thighs. Stu was quick to move, positioning himself between your legs, Billy helping spread them as Stu kissed your navel. He slowly trailed the kisses lower, which made you do your best to not give yourself away. You bit down on your tongue as he pressed a kiss to your core, feeling Billy’s fingers trailing up your body now, reaching under your shirt.

Stu pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing gently as he let his tongue run down your folds. “Christ, s’wet already,” he groaned against your core, you wanted to squirm as he lapped at you. Billy squeezed your chest, running his fingers over your nipples as you moved your head a little. He chuckled, “I know you’re not asleep,” he whispered as he leaned down to your ear. “Could tell with how hard your heart’s beating,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to your throat, gently nipping at it, causing you to whine out.

“There’s that pretty voice, sucha pretty girl,” Stu groaned against your pussy, you whined again, reaching down to grip his hair. Billy chuckled, moving to the side of your neck and giving you a hickey. “What happened to being mad at us?” He questioned as you pouted. “I can forgive both of you if you just fuck me,” you said, moaning as you felt Stu’s tongue enter you. You tried squirming away from the sudden pleasure, but his hands were quick to hold you in place.

“What are we? A piece of meat?” Billy laughed as you whined, gasping as Stu rubbed at your clit. “N-no, just- want both of you…” you moaned. He smirked, pulling away from your neck, hovering over you. “Is that why you were so sad Stu had to leave? Wanted both of our cocks in you?” He asked as you nodded eagerly. “Words, bunny,” he said as you let out a small wail as Stu switched his fingers and tongue, sucking on your clit. “Yes! Fuck, wanted- wanted it s’bad,” you moaned out, eyes closing as you felt another of Stu’s fingers enter you.

You pulsed around his digits, getting close to cumming from his movements before Billy moved. You felt his cold ring against your hand as he pulled it away from Stu’s head, whining at the loss of his mouth and fingers. But you were soon picked up into Stu’s arms as you felt the bed dip again. Billy’s lamp on his bedside table was turned on, you squinted from the sudden brightness, watching as Billy undressed. You bit down on your bottom lip as you saw his dick slap against his stomach when he took off his pants, his tip leaking precum before he climbed back into bed. Stu was also undressing, pulling you into his lap, his erection pressing against your lower back. You grew more wet as Billy covered between your legs, cupping your cheeks as he kissed you. “Think you can take both of us, sweet girl?” He asked as you nodded. “Want..want both of you,” you begged, Stu groaning in your ear as he pressed a kiss to the new hickey Billy made. “You’re such a good girl…you know that?” He asked, you blushed at his words before moaning as Billy ran his tip against your folds. He reached over, grabbing a bottle of lube, and coating his dick before tossing it to Stu. He leaned closer, kissing Stu as he uncapped it and lubed up his cock. You watched, growing wet at the sight of them making out, reaching behind you to Stu’s cock, gently stroking him. Stu keened into Billy’s touch, groaning into his mouth as you stroked him. “Fuck,” he said with a breathy chuckle when Billy pulled away. “Gonna put it in, okay baby?” Stu said as you nodded, relaxing as your back pressed to his chest. You felt his tip press against your hole, gently pushing into you. You put one hand on his thigh to support yourself, eyes closing as you whimpered from the stretch. “Feel so good, princess,” he hummed as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

Billy smirked, watching the two of you closely, his fingers gently rubbing at your clit. You moaned, Stu moaning in unison from feeling you clench around him. Billy chuckled, “don’t bust already,” he teased as Stu shot him a glare. “Shut up, Loomis…” he said as you looked to Billy. “Please Billy,” you begged softly, Billy looking up to you through his lashes. If he wasn’t your boyfriend, if you didn’t find him totally hot, he would have given you chills with that stare of his. “What? Use your words, doll,” he said as you whimpered. “Need you in me too,” you begged, Billy twitched at the innocent tone of your filthy words. “God bunny, you’re gonna kill me,” he laughed as he kissed you again. He grabbed the bottle of lube, slicking himself up before pressing himself at your hole. “Relax for me,” he said softly, pushing in slowly.

Although you had taken them both before, the boys knew how spent you would be after this. The first time both of them were scared as hell of hurting you, doting on you for hours after to make sure they didn’t tear you or hurt you. It took them a day to leave you alone. Little had changed on the nights you took both of them, but they slowly became less scared after a few times, still waiting on you hand and foot after a session. The two gently studied your face as Billy slowly entered, Stu and you moaning in unison again from the stretch. Stu pressed his forehead against your shoulder, shuddering as Billy slid against him. Once Billy bottomed out you adjusted slightly, gasping at the feeling of both of them moving inside you.

Stu groped at your boobs as Billy circled your clit with his thumb, adding some pressure as he felt you loosen up more. Stu’s lips pressed against your skin, one hand holding your hip as you wiggled in their hold. “If one of you don’t start fucking me I’m going to die,” you whined, both boys laughing softly. “So needy,” Billy hummed. “Thought you wanted us to jerk each other off?” Stu asked in a teasing tone before you turned to glare at him. “You can still do that after you fuck me,” you said as he smirked. He gently thrusted up into you, eliciting a moan from your lips. Billy circled your clit again as he gently thrusted, following the opposite of Stu’s movements.

You started to feel your awareness and thoughts fall away at their touch, eyes closing as you were surrounded completely by the feeling of pleasure. Shock waves ran through your body as they moved, whimpers and pleads of stuttered words falling from your lips as you were littered with kisses everywhere. You reached one hand to the nape of Stu’s neck, the other gripping onto Billy’s shoulder.

Billy panted above you, his arms caging you in as he thrusted. Stu held onto your hips, helping give himself some leverage to move you enough to thrust up into you. You moaned as you felt the familiar burn in your stomach, your body feeling like it was electrified as they pushed in and out. They groaned each time you clenched around them, your body slowly reacting to their touch. “Fuck, gonna- Stu…Billy,” you whimpered out. Stu pressed a sloppy kiss to your neck, Billy looking into your eyes. “Be a good girl and cum for us, baby. Wanna feel you squeeze our cocks,” he said, his words pushing you over the edge.

You let out a loud cry as you came around them, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body shook from your orgasm. You were practically deafened, not hearing the boys moan from the way you squeezed them. Stu was the first to cum after you, filling you up before Billy followed suit.

You whimpered at the feeling, looking up to Billy as he began to slowly pull out. You whined, pouting as he left the bed and headed towards the bathroom. Stu moved you slowly, pulling out before setting you down beside him. His hand gently rested on your cheek, trying to bring you back down to earth. You looked at him, eyes slightly glazed over as you gave him a tired smile. “There’s my pretty girl,” he said softly, Billy walking back in with a washcloth. “Gonna clean you up, you need anything doll?” He asked as you shook your head, “no, ‘m good,” you said softly, voice a little dry as you whimpered from sensitivity as he cleaned you up.

“You were sucha good girl,” Stu praised, littering your face in kisses, making you giggle and push at his chest. “Sorry for scaring you,” He said as Billy tossed the rag somewhere, climbing back in bed and pulling you close. “I forgive you, both of you,” you said as Stu sandwiched you between them again. “Next time we can try out the mask,” you hummed, both of them laughing. “Really?” Billy asked as you nodded. “Yeah, maybe we can make it a whole date. Y’know, running away from two masked psychos in the woods, being caught by them,~” you purred out, Stu rubbing your hip and pinching it slightly. “Keep talking and I’ll drag you out right now,” He said as you giggled, closing your eyes.

[yeyinde]

coorie | John "Soap" MacTavish x f!Reader

He pants against your mouth, and you can feel the stretch of his grin—a languorous, satiated smile like the sunrise in the winter. All dark, endlessly so, and then suddenly— Johnny feels like dusk. The first breach of the morning over the lands; a sleepy haze of light eating into the tenebrose that shrouds everything around you. A steak of ochre, gold, in a world of darkness; the varicoloured smear of pastel clouds breaking over the horizon. 

Being with him is a little bit like cupping the sun in the palm of your hand. 

warnings: soft!Soap, super soft smut, fluff, domestic bliss, two idiots being drunk off of each other; female gendered anatomy, female!reader; very little substance just pure fluff

word count: 4k

notes: coorie is a cuddle in Scots and that's the cutest thing to me. we just have cwtsh. also, you can't look me in the eye and tell me this man ISN'T the little spoon.

The scent of wych elm and smoked cedar fill the back of your throat when you breathe in. The cloying richness tickles your nose; the heft of it is familiar, heady. Your head—fuzzy and thick from sleep—swims with the visceral sense of comfort that settles deep in your lungs when you pull it in. You know this smell. 

(Have a piece of it tucked under your pillow.

Did you see where my shirt went? The one I got from Aubin? I went runnin' in it this mornin', hen. Can't find it anywhere.

Maybe it's in the wash. 

Aye, maybe. 

You shoved it under the one he used, tucked it there for those nights that never seemed to end; when you always found yourself missing him the most.

Your secret to keep.)

You're caught in the middle of sleep and wakefulness; a purgatory where the world does not yet exist outside of the soft sheets dragging over your skin. Torn between the dream you were having that is still within reach (the taste of alder on your tongue, a hand across your pulse), and the cognisance that seeps inside: the birds outside of the window chittering, the cars driving across wet cobblestone, honking in the distance. 

And then—

There is a weight on you that—like the smell— doesn't belong. 

You'd gone to bed alone. Have done so for months now. The only company you keep is just the shirt, whose enticing scent has long since faded. 

You feel it, now. 

A weight. A presence. Something notches on your shoulder, a blunt pressure digging into your neck—a heaviness securing you to the bed, locked over your chest, and across your thighs. 

Your blankets could never be so firm, so warm. 

The dream slips into the recesses of your mind when your eyes crack open. A little sliver. The world bathed in bright gold. 

A rasp of something gritty and sharp scratches over the soft flesh below your shoulder, above the swell of your breast. The graze of it makes you smile. Makes you lull your head to the side until your nose meets wry curls that tickle your lips. 

You breathe him in. Sweat. Aged wood. 

He must have snuck in sometime during the night. 

(Finally, finally—)

The world resumes in pieces. The top of his brown hair under your eyes, his face nestled into the crook of your neck, soft plumes of humid breath on your throat, his grip over your ribs. Thighs tangled together. 

Like this, with your head dazed and spooled with the gossamer of somnolence, you can't begin to know where he ends and you begin. You merge together. A mess of limbs, heavy and thick with the scent of sleep. Warm milk. Honey. 

Johnny sleeps like a child. Always grasping out, reaching for you. He clings to you; body wrapping around yours as if he was trying to merge atoms. 

He might be. Johnny is a cuddler. The kind that sticks to you like glue, and refuses to let go. 

A slow, languid smile curls on your lips. Your arm laid on the pillow he's supposed to be using lifts, and falls gently to the top of his head. Nails rake through the coarse hair, scratching his scalp. His shorn sides are a little longer than you remember it, tufts of hair the same length as your fingernail. He'll need a haircut. 

You follow the trail of his mohawk, sliding down the nape of his neck, the knob of his spine. Real. Solid. 

You'll never tell him, but when he's gone, you often dream of him at night. The sweetness of it carries into the morning where it's ground into pain when you remember he's gone. When your fingers slide through the sheets in search of the man who isn't there, and meet the cold, barren emptiness across from you. 

He never sleeps in his spot, anyway. Always somehow wrapped around you instead. 

But this—

Waking up to the smell of him thick in your nose, the taste of him on your fingertips—it's the closest to heaven you think you'll ever get. 

At your touch, Johnny moans, low and rough. The sound drenched in sleep, and needy. A heat—soft, fluttering—spumes in your belly. The weight of his knee pressing into your hip bone makes you take a sharp, deep breath. 

It's been too long since his skin touched yours. Since the heat of him seeped to your marrow. 

Your nails dance down his spine, relishing the feel of his hard muscles under your palm. Johnny makes another noise—a soft husk, full of sleepy longing—and it goes straight to your core. His body flexes, coiling over you. He snuggles in deeper, as if that was even possible. But you know Johnny. 

Any gap, any space, between your bodies will be sought after and conquered. 

His nose pushes into your pulse point, stubble chafing your skin. The weight of him is solid. Comforting. Johnny's hand curls around your ribs. You melt into his embrace. Soft, gummy. He's sickly sweet—your gruff military man.

His knee stretches when he moves, his hip nudging into you. 

He's naked. You feel the thickness of him twitching against your side. Wetness leaks, dampens your skin. 

You burrow your face into his crown, and catch the scent of gunfire and polymer that clings to the tips of his cropped hair. 

He didn't even shower. Stripped down, sleepy and jetlagged, and slipped into your bed. 

Nails rove over his broad shoulders until you're locked into some parody of a hug. You feel the heft of his bicep beneath your hands. The weight of his burning flesh over your body. Clad in only panties and a loose top, you feel the fever billowing inside of you. 

There is something intimate about waking up next to someone nude. A stark thing that settles in your ribs, clotting in the brackets between them. 

The flavour of vulnerability. Touches of domesticity. It leaks into your marrow, bringing with it something soft and tender. 

Illicit. 

It brims up. Buoying to the surface. A low-grade fever itching under your skin. The blunt press of his hard, leaking cock on your skin is nothing short of enticing. 

Your thighs part as much as they're able to with his weight on you, hand slipping out from under the pillow. You take a moment to run your fingers over his forearm, nestled snugly under your breasts. The weight of him makes your chest flutter. Heart seizing when he squeezes you tight to him. 

The coarse hair of his thigh on your navel feels good under your palm. Muscular. He told you once when he brought you to a football game that he used to play. Still does when he has the time. A group of his old schoolmates on a rare Saturday when everyone is around. 

You can feel it in the thick bulk of him. Years of practice, training. 

But now—

It's in the way. 

His thigh is too thick for you to slip your hand over. 

Your core throbs. The sticky press of his hard cock against you does little to abate the ache growing inside. 

A huff spills from your lips. His hair flutters. Another noise spills from deep within his chest when you push at his leg, trying to slip it down lower so you can sink your fingers into your aching pussy. 

It doesn't work. He tucks himself closer to you, and rocks his hips into yours. 

A wry twist of your lips. At least someone is getting off. 

You try again, wriggling. 

He moves, pulls his hand out from where it's caught between the bed and your chest, running his warm, rough palm over your skin.

The movement makes you pause, hand falling still on his knee. You went to bed late last night, having stayed up watching trashy television until the early hours. He must have snuck in sometime after. 

Your eyes skirt to the clock on the wall. It's barely mid-morning. 

He needs sleep. 

Did you wake him—?

He dips under the hem of your cropped sleep shirt, and cups your breast in his palm. 

"Johnny—," you breathe, just barely a whisper.

He groans low. Flashes fan over your collarbones. "Couldn't wait for me?" 

His accent is thick in the morning, groggy and flooded with sleep. You shiver, hips lifting slightly off the bed. You're stopped, of course, by the weight of him. 

"You took too long," you murmur, panting into his hair. 

He grumbles; the noise reverberates through his chest. "Sorry, bonnie. Got my girl all worked up. Needy for it."

His fingers brush over your nipple. The flash of pleasure makes your toes curl, his name leaves your mouth in a breathless plea. 

"I know, I know…" he husks into your neck. "I'll take care'a ya, bonnie." 

"Wanna make you feel good—"

"Nah, dove. Just be a good girl for me, aye?"

"Johnny—"

His fingers rub your nipple until your peak hardens, pinched softly between his thumb and forefinger. His cock presses into you—little cants of his hip that make you burn for it. 

It's been so long. 

Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulder. "Please, baby, I can't take it—"

His laugh huff across your neck. "Needy little thing."

His thigh slides off your waist before you can snap something back, lips pressing to your pulse. It makes your breath catch when you feel the graze of his warm mouth, his tongue; it laves over your skin, carrying the flash of teeth. A tease, a nip. Between the burn from the stubble, and the soft bites to your skin, your neck will soon be a mosaic of his devotion. 

Your thighs part, desperation pooling inside of you with each brush of his warm, calloused fingers over your nipple. You want it, ache for it—

"Fuck, bonnie." His hips rut into you, cock so hard you think it might bruise your flesh. It leaks prespend over your skin until you're tacky with it. 

Your mouth waters. You wonder if he'll taste of the beach—

Your head lulls, nose nuzzling his crown. "Wanna taste you later, baby. Missed having your cock in my mouth—"

"Steamin' Jesus, bonnie—," it's bitten off in a moan. A desperate rut. His fingers spasm over your breast. "Cannae say shite like that when I haven't had this pretty mouth in months —"

"You should learn to be quicker with the missions then." 

His teeth sink into your neck, and you sputter, thighs snapping shut to stem the deep ache.

Johnny's tongue snakes out, laving over the indents left behind by his teeth. "I come home to you as quickly as I can, bonnie."

Your voice is barely a whisper. "I know." 

He groans into your neck when he moves, his hand slipping out from under his body, and resting on the pillow. His head raises, your eyes meet. Golden honey, rich and thick and full of want, gazes at you from under heavy lids. 

His smile feels like the dawning sun curving over the horizon. A flash of teeth. His forehead drops, presses to yours. Noses brushing. You breathe in him. 

"Hey," he murmurs against your lips, the barest touch. "I missed ya, hen." 

Your hands curl over his shoulders, knees parting to let him closer. A smile, soft and gentle, pulls on the corners of your mouth. "Hiya. Missed you, too."

He ruts into the seam of your thighs, heavy cock sliding over your clothed cunt. "God, bonnie. Thought about ya always. Couldn't get you outta my head." 

"You say that every time you come home."

His head ducks down, muzzling his stubble against your cheek. You feel the press of teeth under your jaw. "An' I mean it every time."

"I'm already gonna fuck you, babe. No need to try and charm me into it," you taunt, nails raking softly down is back. A tickle. A tease. His hips jerk into yours, a groan slipping from his lips. 

"Charm? Oh, bonnie—," his voice is rich caramel, thick and sweet in your ear. "I'm just fuckin' crazy for ya, cariño."

You huff. "Cariño? That's new." 

"Sí, mi corazón." 

Your brows raise. "I love how even when speaking a completely different language, you still sound incredibly Scottish."

"Aye," he nips your chin again. "You can take the Scot out of Scotland, but you can't—"

Your mouth presses to his, catching teeth. "Just shut up and fuck me, already, Johnny."

His mouth captures yours, tongue delving into it with a groan. He tastes of thistle. Your breath comes out in sharp pants against his cheek. 

Your hand slides down his arms, reaching under to tug at your panties. When he feels you move, he laughs low in his throat, lips clumsily glued to yours. 

"Gonna pull 'em to the side for me? That desperate, mi reina?"

"Very," you breathe, eyes lidded and heavy. "I only had my fingers, you know." 

He looks good like this—bathed in the gentle sunlight, sunkissed from his adventure in Mexico—and leaning over you, eyes hungry. Right where he belongs. 

"Yeah?" He rasps, swallowing thickly. His hand follows the path set by your own, fingers curling under your knee. "Was it good, bonnie? Did you fuck yourself senseless and think of me?"

"It was good," you whine, back arching when his cock brushes your wet cunt. The head taps against your clit. "But it wasn't you." 

"Gotta give my girl a proper pounding then, aye?"

"Yes," you hiss, eyes fluttering when he takes his cock in hand, and thrusts it through your drenched folds. "I want it, Johnny."

"Push 'em to the side, bonnie. I need to be in your cunt, now."

Whimpering, your fingers hook on the gusset of your damp panties, pulling them back. Opening yourself for him, and desperate for it. 

"Wanna fuck you proper later on," he rasps, his cock nudging against your cunt. "But I can't wait, dove. Fuck, the things you do to me—"

You're not wet enough for it to be seamless, but it's been months since you felt him split you apart, and the burn, the sting, of him stretching you open all over again makes your toes curl. It rides the edge of indelible pain and pleasure; an amalgam of being both excruciatingly good and too much all at the same time. Overwhelming. Perfect.

Your legs hook on his thighs when he nudges the head of his cock inside of you, opening yourself wider for him to take. 

He breathes out your name on a shuddered rasp that makes your cunt clench, pulsing with the delirious ache of having him within you once more. Hair dampened with sweat, his upper lip is slick when he presses his mouth to you; you taste salt on your tongue when he licks into your mouth. Your hands roam his back when he pushes in deep, flushed against you. 

"Gonna move, coriño;" he slurs into your mouth, eyes fluttering shut. "Can you take it?"

"Give it to me, Johnny."

Before Johnny, you'd never known fucking could be so intense when it's slow; just languid rolls of his hips, his mouth fixed on yours, devouring you. It's not rushed: he isn't fucking you as hard as he can. It's—

Tender. Sweet. 

Johnny fills you deep, the head of his cock nudging something inside of you that has your nails digging into his shoulders, whimpering against his mouth. The slow drag of his cock sliding out of you has your walls singing from the blunt pressure. The torturously deep thrust back in, hips jerking lazily into yours. It all pools together, an endless coil of pleasure that makes you moan, that has you panting into his ear, begging him for more. 

The equinox of it all comes when he rests his forehead back on yours, noses pushed together. There is no space between you—face to face, chest to chest—and he ruts into you like this, his eyes molten suns, nearly blinding, as they gaze at you. 

Johnny makes you melt. Makes your veins pool with liquid bliss, your core tightening with each sharp thrust against your gummy walls, and every slow drag out until only the tip remains. He hits deep, fills you completely, and it's good—it's so good —but it's this you can't get enough of. 

The way he covers your whole body with his, tucked into every corner and crevasse until all you can see and feel is him. He shares your breath; each exhale is his inhale. Eyes fixed on you; dark lashes fluttering when you tighten around him. 

These moments with Johnny make your head spin—a realm carved out where only the two of you exist; where you meld together and become one entity feasting off of the other. 

His cock, heavy and fat inside of your pussy. Your hands running along his back. His mouth sealing over yours, panting deep and ragged until all you can taste and smell is him. Until all you can see is the caramel depths that gaze at you—love in liquid; flecks of affection in gold. His pupils blown wide from pleasure, nearly eclipsing the stunning brecciated hazel. His lids lower, cresting in euphoria.

He's close—you can feel it in the way his thighs tense, his back trembles; in the sloppy way he fucks into you, mouthing along your lips. Lost in a white haze of pleasure, and too drunk on the way you tighten around him to notice. 

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades when his thrusts become choppy, harder. Legs spread wider to take him, ankles crossing over his tailbone. You melt into the sweat-slicked sheets, body liquifying with each snap of his hips. 

His chin rakes over your cheek, stubble grating against the skin. He murmurs apologies into your ear, tongue dipping out to taste the mess he made of you. 

"M'so fuckin' close, hen," he slurs into your temple, the bulk of his upper torso sliding over you. You're trapped under him, forehead pressed into the column of his throat as he bends your knees to your chest. "Fuck—!"

The light catches on the gold chain around his neck. The cross swinging like a pendulum between you. It draws your eye, and fills your chest with a deep spume of inexorable affection. Something so mundane, but so him; a little thing he always carries, keeps with him. A little piece of familiarity after months of loneliness. 

Seeing it outside of just a bittersweet dream brings tears to your eyes. 

You missed him. The heavy cedar scent, the way he kisses you like he can't get enough of the taste, how he clings to you at night, glueing himself to you in a futile effort to merge together into one being, his stupid haircut—

"Fuck," you choke, head full of nothing but him. "I missed you so much—"

"Me, too, hen," he groans into your crown, fucking deep into you. "Fuck, bonnie. I need you to cum for me. Need to feel you cumming on my cock—"

His words congeal inside your core, pleasure rippling from the base of your spine to the tips of your fingers that you bury inside his flesh. The thick heft of him makes you dizzy, makes you feel that tight coil pulling taut with each sloppy thrust he makes against it. 

His body sags into you, head burrowing into your neck. The grind of his pelvis against your clit as you spasm around him, clenching tight as he works you up toward nirvana, rutting deep, and breathing heavy into your collarbones. Glued, once more, to you. 

Johnny holds you steady, firm. His whole body cresting over yours, and keeping you locked to bed. Under him. Sheltered from harm. From the ugliness he keeps at bay. 

My hero, you once whispered to him playfully in a pub when you first met. Coy and teasing and high of the confidence that comes with a gorgeous man looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You feel it, now, nestled deep inside of your chest. Your hero, finally home. 

It's the soft chants of your name, the choked-out confessional about how much he missed you, thought of you all the way on the opposite side of the globe, and now that he has you, it feels like heaven. How you have Nirvana nestled between your soft thighs, and he can't get enough of it. Of you. He's drunk off the taste. 

It's a slow ascent with Johnny. Never rushed, never hurried. He takes you like he's savouring you, like he'll never have the chance to again. 

(On your first date, he took you hiking.

And years later, it still feels like you're climbing a mountain.)

A slow, lazy incline. A soft, feathery descent. 

"M'goin' crazy fer ya, cariño—," he pushes in deep, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. His voice is shattered, broken. The fractures in his words, the hard roll of his hips pressing down on your clit, all push you over the edge. Head full of that white pleasure that dances in front of your eyes like little galaxies in the cosmos. 

The pulse of your cunt around him makes his hips grind into yours, cock twitching as he spills himself inside of you. A low moan slips from his reddened lips, and he stifles it when he catches your mouth, sharing it with you. 

(It tastes of sugared milk and cinnamon.)

He stays like that for a moment, hips rocking against you as rides himself through, your pussy clenching around him, milking him for everything—every drop. 

Thistle heavy on your tongue, his moan nestled in your throat—it feels a bit like waking up again. A yawning crest into wakefulness. A slow roll into cognisance. 

He pants against your mouth, and you can feel the stretch of his grin—a languorous, satiated smile like the sunrise in the winter. All dark, endlessly so, and then suddenly—

Johnny feels like dusk. The first breach of the morning over the lands; a sleepy haze of light eating into the tenebrose that shrouds everything around you. A steak of ochre, gold, in a world of darkness; the varicoloured smear of pastel clouds breaking over the horizon. 

Being with him is a little bit like cupping the sun in the palm of your hand. 

His eyes slide open—a slow, shuddering roll—and you see morning dew in the whites; golden rays in the hazel. There are shadows, proof of a hard-earned victory, but he is not the type to let it linger. 

(You're not the type to let him.)

Sleepy, dazed from pleasure, he grins again. Nose pressed to yours, heart thundering against your chest. 

"M'not leavin' again for a while, now," he breathes into your lips, nose sliding across yours. He nuzzles his cheek your raw flesh, already scratched from his stubble. His voice is naked bliss when murmurs: "and I intend to stay inside this pretty cunt all day."

You huff, head listing as you let him smother your cheek and neck in affectionate kisses, nips. "You need a shower. You smell like Price. And sweat."

Teeth to your pulse. "And sex. Your sweet pussy—"

"You need a haircut."

"Thought you wanted me to grow it out."

You pretend to consider, hands sliding from his back to the nape of his neck. "I want something to pull."

"You can." 

"It's too short." 

He's shaking his head, temple knocking into your chin. "Nah, you can still pull. You can steer me later when my face is buried in your—"

"Is that why you came home?" You tease, curling a lock of his hair around your fingers. "Surely there were pretty girls in Mexico."

His head lifts. Rising suns, molten honey, meet yours. "Nah, got the prettiest hen squeezing my cock right now."

"God," you huff, walls fluttering around him with each gentle movement he makes. "You're incorrigible." 

"M'a man starved. Kept away from my girl for too long." 

His words are teasing, but his eyes—

Your breath catches, and stutters in your chest. "Johnny."

"Can't get enough of ya, hen." He confesses, words muttered into your chin. "Don't plan on lettin' you go. Ever."

"You won't ever need to." 

His smile feels like coming home. "You can bet on that."

His hand reaches under the pillow, eyes playful. "Now, about you stealin' my shirts…"

Your cheeks heat when he pulls it out. "How did that get there?"

"You're a cheeky little thing, ain't you?"

You place your hand on his chest, lashes fluttering. Coy. Kittenish. "I just miss you sometimes, is all." 

His eyes are pockets of slate, chiselled deep with a heart-wrenching affection that blisters through you. "Oh, hen."

Open, raw. He descends on you, mouth catching yours. Kissing him is always intense, always—

He pulls away. A flash of teeth. A smirk. 

"But stop taking my good ones at least."

[fandoms-writings]

Let Go

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x college!reader (Part 3)

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: Enough is enough. It's time to put your foot down with Bucky. You're tired of being hidden, but that means a whole new dynamic to your relationship - and a hard conversation.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY , making out, fingering, p in v sex, subby!bucky makes an appearance, Mentions of past sex acts, angst (this one is SAD for a little guys sorry), reader standing up for herself, confessions, bucky being a big ole dummy, cuss words ( I think that's it lol)

Part 1, 2 || Bucky Masterlist || Masterpost

Sorry! Can we raincheck?

Miles is down with a fever, can we reschedule?

I've got a surprise exam in the morning, I'll have to pass tonight.

The messages from your friends glared at you from your phone screen as you read them over and over. You hadn't actually opened them, they just sat in your inbox, one right after the other. 

Great. You sighed, glancing around the street corner where you were supposed to meet your friends for a night out. Your best cocktail dress clung to your hips as you shifted from heeled foot to heeled foot. You'd wanted to spend the night with your friends, finally taking a break from all the assignments and exams and responsibilities you had. 

But now, you stood alone outside the club, your uber already gone, and some guys eyeing you as they went in, giving you the wrong kind of chills. 

You huffed a breath and raised your phone back up, pulling up a number you haven't had the time to call - you were busy getting a degree - but that didn't stop him from trying to reach you. Bucky's name stared at you as your thumb hovered over the dial button. 

You took a breath to steady yourself as you pressed it and raised the phone to your ear. You hadn't seen Bucky in weeks, not that you didn't want to. You'd just been busy with classes and projects. 

And trying to get a hold over the feelings you had for him - the type of feelings you absolutely could not have for your fathers friend. 

He answered on the third ring, his voice and loud music coming through the speaker, "Hey!" 

"Hey, Buck," You couldn't help the way his voice made your heart start racing, even if he was just over the phone. "Are you busy?" 

"Not at all," His side got quieter as you heard a door slam shut, "What's going on?" 

"I was supposed to go out with some friends tonight, but they've all bailed. I was going to ask if you wanted to come out. I'm already downtown." You told him the name of the club you were standing in front of and he confirmed he knew of it. 

"I can be there in twenty minutes," He said and you could hear the smile in his voice, "Or ten if I run." 

"I'll wait inside for you," You smiled. At least you wouldn't be alone for the night and getting this dolled up wasn't a total waste of your time. 

You hung up before heading inside, letting the loud music rattle your bones as you made your way to the bar to order a drink and wait. 

~~~

The next fifteen minutes flew by faster than you thought they would've, nursing your drink and watching people dance against each other helped. But when those familiar hands landed on the bar next to you, you decided it was worth the wait. 

Bucky looked like he ran, his eyes clear and wild, his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace - though it was clear he was trying to steady it. 

"Where'd you come from?" You asked, a small smirk on your lips. 

"I was at the bar a few blocks down when you called. Started running as soon as you hung up," He said, sliding closer to your side, leaning to purr into your ear, "I've missed you." 

"Hm, have you now?" You fluttered your lashes up at him, and his smile grew.

"I have," His eyes flicked between yours then down to your lips and back up, "You've been so busy, I barely get to see you. It's a miracle I get texts back when I do."

You laughed at that, "Well sorry I'm trying to actually pass my classes with more than just C's"

He chuckled before smirking, "Did you miss me at all?" 

You let out a dramatic sigh, "A bit." 

"Ouch, only a bit, huh? Did I not make a lasting enough impression on you last time we got together?" The moment flashed in your mind - the dingy dive bar, the locked bathroom door, the cool mirror at your back, the counter under you ass, the arms holding your legs open, the way his lips felt on your neck, his hips snapping into yours - 

You pushed the memory from your mind as you felt your core go molten and your skin heat. Bucky knew as his smirk grew that he did indeed make a lasting impression, but chose not to say anything as you slid off the barstool, standing in front of him. 

"I want to dance," You downed the rest of your drink before lifting your chin at him. He chuckled before shifting out of your way, letting you lead the way to the dance floor. 

You didn't even get to take one step before a familiar voice called both of your names. Your heart dropped out of your ass and your skin turned ice as you turned to see one of Bucky's friends - one who also knew your father. 

"Sam!" Bucky smiled, clapping the other man on the shoulder, "What are you doing here?" 

"The wife wanted to have a night out dancing, and this was the spot her friends recommended, so here I am," he smiled, turning to you, "Hey you, I haven't seen you since that barbecue at your dads over the summer. How are you?" 

You pushed a smile to your lips, hoping it came across as natural as you stepped forward to give Sam a quick side hug. "Good, just needed the same thing your wife wanted - a night out." 

"I see," He glanced between you and Bucky, "So, did you two come together or. . ?" 

Your knees felt weak and you were glad you hadn't made it far from your barstool as you leaned on it for support. If Sam found out, there was no way he wouldn't tell you dad, and you dad sure as hell could never know about you and Bucky. But before you could respond, or even try to come up with something that didn't sound suspicious as fuck, Bucky's voice filled the silence. 

"No, I was walking back from the bar on 9th when I saw her standing outside," He smoothly said, putting a friendly hand on your shoulder, "She said her friends canceled so I offered to buy her a drink before she went all the way back home." 

It wasn't a total lie, but something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. The easy lie and simple dismissal of you two being there together, how it was just a coincidence. 

"Oh well I'm sorry," Sam looked at you with too much pity and you fought to keep your smile as you waved him off. 

"It's fine, don't worry," You took a breath, "I should probably go home though." 

"What? You just got here," Bucky argued and you shrugged. 

"My friends aren't coming, I'm not going to dance by myself." 

"Come hang out with us!" Sam exclaimed, adding a teasing, "Unless you think we're too old for you." Oh how wrong he was with that. 

"I don't want to be a bother," You said, "Really, I'll be okay." 

"No no no, c'mon," Sam got his wife's attention, pointed to you and you saw her face light up. "I think she wants to dance with you." 

"Okay, okay, I'll dance for a little bit," You laughed, following Sam to meet his wife on the floor, Bucky at your back. 

You tried to glance over your shoulder to get his attention, to convey how nervous you were - how nervous he should be, but he wasn't even looking at you anymore. His eyes were flitting around the dance floor. 

It was so easy for him to pretend nothing was happening between you two, to pretend like whatever you two had didn't exist. You fought off the uneasiness in that realization as you finally met Sam's wife on the floor and joined her in the music. Your body wasn't as fluid as it usually was when you danced, you felt stiff, but you couldn't help it. Especially not when another glance at Bucky dancing against another girl twisted your gut in ways you didn't know it could. 

Tonight was going to be a long one. 

~~~

Your feet ached in your heels as you quickly made for the exit. You needed air, you needed space, you needed to go home. 

You'd been able to stomach watching Bucky dance without you for the first couple hours - barely - but you couldn't take being ignored anymore. You didn't want him to fuck you in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see, Sam included, but you would've liked if he'd offered to dance with you like Sam and his wife did. To join the group even or, fuck, just look at you once in awhile. Maybe smile. Or wink.

Instead, he gave you a wide berth, didn't look at you once, and didn't seem interested when you excused yourself to the restroom twenty minutes ago. You hid in the stall, gathering yourself before exiting, glancing out at the group to see not one of them bothered by the long time you took, and decided it was time to go home.

Pushing open the main door, you blinked in surprise at the rain that was now pouring down, and you sighed, shutting the door and stepping as far away as you could without stepping out from under the awning. You called an uber to take you home and watched impatiently as the car icon turned down various streets to get to you. The driver wasn't far, and would only take a few minutes to arrive, and you were hoping it was enough time before someone came out looking for you. 

But when the door next to you opened, and that familiar head of cropped brown hair peered around the edge, your heart sank. Your name fell from his lips in a confused tone as he took in the way your arms were wrapped around yourself and how you were basically hiding behind the door to stay out of the way. 

"What are you doing out here?" He shut the door and stepped next to you, his elbow brushing yours. You grit your teeth at the frustration that was brewing in you, the urge to shout and yell. You weren't normally someone who lost their temper, but you were so tired. Tired of not being enough, of being alone. 

"Waiting for my ride." You refused to look at him as he stared at the side of your face and you watched the road. 

"You. . ." He hesitated, tilting his head and leaning a bit, trying to get you to look at him, "You're leaving already?" 

"Yup." At the dismissive tone in your response, he straightened himself again, but still kept staring at your goddamn face. A sigh pushed past your nostrils as you glanced at the gps again, seeing the car was only two blocks down now. Thank god. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked, following you as you stepped out from the awning and into the downpour, your dress and hair almost immediately becoming soaked through. "Or you can come over to mine, if you'd like?" 

"No, thanks." You declined, your voice beginning to strain, "I'm not in the mood to fuck you tonight." 

He flinched as if you'd hit him, but recovered as he sidled up to you again, "W-well, I've got a bottle of wine, your favorite brand, in the fridge unopened. We could have a drink and watch a movie? Or cuddle, or just talk? Whatever you'd like." 

You turned to him, surprisingly calm considering the way your chest seized and your eyes stung. His face fell as he took in the state of you, the misery lining your lashes and the anger pulling your lips thin. "Don't pretend like you actually care, James. Like whatever this is," you weakly gestured to the space between the two of you, "has ever been anything more than you wanting to fuck me," You turned back to the road, your voice dropping below a whisper, "and me letting you." 

His jaw went slack as he stumbled for words. 

A small car pulled up beside you, throwing its hazards on as the window rolled down. You leaned in, asking the driver for his name. The older man who was probably in his late sixties or early seventies introduced himself as Dominic, and after checking to make sure it matched your app, you pulled open the backseat door. 

Bucky's hand shot out to where yours rested on the car door, gently, "Wait. That's it? You're not going to talk to me about this?" 

You fought the tears in your eyes as you sniffed, turning your full attention to him. "There's nothing to talk about, James. I'm just stating how it is. I didn't ask you to come out with me just to ignore me all night, only for you to remember I exist when you want a good lay." The uber driver kept his gaze on the road, patiently waiting for you to get in, and pretended he wasn't hearing your entire conversation. You'd apologize to him once you were on your way. 

"You know why I - "

"Because of Sam," You calmly cut him off, "I know. But that doesn't mean you get to pretend that I don't exist. You wouldn't even look at me." You pulled your hand out from under his, climbing into the car. He held the door open, refusing to close it. "Close the door, James." 

"Can we please talk about this?" He begged, something you never heard him do - usually it was you begging him. You looked up at him, and you couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain or the tears that could've fallen. It was probably both. 

"What's there to talk about?" You asked, your voice raw, "There are boundaries we can't cross, James. And I'm tired of being alone." You took a breath to try and steady the shakiness out of your voice, "And I'm tired of waiting for you to notice me." 

You leaned forward and grabbed the door handle, ignoring the way Bucky's face crumpled in disbelief. You tried to pull the door, but he held it firmly open. 

"Please let go," You asked. 

He shook his head, your name slipping from his lips like a prayer, "Please."

"Let go." 

He let out a shuddered breath as he looked at his feet for a moment. You were going to say it again, when he nodded and looked up at you, sniffling. 

"Okay," He muttered, "okay." His hand fell from the door, and you watched him through the window as you pulled it shut. 

"Please go," You gently asked your driver, who gave you a pitiful look in the mirror before he nodded, putting the car in drive. You didn't look out the window again, but you knew Bucky was still there, standing in the rain, watching you pull away. 

~~~

"Thanks, Dom," You gave the driver a small smile as you opened the car door. He hadn't asked about what he'd heard while waiting for you to get in the car, or about your tears. He asked if you were alright, if you needed him to stop anywhere and get you anything. You'd smiled, declining the offer, but it had warmed your heart. 

"Of course," He turned to give you a sad smile. "If you need anything, I'll be driving all night, so I'll be around the area." 

You smiled at him, "Thank you, but I'll be fine." 

He nodded, before saying, "Hey." 

You looked at him again, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm not trying to butt in on a situation I don't know," He started, "and you can ignore anything I say once you get out of this car. Just," He took a breath as if to steady himself, "Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth. So you don't sit there and wonder years later, if shutting them out was a mistake." 

"I appreciate the advice, but," you sighed, "there's a lot of story there that I can't get into." 

"And whatever you do, is your choice. Just. . ." He took a deep breath before his eyes locked with yours, and you could see the regret and the sadness swimming in his irises. "I was that person, once. And not a day goes by where I don't wonder what life would've been like had I just listened." 

You smiled, reaching forward to pat his shoulder, "Don't let the past drag down your present," you offered him a sad smile, and he reached up to pat your fingers with his old ones, "Have a good night, Dom." 

"You as well." 

You climbed out of his car, walking to where the doorman of your building greeted you and held the door open for you. He eyed your soaked clothes and hair with concern and you waved him off. 

"Got caught in the downpour. It's headed this way, but I'm alright." You plastered on a fake smile, as you passed him. 

The elevator ride was suffocatingly silent, the only noise being the dings of the floors you passed and you spent the time removing your heels, your sore feet thankful to be flat again. The ding of your floor filled the air and the doors whirred as they slid open. You were greeted by that maroon carpet, and cream walls of the hall, the little gold detailings of the light fixtures and door handles plentiful as you passed them by, aiming for your door. 

Your keys slid in and unlocked effortlessly, and you stepped into the darkness, shutting the door behind you and locking it before you slid down to the floor. Feet pushed out in front of you, your back to the door, you sat there in the quiet stillness of your apartment. 

In the dark, Dominic's words kept ringing in your head. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

You sighed as your head fell back and thumped against the door. Deep down, you knew the old man was right. You don't have to let Bucky back in, but you should hear him out. But you knew by the way your heart constricted at just the thought of it, that you weren't ready, not yet. You needed to cool down and think and relax before that conversation.

So you stood on shaky legs and flicked on a couple lights before making your way to the bathroom. A hot bath to wash away the night and chase away the cold that was starting to bite at your bones was the best way to start. 

~~~

Nick, your doorman's voice echoed in your head as you stood at the buzzer of your door. 

There's a James Barnes here to see you. 

It'd been a couple weeks since you left him at that club downtown. Weeks of no contact, not even a text. You knew you needed to talk to him, but you didn't know if you were ready. You didn't even know what more could be said. What story he could try to spin you. 

But you remembered Dom's words from that night, and shook yourself from your stupor just in time to hear Nick calling your name through the buzzer. 

"Send him up." You hoarsely replied, "Thank you, Nick." 

"Sure thing," His voice came through the static before going quiet again. 

You took a deep breath as you looked around the apartment. It was a little messy - you hadn't really had time to clean these past few weeks with finals around the corner. Part of you wanted to rush to pick some of it up, but you knew deep down you didn't have time before Bucky knocked on your door, so you wrapped your arms around your torso and waited, trying to ignore all the awful ways your brain was coming up with for this conversation to end. 

The knock on that door couldn't come soon enough, and you had to steel yourself before pulling it open. 

Bucky honestly looked worse for wear, the bags under his eyes were prominent, his hair that was usually so well styled was unkept and in disarray. His normally well trimmed beard was longer than you'd ever seen it, though it wasn't by much. And in his hands, was a small bouquet of wildflowers. 

"Can I come in?" He asked, his voice gentle and somewhat hesitant. 

You stepped back from the door, silently holding it open for him to enter. He pressed his lips tightly together and quickly stepped in, watching as you shut and locked the door behind him. 

"I know that these won't fix anything, but I remember you talking about the flower shop two blocks over and how you really enjoyed the wildflower bouquets so I thought I'd stop on my way here to get you one - " He was rambling now, staring at the flowers in his hand as his free one came up to gently stroke some of the petals. 

You walked to the kitchen, with him blindly following you as he rambled on and on about the flowers and the specific bunch he grabbed reminded him of you and you had to push out the feelings that started to warm your chest down, down, down back into their steel box - the steel box you decided to lock them away in that night you left him at the club. 

After grabbing a small vase from the cupboard, you held your hand out for the bouquet. Your fingers entered his field of view that was still locked on those petals and his rambling tumbled to a halt before he nodded to himself. 

"Right, sorry," He gently handed them over to you and watched as you placed them in the vase and filled it with water. You'd worry about if you were really going to keep them later, and if you did, going through and properly arranging them. But right now, you had an important talk waiting to happen. And the sooner it was over, the better. 

"What do you want, Bucky?" You asked, pushing the vase away from the edge of the counter and looking up at him. 

"I was hoping we could talk." 

"I have nothing more to say to you." You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your hip against the counter, eyeing him as he stepped up to the other side, resting his hands against the fake marble. 

"You don't have to say anything, but I have some stuff I'd like to say to you." His eyes were practically begging you to listen and Dom's words rang in your head again. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

"Fine," You sighed, "out with it." You knew you were being a bit rude and cold. But after the past few weeks you've had, you didn't want him here longer than necessary. 

"Right, um," He took a deep breath. He seemed so uncharacteristically nervous. Whenever you were with him, he was always so sure of himself. So confident and cocky. To see him rambling and fiddling with the flowers earlier, and now struggling to find his words - it put a pause in your frustration. 

He straightened his back and took another breath, and you steeled yourself for what he was about to say. 

"I want to apologize." He started, "For everything. For starting this with you, pursuing you when I knew I shouldn't have. For making a mess of it." His throat bobbed as he continued, "When I met you two years ago, there was just something about you. Something that lured me in. You were - are so smart. You're so fucking smart, and beautiful and funny and witty and I just - " He sighed, "God, I fell so hard for you.

"But your father is one of my friends. And that's not right. What kind of man does that make me?" He asked, gesturing to himself. "What kind of man does that?" He all but fell into one of the barstools at the counter, "So, I kept you at arms length. Only saw you in secret, pretended you weren't there if there was even the slightest chance of getting caught - and for that I am so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. But," he sighed, taking a moment before continuing, "but I didn't know you felt any certain way about it. About me."

He looked up from the counter to you, across the kitchen with your arms still crossed, "I didn't know you weren't okay with it. With the hiding and the secrets. If I had known - "

"What?" You weakly asked. You didn't mean to cut him off, you meant it when you said you didn't have anything left to say to him, but your mouth opened of its own accord. "What would you have done?" 

He was silent and you shook your head, letting out a weak, sad laugh, "Exactly. You wouldn't have done anything, because you can't. Not with who we are." You swallowed down the lump that began to form in your throat, your next words coming out almost silently, "I don't just feel a certain way about it." 

"What does that mean?" He asked, his brows knitting together. 

"James," You sighed, "I've been in love with you for months now." His eyes widened as he watched you lean backwards against the other counter, "And what sucks, is that these past few weeks, all I've wanted to do was call my dad, or my mom, and get some advice on our situation," You felt the tears begin to build in the corners of your eyes. "But I can't ask them. And I can't talk to any of my friends about you because they know my parents." 

You ignored the way his face crumbled as your voice cracked and thinned as you fought the building tears, "I can't talk to anyone about you. I'm alone in this. And even if I were to have you, I'd be alone."

He was silent for a minute, watching the tears fall down your cheeks before he slowly stood and walked around the counter to your side. He hesitantly approached you, gently reached up with his hands and brushed away the tears from your chin. 

"What if you didn't have to be alone?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"What if," he breathed in, his eyes scanning every inch of your face as he caressed it with his thumbs, "what if you didn't have to be alone? What if we didn't hide?" 

A weak scoff pushed past your lips and you tried to glare at him, but you could tell it wasn't really there, "You're assuming there's still a 'we'." Though your words were meant to throw him off, the lack of bite in your tone kept him right in front of you, the tight concern in his face melting way to something you'd only glanced in his eyes a handful of times - something soft. 

"I would like there to be." He whispered and you felt that steel box inside yourself crack open. 

"What?" It felt like it fell between you, your question, but he caught it with his nervous grin

"I'm in love with you," he stated with such gentle conviction, that steel box starting to spring open further and further the more he spoke, "and I know I've made a mess of things, but I would do anything to make it right." His hands slid off your cheeks and ran down the lengths of your arms, softly gripping your fingers and pulling them away from your chest and to his own. "I want to be with you. I want to show the world that I'm yours. I want to openly be yours." 

That little steel box shoved deep down inside of yourself flung open. Everything you've bottled up the past few weeks came bubbling to the surface as you fought that wobble in your lips. You fought to keep it all in. To keep yourself composed. 

"I want to make this right," He continued, his own eyes watering at the state you were in, "You just need to tell me how." He sighed, "Or tell me to fuck off, and I will. You'll never hear from me again if that's what you want. And honestly, I wouldn't be offended if you did." 

The thought of never seeing him again didn't sit right with you. It made a horrible sense of dread fill your chest and you shook your head. 

"What about my father?" You asked, your voice straining against the words that were trying to get out. Against the confession that sat at the tip of your tongue. 

"We'll tell him. We'll find a way to tell him and it'll be okay," He gently pulled you, testing to see how you reacted and when you easily stepped towards him, he wrapped his arms around you, holding the back of your head with his hand, "We'll figure it out." 

The warmth from his chest seeped through his shirt into your cheek and you let it out then, the cries that you'd been holding in, the words you'd come to terms with days ago that you never thought would be voiced, the words you'd wanted to say to him in anger began clumsily tumbling from your lips. 

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Your lips scraped against the cotton of his shirt, "You can't expect me to tell you how I feel when you made it feel wrong to want more." You pulled back, weakly pushing against his chest before haphazardly wiping your eyes. 

You'd missed everything about him the past few weeks, no matter how much you tried not to. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his hands, the husk of his voice. God you missed it. And you wouldn't have had to miss him at all had the two of you just told each other. 

"The way you'd avoid me or act as if I wasn't there," You said, taking a step out of his arms, "How do I know that won't happen again?" 

His face fell as he looked at you, his hands dropping to his sides, "You don't, but I can promise you that it never did." He let out a sad chuckle at the confusion taking over the tears in your eyes. "I may have avoided getting too close to you, yes, but not once did I not notice you." 

He stepped forward, wrapping his hands around your waist to settle on your lower back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns into your shirt. 

"If we're in the same room, I always know exactly where you are," His eyes darted down to your lips for a split second, "When you leave the room, all I want to do is follow you, but I can't. So I strain to hear your voice and laugh over everything else. I practically hold my breath until you come back." He gave you a sad smile, "I know you probably don't believe me, but it's true. It's like my entire being orbits around you and when you aren't around, my soul doesn't know where to spin." 

You didn't know what to say as you watched him, noted the sincerity in his gaze - the tears beginning to line his own lashes. You weighed everything he'd told you, how he felt, how he was trying so hard to not lose you. All because you finally put your foot down, and then listened. 

You weren't sure if your brain could form the words you wanted to say - needed to say. Your heart was racing from his confession and the proximity of him. He was so close to you, you'd merely have to tip your chin up the slightest to catch his lips with your own. 

So you did.

His body instantly reacted - his grip tightening across your back and pulling you as close as he could, his lips moving in tandem with yours in the soft enticing way they always did, a sigh leaving his nose and tickling your cheek. 

The feeling of his lips on yours sent a warmth through your chest that you hadn't felt in weeks, and it quickly spread through the rest of you, tingles shooting out to your fingers as they reached for his chin and down to your toes as your feet backed you up into the counter. A small noise that sounded almost like a whimper escaped his throat, swallowed by your mouth on his, as your hands slid up from his chin into his hair, your fingers threading through the strands and gripping them. 

You knew there was more to talk about, more to figure out - there always would be - but right now you couldn't stop thinking about his lips on yours, his tongue gently asking for permission to play with yours as his hands slid from your back down to your ass, squeezing before sliding further to your thighs, his back bowing as he reached. His fingers pulled on your legs twice and in the spare second his lips were able to pull from yours, you felt him whisper to jump, so you did. 

He caught you, gently placing you on the counter as he stepped in between your legs, pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips left yours and moved to your neck, softly nipping and sucking as he moved down to your chest, pulling your shirt, stretching the neck of it but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. He only pulled away to pull the clothing up over your head and out of the way, his mouth immediately going down to close around a nipple when he noticed the lack of bra in his path. 

A low groan rumbled through his throat and into your skin before he moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment as the first. Every little touch of his hands, the way they grazed over your skin or grabbed at your free breast, kneading it with his fingers, and the hot trail his tongue left across your skin turned your core molten. You needed him, you didn't want any of the teasing and edging he so loved to torture you with. 

So you tugged on his hair, his name falling from your lips in a whine and he looked up at you, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown. The look made you hesitate and you clenched around nothing - you'd only seen him that far gone in the feeling of your skin one other time. So, seeing it now, you knew you could ask him to do anything, and he'd do it. You could order him, and he'd obey. 

You pulled his face up to yours, making him stand up straight as you locked your lips with his again and slid your hands down to his belt. While you worked the buckle open, his hands wrapped under the shorts on your hips, pulling them down your legs and causing you to gasp at the cold counter meeting your skin. 

The buckle finally opened and your fingers immediately moved to the button and zipper of his jeans, his own moving to brush against the wetness there. Your lips swallowed the new whine that he let out as he gathered the slick, pushing two fingers all the way in.

Your lips broke from his at the feeling of his long fingers pumping in and out of you and your fingers stumbled over the denim, but finally you got the button open and the zipper down and you shoved at his pants, your lips moving to his ear. 

"C'mon, handsome," You whispered, letting your lips brush against the shell of his ear and grinning at the shiver that ran through his body, "Your fingers feel nice, but," Your hand reached past the waist, gripping and stroking him, his lips opening in a gasp and latching on to your neck again, "this is what I want." 

He groaned into your neck, thrusting into your hand, his fingers in your cunt stroking your walls, matching pace. 

"I need it, James," Your other hand pulled back to grip his hair, pulling on it to get him to look at you as you continued stroking him. When he pulled away from your neck, he already looked fucked out and you smiled, leaning forward to lick his lips. He tried to chase your lips with his own but when your hand didn't let go of his hair, he stopped. "I need you to fuck me, James," He groaned at that, "Can you do that for me?" 

He nodded, his voice thin as he responded, "Yes." 

"Good," You smiled at him, trying not to whine at the loss of his fingers as he pulled them out and pushed his boxers down just enough. His left hand settled on your waist as his other lined himself up with your entrance, gathering some slick before he pushed himself in, going all the way in one go. 

His head fell into your neck as he groaned, the sound of it combined with the sudden fullness pulling a moan from your lips.

"Oh, fuck," Your lips brushed his ear as you panted. "That's it - fuck -" Your hands come up to grip his shoulders and his back as he immediately set a growing pace. "That's a good boy." 

His lips again connected with your neck and you tipped your head to give him more access, his teeth dragging across your skin. His hips sped up, a loud moan breaking from you as he angled to hit that perfect spot, Your head falling back into the cabinets. 

"That's it that's it," You panted, "Oh, don't you dare stop." His teeth nipped just below your ear and you couldn't stop the grin that grew on your lips, "Mark me," You grunted, "I want everyone to know I'm yours." 

What you could only describe as a growl rumbled from his lips into your skin as he began working to leave a mark on that exact spot, the sensation flying through every one of your nerves, shooting down to where he was hitting that perfect spot over and over, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to falling over that edge, faster than he'd ever let you before. 

His lips brushed the skin of your neck as he grunted out, "Please cum on me," His voice was breathless and he sounded so, so close to begging, "please." 

You let out a breathy sound, that band in you so close to snapping as you lifted your legs to wrap around his hips. Your fingers wound through his hair again, gripping the strands as you ordered him, your lips never leaving his ear, "Make me." 

"I will," He said between leaving marks across your neck and shoulder, "I promise I will." 

His hips never faltered as his thumb on his right hand came to press quick circles into your clit, your legs snapping around him at the sensation and your head again hitting the cabinets. 

"Shit, that's it," Your fingers gripped any part of him you could reach, scratching your nails down his skin and the shirt still covering his back. The band in your core snapped and your release washed over you, your body locking around his as you were sure you screamed into his shoulder. 

His hips didn't stop, still fucking into you at that brutal pace he'd set, his thumb still circling your clit and you could feel another orgasm quickly approaching. 

He grunted out, his only request this whole time, "One more," before his voice softened into a whine, "please give me one, pleasepleaseplease." 

You didn't fight the second wave as it crashed into you, stealing your breath. His hips thrust into you just a couple more times before he stilled and his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, his long moan vibrating into the skin of your neck as he buried his face again. 

His legs shook as he stood there with you wrapped so tightly around him, but it was like he didn't dare move from your hold, or let you escape his. And you were fine with that. 

Once you got your breath back, you slowly dragged your fingers over his back and shoulders, threading through his hair before going back down his neck, his muscles loosening with each pass. 

His arms wrapped around your waist in a tight hug as he finally broke the silence, "Can there still be a 'we'?" His voice was so quiet, like he was scared to ask. You pulled his face away from your neck finally. "Are you going to ask me out? Like a real date?" You grinned at the flush on his cheeks. 

"Can I take you on a proper date?" 

You couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up in your chest and you nodded, "Absolutely." 

There was a feeling in your chest telling you to think about it more before agreeing, but you ignored it. You knew the risks, and you knew there was more to figure out and more to learn before it would be a smooth road - and that didn't even include telling your parents. 

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, you just wanted to stay wrapped around Bucky in every sense and enjoy the warmth that filled your chest as he looked at you like you hung the sky just for him. 

Yeah, you'd fix the rest of it later. 

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications <3 @remis-library​ 

[potatomountain]

"Why Do You Love?"

❤️‍🩹 pairing: ex Hongjoong x gn!reader x bf Yunho

❤️‍🩹 wc: 2k

❤️‍🩹 au: idol

❤️‍🩹 genre: angst, exes to lovers.

❤️‍🩹 warnings: one punch, hurt/comfort, angst

❤️‍🩹 summary: Your ex finds out who you left him for, just before he released a song that shows just how he feels about your absence

❤️‍🩹 AN: how DARE Kim Hongjoong just drop that mv and put me in my feels so here I am putting him in some feels

❤️‍🩹 an unedited piece written during an overworked weeked at 4am every night i should've been in bed but Kim Hongjoong dictates my life so here we are

❤️‍🩹 nets: @pirateeznet @mirohs-aurora-society

❤️‍🩹 Banner made by me- would have included Yunho but could not find a Pic that matched the vibe I wanted. For other works: Masterlist

The way Hongjoong's expression crumbled tore your heart to pieces all over again. You had only seen that expression once before, the day you had broken things off with him a couple months ago. You told him then you had fallen out of love with him, and in love with someone else.

But you never said who.

Now he knew, staring at the way Yunho's hands pulled the blanket over your shoulders to cover your exposed torso as Yunho himself maneuvered himself to shield you from view.

Without looking at his elder, his Captain, Yunho addressed him, “It's usually polite to knock Hyung.”

You attempted to look at him over Yunho's shoulder, but Yunho moved to block you, meeting your gaze instead.

Both of you knew you couldn't keep it from him forever, but this wasn't how you wanted him to find out. How could you tell him that the man you figuratively left him for was his own group mate? 

“I- Yeosang forgot- offered to grab-” Hongjoong’s trembling voice was so loud in your ears, despite being so soft, that you flinched at the sound.

It wasn't like you ever wanted to hurt him, never intentionally, breaking up with him hadn't been an easy decision. Yes you told him that you didn't love him anymore but that wasn't really the case, you just realized he didn't have room for you in his life and it was hurting you with how hard you were trying to make a place. 

Touring was understandable, so was his work, but when you found yourself giving all your free time for just a crumb of his attention, it had been too much.

Especially since his own band member showed you that it didn't have to be that way. Yunho made time for you. He messaged you between locations for filming, and on breaks from practice. He invited you over for games, brought you food whenever you were waiting for Hongjoong to leave his studio, and comforted you on many occasions when you cried with the realization that Hongjoong wasn't going to text you or visit despite waiting hours.

Neither of you had wanted to fall in love with the other, but it had taken Yunho having a breakdown over Hongjoong’s treatment of you for you both to realize it had happened. 

You had kissed him on impulse, and that led to your decision that you needed to break things off with Hongjoong.

Lost in the spiral of your emotions, you were brought back by Yunho's hand on your cheek. He opened his mouth to speak but you could hear someone else calling out to your ex-boyfriend instead. 

“Shit. Shit…Hongjoong.” Seonghwa’s voice got closer and closer until he was panting in the doorway to Yunho's bedroom. . “Oh fuck-”

Seonghwa was the only one you both told, as Yunho had gone to him for advice. Which you had been following.

Break up with Hongjoong- check.

Keep away from the boys, in particular him for a few weeks- check.

See how you and Yunho click as a couple before Hongjoong finds out- also check but you both wanted to hold off until the man seemed to move on. 

This was not how he was supposed to find out. And the reason, what you all predicted would happen… did.

He was either going to implode or explode and the realization that Seonghwa had known resulted in the external conflict. 

Yunho kept the sight hidden from you but you heard plenty. He was yelling, the hurt in each word twisting the guilty knife in your gut that spurred tears.

Seonghwa shrunk under his harsh words, trying to get a word in but Hongjoong was having none of it. He started accusing you both of cheating, a few harsh demeaning words you had never heard Hongjoong say before we're now being thrown at you.

You sobbed out, covering your ears and hunching over to try and hide yourself in the blanket further now that Yunho wasn't by your side: he had stood up to intervene when Hongjoong had started insulting you.

There was a moment of silence at your sob, and then an echoing sound of skin on skin impact. Your head snapped up, Hongjoong's head twisted awkwardly to the side and Yunho's fist balled up in front of him. Yunho had hit Hongjoong.

“This was a mistake. This was-” You scrambled to put your clothes back on, feeling their eyes in you as you did. You and Yunho hadn't gotten far, it was your first time attempting intimacy past a few kisses, but of course Hongjoong didn't know that, considering he accused you a moment ago of two timing him and probably fucking Yunho whenever he was at the studio.

It hurt, and all you could think about is that you ruined their relationship, that you made their lives so much harder now. Could they even work together now? Yunho hit Hongjoong. What if Yunho got removed from the group?

Your tears made it difficult to find your bag but it was Seonghwa that held it up. Your eyes met his briefly and there was so much emotion there. He pitied you, an apology there you didn't think you deserved either, but you didn't dwell on it. You were out the door without looking at the other two.

By the time you reached the front door, you heard Yunho's harsh tone directed at Hongjoong, repeating some of the things he told you when he had broken down about your treatment. Now he seemed to be saying them to the source, angrily. 

You didn't stick around to hear how it went.

Not even two days later you saw it. His socials were plastered with it, as were the group's main socials. You expected another teaser for the upcoming Japanese release, but it was the YouTube notification from KQ you clicked on that brought you to a music video. 

“Why Do You Love?”

You should've backed out as soon as you saw his face, should've exited the video as you heard his voice- but just like everything else Hongjoong does you were captivated.

Tears were running down your cheeks by the end of the video, vision too blurry to even see the image any more.

What were you supposed to do about this? You knew, knew it was for you- but for him to release it right after he finds you with Yunho? It hurt so much.

You could only sob, the guilt on your shoulders heavier than before. The song was playing on loop as your own form of personal torture.

The worst part is he was right, you still thought of him. You still loved him, wanted him, even when you were in Yunho’s arms. 

That didn't mean you loved Yunho any less, that you would leave him for Hongjoong if he changed his ways. You didn't know what it meant.

And under all the crushing weight, you did nothing. Your inaction stretched for days, even ignoring the texts and calls of your boyfriend, and everything to do with Ateez.

You unfollowed the official accounts, even muted the apps. Your phone you kept on silent, only paying attention to work. You ghosted Yunho, and the longer that went on the harsher the guilt.

A couple weeks passed and this day felt different. It didn't… hurt as much. You braved the Ateez YouTube channel again, turning on the music Video and pulling your legs up to your chest. You stared at Hongjoong's face on the screen, letting his voice ring around you and soak into your soul.

You shut your eyes to stop the tears from falling as you murmured the last lines of the song. “No you, there's no me.”

There was a loud crash that jostled you out of your once more depressing thoughts, physically jumping and swiveling in the direction of the sound. Your eyes about bulged out of your skull at the sight of Hongjoong there, on his knees, tears in his eyes.

Yunho of all people stood behind him, attempting to mask the pain that the sight of you caused. He murmured your name, but didn't come closer.

Turning the TV off, you stood up on shaky legs. “What are…. Why are you here?” The question was directed at them both, but you couldn't look at either. 

How pathetic were you right now? When was the last time you did your skin care? Or washed the pajamas you were in. You stunk of depression, and the fact that they felt looser on you than before showed that you lost weight- reminding you that your appetite had been almost nonexistent these last weeks.

Depression does that you suppose.

“I'm sorry.” Hongjong gasped out, picking himself off the floor and making his way to you. His presence was a reminder of the last words he said and you flinched away from him.

You looked away when you spotted the hurt in his eyes by your actions. “I'm not a cheater. I never did.” You weakly defended yourself, weeks later.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I fucked up. I'm sorry I really fucked up I shouldn't have said- I know you didn't cheat baby.” He reached out for you almost desperately. “I know you didn't do anything wrong-”

“Then why the video?” You sobbed out, having no energy to stop him from pulling you against his chest. The best you could muster were your hands on his chest to keep some space.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hand on the back of your head. “I wrote it before I found out. It was already in our editors hands and scheduled, I didn't remember about it until it was too late."

“Then why-”

“Because I'm selfish. I wanted all your time but wouldn't give you mine. I… they set me straight, I know now how much I was hurting you baby, I'm so sorry. Yunho shouldn't have been the one to make you happy when I was yours. That's my fault.”

You shook your head, pulling away. “It's too late. I-I ruined everything. You fought with your members and and- got physical I-”

“We've made amends.” Yunho clarified for you as he finally approached, no longer a bystander to the conversation. “And we want to make amends with you…”

You looked at them both, fresh tears in your eyes. “How? Joongie- ah Hongjoong-”

“No no, call me Joongie again. I missed it. I missed you Baby.” He nuzzled closer, rubbing his cheek against yours. “I want another chance. Please? Please can I have another chance. I'll do better. I can't… I can't do it without you.”

The lyrics of his song floated through your mind, taking your breath away. “I- but- Yunho-"

“We talked about that too.” You felt Yunho's large hand on your back, a kiss on the crown of your head. “We’re… willing to share. Especially after seeing you like this.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion, pulling away to look at them in disbelief. You expected some hesitation or jealousy, some sort of tell this wasn't true. That they hadn't really come to such a decision. Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water, trying to find words.

Yunho sighed, pulling you back to them. “Let’s clean you up first and feed you properly. You can decide then but I know you. I know you love him. I know you miss him. He’l have a place in your heart I won't but-”

“-But Yunho is special to you too. He cares for you in the way I should. Makes you happy, keeps you grounded. And without you… we’re both pretty miserable. So you need us both as much as we need you.” Hongjoong finished for him.

Yunho smirked as he pulled you to your room. “Look at you, taking Seonghwa  Hyung’s words as your own.”

Hongjoong flushed prettily, grabbing your hand and rushing to catch up. “Shut up. He's not wrong.”

You found yourself astonished how easy going they were now after the last time you saw them. Yunho chuckled at the shorter man and stuck his tongue out, the mood between them becoming playful. Enough it had you laughing, both turning to look at you in confusion.

Both had grins spreading across their faces that matched your own.

Maybe this love could work. Maybe.

Taglist (Form): @candypop1611 | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou

| @minheeskitten | @sousydive | @alextheweeb7 | @thesafecafe | @euphoricem

| @meepsters-world | @mysticfire0435 | @yejisuu | @apriecotte | @amphiroxx 

| @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630 | @isiloiale | @plutoneu | @venn-ie

| @therealcuppicake | @lavishloving | @pearltinyy | @vampiregirl215

| @heihaneul | @gugggu6gvai | @oddinaryxfever | @smally97 | @pandagirl-016

| @hecateslittlewitchling | @arinyyy | @lovelgirl22 | @stayatinykatsy | @noone356097

| @misskarynie | @cookiesandcreammy | @atinycravings | @klllerwaifu | @joongscheese |

| @missweepingwidow | @callmemaysblog | @yunhowooyo | @zzzaaajaaa | @00iheartmingi00 |

| @intowxnderland | @lover-ofallthingspretty | @fanficsruinedmylife |

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, yn kinda meanish to han, yn feeling like a burden

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWO ▪︎ LIFE BEYOND THE WALLS (6.9k)

For being the guy who saved your life, Han Jisung turned out to be a pain in the ass.

It had been about three months since joining this post-rebellion group, if you could call it that. They reside in a small, fenced-in town, only about one intersection big. Before you'd been taken to where a group of them were camping out, waiting for the right time to strike the QZ for resources. Although you couldn't commend their actions, you understood them.

Fewer people lived in the town than there were in your squad, only six of them. You'd met Jeongin long before when he was a cadet with you, disappearing soon after. No one knew what happened to him, assuming he'd been bitten or died, but now you knew the truth, and Seungmin knew too. He'd stayed by you during your recovery, teasing you relentlessly about almost dying; you knew it was because the thought of that scared him.

Chan turned out to be exactly what Han had called him when you first met; the captain, although he didn't like to be called that, much more humble than some people. You'd properly met Chaeryeong after being able to leave the tent, learning she was the other sniper. Everyone had roles; Chan the leader, Chaeryeong and Han the snipers, and Jeongin the healer. The others you met were Hyunjin, a skilled fighter with liquid movements, and Felix, a recent recruit training next to Jeongin to learn medicine the best he could out here; a bit of a pacifist, but will do what's needed.

The first couple of weeks were tough; learning to move around with a broken limb was a first for you. Sure, you'd sprained your wrist or your ankle here and there during training, but you'd never had your leg crushed by a piece of wall before. Lucky for you, it was below your knee and a surprisingly clean break, but the healing process would be long regardless. Everyone here treated you hesitantly, unsure of your intentions. Seungmin was different, instantly earning respect from what Jeongin had told the group about him previously.

To say you felt like an alien was an understatement. After the first month it became clear that returning to your QZ was no longer an option. It had been too long, they wouldn't trust you anymore. You only brought up going back once during your first week there.

"How long do you plan on having us?" You'd asked Chan.

It was night and you were sitting on a pull out chair staring into a campfire in the backyard of his house. There were enough houses on this small intersection for the six of them, an extra reserved for people passing through.

"As long as you want or need to stay," He replied, looking over at you.

You couldn't meet his gaze. "I don't know if I can go back."

"Why not?" He asked. "It's not too late. You can say you escaped us and found your way back if they question you."

"I know, it's not that." You considered leaving it there, unsure how to phrase the next part. "The mission we were sent on wasn't supposed to go down like that. We were told it was a search and rescue and that most of the infected had left, but clearly that wasn't the case." You finally looked at him, face blank. "They sent us out to die."

He nodded, taking in the information. When he said nothing, you continued.

"Maybe my place isn't there anymore. I didn't grow up there like most others and never really felt like I belonged there," You sighed. "Then I met Seungmin and that changed, kind of. I always had Minho, but- ugh. It's complicated."

Waving a hand in the air, you shook your head.

"He's your family," Chan said slowly.

"He left me," Your words came out harsher than you expected. "And now I don't know what to think. Not to mention Minho knew what we were walking into and said nothing."

"Ouch," Chan hissed. "How does Seungmin feel about all of this?"

"Pretty sure he's glad to be out of there," You laughed. "He never liked it very much, always challenging authority subtlety... and not so subtlety."

You ended up sleeping on Chan's couch that night, too tired and heavy with emotions to return to your shared house with Seungmin; he knew you too well not to press.

Nobody said anything, just accepted you into the group after the first month passed and it became clear you weren't leaving. After that, people started interacting with you more, making small talk here and there. Your respect grew for each member the more you heard about their struggles to survive. It turned out the only one with experience in a quarantine zone outside of yourself, Seungmin, and Jeongin, was Hyunjin, which made sense to you as he had similar fighting techniques to the ones you've learned, but he's made them his own.

"I left when I was sixteen," He said one night while visiting you to cook dinner; "a proper welcome" as he put it. "Never looked back. Chan found me half dead in the back of a convenience store."

"He has a habit of doing that, huh?"

"Yeah," He laughed. "He really does."

Cut to present day where you're laying in bed early in the morning, Hyunjin lying next to you in the sun, rays reflecting in his dark eyes as he stares at you. He'd stayed over after another late night cooking session.

"Good morning," He smiles, propping himself up with his arm and using the other to trace a finger over your bare shoulder blade.

"Morning," You mumble, face half smushed into the pillow.

Not much later, you were dressed and ready for the day, leaving to meet up with Jeongin to check your leg. By now it was pretty much healed, but still aching. You haven't been allowed to leave town at all, staying back to rest. Hyunjin trailed a short distance behind you, humming a tune.

"Hey lovebirds," Seungmin teases as you step onto the porch, rolling your eyes. "Sleep well? Did you sleep?"

"Shut up," You playfully smack his shoulder, stopping next to him with a hand on your hip. "Jeongin inside?"

"Where else would he be?" Seungmin says. "Chan's there, Han too."

Groaning, you head in, knocking lightly so you don't startle anyone. You didn't have a problem with Han exactly, but he definitely had one with you. Since you arrived, he seems to have made it his life mission to annoy you, questioning your every move. It only got worse once you and Hyunjin became closer.

"What's going on?" You ask, joining the three in Jeongins dining room.

Chan looks up from the map displayed in front of him, eyeing Hyunjin as he sits next to you. A lot went unsaid about relationships within the group, but it wasn't hard to tell something was going on. In all your years in the QZ, you'd never acted upon feelings for someone in fear of rejection, but with him, it felt easy. You didn't need to say anything about your lack of experience in this field, he somehow just understood.

"A transmission came in today," Chan starts, pointing at a red mark on the map. "This is where we estimate it came from. Problem is, that it's in the middle of a huge city. There's no way we can get in there without detection. Chances are they're already dead by the time we get there."

"What was the message?" You ask, eyebrows furrowed. "Search and rescue? Resources? Info?"

"...yes?" Chan says. "First it explained the group was trapped in the lower level of a hospital when out on a medical run. They reached where they needed to be, but there are too many infected roaming the halls for them to get out the way they came, and the other way is blocked."

"Shit, that's not good." Hyunjin's eyebrows raise.

"No, it's not. We caught wind of this, but I'm pretty sure it was meant for a QZ to hear, not us. If we can get there first, we can gather the supplies we need as well since we're starting to run low." Chan straightens, analyzing the map. "We'd all have to go."

Thinking about it, this doesn't seem like the type of plan Chan would usually make, nor the kind of transmission he'd respond to. This was dangerous, risky; you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't put his people in that kind of situation for something so simple. There has to be more.

"This is a bad idea," You say, breaking the silence.

"Correct," Jeongin speaks for the first time since you've entered his home. "A terrible one."

He side-eyes Chan who ignores the look.

"These people might have information," Chan says carefully. "About... about Hannah."

Jeongin and Hyunjin startle at this, but only Hyunjin speaks. "Hannah? You really think so?"

"I think it's possible."

"Then we have to go, don't we?" Han looks around the table at everyone's faces.

"It's not that simple," Chan says, shaking his head. "Someone like her was described to be badly hurt; the whole reason they had to go to this hospital in the first place. It might not even be her. That's why I need you all to convince me this isn't worth it."

"Who's Hannah?"

Everyone looks at you.

"Um, sorry." You look away, picking at your nails. "Should I not ask that?"

"No, no, you can." Chan breathes. "She's my sister."

"Oh."

"Oh," Chan repeats. "'Oh' is right."

"How far is this city?" You ask. "And how sure are you it's her?"

"About three hours away from here, but we only have enough gas for half of that." Chan finally sits, running a hand through his short hair. "There's a gas station not too far we can walk to and we can siphon some from cars we pass. As for Hannah," he sighs and puts his arm out to reveal a tattoo on his wrist. "We have matching ones. Hers a star and mine the moon."

"Y/n and I can go to the gas station," Hyunjin volunteers. "I'm sure she'd love to get out now that she can."

You nod eagerly, watching Chan move his arm back to his lap.

"Are you sure you're up to this Y/n?"

"Yes, completely."

"Okay," Chan looks over to Jeongin. "Check her over and make sure she's okay to go first. And you, " He points to Han. "Go with them."

You suppress a groan.

"I mean, that's why she's here in the first place," Jeongin mumbles. "You just got here earlier than expected."

At the same time, Han says, "Aye-aye, Captain."

"My bad," Chan laughs sheepishly. "I'll see myself out then."

"Y/n, get over here." Jeongin stands, starting toward another room. "Hyunjin, Han, you stay there. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that. You understand."

Hyunjin grumbles as you leave, a smile forming on your face. You have something good with him.

-

"Will there be infected, do you think?"

Hyunjin pouts his lips a bit, thinking for a moment. "No, there shouldn't be. I went on a patrol that passed through here two weeks ago with Han and we cleared out a few stragglers. There are tripwires in the surrounding perimeter that we put up that day too, to try and prevent more from showing up."

This is the first real chance you've had to see outside of the small town the group has built for themselves. Not far from town is the gas station, then further down, a bigger town. You'd asked once why they didn't fence in the bigger town in case they grew in numbers and couldn't house everyone, Chan saying it was all they could do at the time. And since then, they've only lost people.

One of the people they've lost must have been Hannah. As much as you want to know what happened to her and how they got separated, you didn't press Chan. He'd tell you if he wanted to and when it was important. Nobody really mentioned anyone else, too painful to relive the memories. You figured you were lucky. The closest you've become to losing someone was when Jeongin went missing, but even then, you barely knew him. Then there were your parents, but you were young and don't remember much of them.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Hmm?" You look up at Hyunjin, sunlight highlighting his soft features. "How do you people always know when I'm deep in thought?"

"You squint and angle your head." Hyunjin comes to a stop, hand finding yours. "And you furrow your eyebrows. It's really cute."

Hyunjin looks back at Han, who seems to be lost in his own thoughts. His other hand traces your brow bone down to your jaw and ends at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. Smiling, you start to lean in, and he does too. Lips barely touching yours, he pulls away at the sound of a vehicle approaching. You move apart and he pulls you to the side of the road, stepping slightly in front of you.

"Need a ride?" The truck slows next to you, window rolled down to reveal a man just older than you, maybe around Chan's age.

"Nope, we know where we're going," Hyunjin answers.

The man looks between you two and smirks. "Don't get too distracted out here, you never know what might get you."

With that, he drives away, a funny feeling left in your chest.

"What was that about?" You almost forgot Han was with you.

"Nothing," You say. "Let's keep going."

Han rolls his eyes and Hyunjin jogs up back next to you, hand on the small of your back. The feeling of his hand is a small comfort, easing the nerves in your belly. Not many people passed through this part so you didn't know how to take his warning. If he meant the infected, did he not notice your weapons? You're more than prepared for a fight.

There's a break in the trees signalling the gas station; a small building, once partially a coffee chain for people stopping in. The windows are broken and the door is gone, grass overgrown in the front, and years of wear and tear all over. An abandoned car sits by a pump, tires missing and windshield shattered. Inside is a skeleton in the driver's seat, body curved over the steering wheel. The trunk is popped open revealing an empty suitcase. Poor bastard was probably trying to get the hell out of here before things got bad.

"I'm gonna take a look inside!" You shout, already walking through the doorway.

"There won't be much, we cleared it out when we first found this place!" Han shouts back, getting to work on one of the pumps outside.

There are a few aisles of convenience items inside and to the right, most of which are cleaned out or have been damaged. Glass crunches under your feet as you walk around the bare aisles, scanning as you go. There really isn't much; Han was right for once.

"Oh, but there's this," You mutter, picking up a faded purple box near the back. "I'm sure Chaeryeong will be happy I found these."

You tuck the box into your backpack, the zipper stuck.

"You're kidding, right?"

The backpack refuses to open, so you sit down and struggle some more. Your back is facing the front, the counter to pay directly next to you with the aisle on the other side tightly. After a few moments of fighting and coming close to defeat, it unzips.

"Thank you!" You whisper.

Standing and spinning around, you're met with a decaying body facing away from you. Immediately, you cover your mouth, crouching down and moving slowly toward the back to the station. It begins to turn, limping with each step. You've successfully moved around the side, inching closer to the middle until you can see the door, now directly in front of you. If the infected continues down where it assumes you were, you should be able to leave and get to the others before alerting it.

Of course, that's not at all what happens.

Making a beeline to the door, you're stopped by another infected coming from your right. You collide with it, falling on your hands into the broken glass. The cuts sting, the infected tripping over your crouched body with a crash, and the other limping over to you. Thankfully this one is slow, but the one who tripped over you is already getting up as you examine your bleeding hands. You could call out for help, but if there are more, you don't want them to get to Hyunjin.

You pull out a knife, standing up fully to take on the infected beings, focusing on the fast one. It comes at you, wailing and arms swinging. You're able to dodge, a quick jump left into the aisle and a swipe to its arm drawing blood. Grabbing another knife by the tip, you aim at the limping one, throwing it expertly into the skull with a squelch. Gross.

As you're distracted, the one you swiped pulls around the other side to your back, lunging forward. Landing on your stomach, you're not in a position to fight back, pinned to the ground by surprisingly strong arms. Another wail escapes its lips close to your ear.

This is it, you think. I'm dying in the middle of a gas station convenience store. No wonder Hyunjin and I were so drawn to each other.

The full body weight of the infected falls on top of you, stealing your breath away.

"How many times am I gonna have to save your ass?" Han grunts as he pulls the body off of you, grabbing your arm to help you up.

You take it back. "I was doing fine."

"Two seconds away from being breakfast is fine?" Han beams. "Then I'm doing amazing!"

"Next time, let the zombie eat my face so I don't have to listen to you, okay?" You get close to his face, personal space be damned.

"Yeah, maybe I will." His eyes narrow. "Then I don't have to listen to you either. Win-win situation."

"Guys?" Hyunjin appears in the doorway. "Han, back away. Y/n, what the fuck?"

You look at him as Han steps back, arms crossed. "What?"

"Why didn't you call for help?" He looks betrayed. "I was right there-"

"I was handling it!" You whine.

"You weren't handling shit-"

"Han, not so respectfully, shut the fuck up. Step out." Hyunjin enters the store, leaving the doorway open, Han reluctantly leaving you two alone. "Didn't want him to hear this, but he had a point. The minute they both came after you, you should have yelled."

"Everything was fine until I got pinned," You argue, not meeting his eye. "And at that point, it would've been too late... usually."

Hyunjin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm fast, it's why Chan keeps me around. I would have made it to you in time."

"Nuh-uh," You say, head snapping up to look at him. "Chan thinks of you as family, that's why he 'keeps you around'."

"We're not talking about me right now-"

"I think we are actually," you say, running your fingers gently down his arms. You take his hands in yours. "Do you really think that? You think he only values you for your skills?"

"Obviously," Hyunjin scoffs. "It's literally the apocalypse, there's no point in real relationships when you might die the next day."

You bite back a mean comment, taking a deep breath. "Is that what you think of us?"

"What? No! No, that's not-" He takes a hand back to run it through his hair. "I just mean he doesn't need me like that. I'm useful, but replaceable."

"Not to him," Your words soften. "Not to any of us, even Han."

Hyunjin laughs, head hanging down and your foreheads touch. All you do for a while is stand there with each other, urging your feelings to melt through your skin and seep into his, make him understand he's more than just a tool to be used.

"Hey, you guys done?" Han says, nerves leaking into his voice.

"What's wrong?" You let go of Hyunjin, walking outside.

"Those guys are back."

A couple of trucks pull in, one stopping directly in front of you. For a second you think he'll hit you, parking a few inches away from your feet. The same man from earlier steps out and closes the door, hard, leaning against it. He looks at the three of you standing together, taking extra time to take you in. Beside you, you can feel Hyunjin tense, and you grip your knife tighter.

"You three still here?" The man pulls out a crushed pack of cigarettes, lighting one up. "Any gas left? We're running low."

"Nope, just grabbed the last of it." Han lifts the red gas can. "There's another station about twenty minutes from here."

Another man emerges from the other side of the truck, rifle in hand. The one smoking comes closer and you finally move away from the truck, planning to walk away before he tries anything. There's another truck parked on the far side of the station and three more men with guns step out, blocking your path. You turn around, nearly running into the first man.

"Why go that far when we can take yours?" He blows a puff of smoke in your face and you barely hold back a cough, eyes stinging. "Hand it over."

You grab the can from Han before he can protest, sticking it out to the man. He goes to grab it, but you move away at the last second with a smirk. It dangles by your side.

"For what?" You tilt your head.

"This isn't up for debate, little lady," He scowls. "Now hand it over."

He makes another move to grab it, but you swing it behind you, angling your back toward Hyunjin who takes it from you. Growing irritated, the man grabs your wrist to discover it empty, roughly pulling you forward. A body comes between you and him, landing an attack on his arm and he lets you go.

"Get your hands off her," Han growls, pushing him back.

Beside you, Hyunjin stumbles forward. The gas can is no longer in his hand and you catch a glimpse of it in the hands of one of the other men, gun poking Hyunjin in the back. You feel the tip of another gun in your own and soon enough all are pointed at your group, fingers on the triggers. Han still has his arm up, taking in the threatening circle of people.

"I suggest you back up." The man drops his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the toe of his boot.

There's nothing you can do except let the group walk away, gas can in hand, and return to the others. Chan won't be happy, but at least you'll be alive. You watch Han's fists clench by his side, no doubt resisting the urge to throw a punch or two. It doesn't take long for them to get back in their vehicles and drive off, leaving you defeated.

-

"You're kidding."

Chan runs a hand over his face, staying put on his chin with the other on his hip. He breathes slowly, walking to the window of his kitchen, and leans back on the counter. Although his body is facing you, his eyes are focused on something beyond you. The sunset peaks through the curtains behind him and you shift uncomfortably to cover the blinding light with his body.

On your left is Hyunjin, head hanging low, and Han stands on your right with his chin high in the air. If you look down, you can see his hands shaking.

"We had no choice." You speak first, holding Chan's gaze the best you can. Having experience in disappointing higher-ups in your QZ made it easier to be present in this conversation.

"You had a choice," He says. "Instead of going in the store Han specifically said was cleared out, you could have helped with collecting the gas and gotten out of there quicker."

A shiver runs down your back under his gaze. "It's kind of hard to help when we only have one can."

Chan exhales sharply, crossing his arms. You can tell he knows you have a point and doesn't want to admit it, opting to stay silent and let you continue.

"Besides, it wasn't completely cleared out," You say, digging through your bag to present what you found. "Not that it matters for you guys, but I'm sure Chaeryeong will be happy I found these. So if you need me, I'll be at her house."

You know you shouldn't walk out without being dismissed, but you can't handle the suffocating air of Chan's kitchen any longer. There's no protest as you leave, but can hear Han try to argue as the door shuts behind you. As much as you want to head straight to Chaeryeong's house, you take a detour to your own first. Seungmin should still be with Jeongin figuring out the best route to the hospital, so you should be in the clear to cry on your couch alone.

Dust particles shine in the light of the old house you now share with Seungmin, greeting you like an old friend. It makes your nose itch and your eyes dry, sniffling hard as you lean against the door. Saying you were overwhelmed would be an understatement. This was your first proper mission here and you fucked it up. Since coming here, all you've done is be a burden while Seungmin has actually been valuable to the group, mapping out routes to avoid squad patrols and leading them to better resources. And what have you done besides lay in bed with a broken leg? You're useless to them. Soon enough they'll realize and cast you out.

A sigh escapes your lips as you slide down the door, tossing your bag to the side. Will there ever be a day you don't overthink every action, every word you say? Probably not, but maybe with enough time you'll just stop caring, stop listening to that voice in the back of your head. Or maybe it will win. Only one way to find out; keep going.

-

"Rise and shine!" A jacket is tossed over your face, effectively waking you. "Get out of bed, we're leaving."

"Huh?" You groan, sitting up. Your bones crack and your neck is stiff from where you fell asleep on the couch. "Leaving? And what are you doing here?"

Han walks back in front of you, taking a seat on your coffee table. The wood creaks and for a second you imagine it snapping, sending the man in front of you onto his ass, making you snort.

"What?"

"Nothing." You wave off his look of annoyance. "Answer my questions first."

His eyes narrow. "Chan sent me over to get you. We're heading to the hospital today, all of us. He said you better not drag us down more than you already have."

Oh.

"Let's get a move on," He stands, a strange expression on his face after seeing yours drop. "Everyone's already in the truck. You'll have to sit in the back with me."

"Yeah, okay." You don't have it in you to argue.

Taking one last look around the house you've been living in for the past few months, you wonder what you would be doing if you had gone back to your QZ. You pick up the jacket Han threw; it's one of yours, a worn black denim with a patch to signify your rank on the breast pocket. It wasn't mandatory, but you liked people knowing where you stood when you walked around in casual clothes, even if it wasn't a high ranking. There was a sense of belonging when you saw others in uniform with their matching patches, always able to blend in with a crowd.

You rip the patch off.

"Done?" Han stands in the open doorway, having watched you make this silent choice.

All you do is nod, slipping the jacket on as you walk past him. It's early, the sun not quite rising yet; morning dew wets your boots as you jog to the truck. Chan is standing by the driver's side door, no doubt waiting on you and Han. Inside is Seungmin in the passenger's side, and Chaeryeong, Hyunjin, and Jeongin in the back, although you can barely see them through the tinted windows. With a nod to Chan, you throw your bag over and hop in the back. There's a little window behind where you settle yourself, opening it to poke Hyunjin in the back of the head.

"What-" He shifts in his seat, disgust leaving his face when he sees it's you. "I thought you were Han. Did you want to sit in here? We can kick Jeongin out-"

"No, you will not." Jeongin locks his door and you laugh.

"I'm fine here." The truck dips as Han hops over, sitting closer to the end. "Besides, if I get annoyed with him I can just throw him over."

Hyunjin makes eye contact with Han as he looks over at your words and your eyes follow. He's sitting with his gun over his lap, bag on the opposite side. It doesn't take long for Han to look away, shifting to face the road as Chan starts up the vehicle.

"Weird," You say, looking back at Hyunjin who rolls his eyes. "Sitting that way is gonna be uncomfortable now that we're moving."

"It's worth it if I'm talking to you," Hyunjin smiles. "Besides-"

"Y/n!" Felix bounds over the edge of the truck. "Looks like we'll be together this ride."

"Lix, you interrupted me," Hyunjin whines. "I was going to say, at least I won't be bored."

"We aren't boring," Jeongin chips in.

"Y/n is more entertaining." Hyunjin pouts.

You lean in, pressing a kiss onto his pouting face and soon enough he's smiling into you. When you break away, Hyunjin sighs and turns back around, the truck finally moving. Closing the small window, you get as comfortable as you can in the back, shifting your backpack behind you to use as a cushion. Having Felix join you let you relax a bit knowing he can keep Han distracted when he inevitably wants attention you won't give. If he wasn't such a little shit, you could actually be friends.

The roads Chan takes are bumpy and surrounded by trees, no sign of life around you, not that the infected would really fall under 'life'. For a while, things seem peaceful. You watch Felix's hair blow across his face as he leans back, eyes closed. Although you knew some would think your watching to be strange, you liked to be able to take in details of another person. The rise and fall of his chest and the way his lips are parted in a light sleep; the freckles dusting his face and the small scar running through his right eyebrow.

Looking at Han, you can see the way he fiddles with the strap of his bag laid next to him. He's too far to observe in great detail, but you see the way his eyes wander across the landscape, deep in his head. There's a moment you catch his breathing quicken and he sits up more, crossing his legs and placing a hand on each knee. His eyes close and he takes a deep breath through his nose and out of his mouth, repeating several times. You shouldn't be watching this.

"Hey, Han." You crawl over to him, sitting by his side. "What's going on in there?"

You point at his head and he looks at you strangely.

"What?" He moves away.

"You seem tense," You shrug. "How long do you think until we get there?"

Changing the subject appeared to be a better plan as Han returns your shrug. "I'd say we have about thirty more minutes until we run out of gas. Then we walk the rest of the way which'll take at least a few more hours than driving would have taken."

"Do you think they'll still be alive?" You ask quietly. "The people at the hospital?"

It's weird to think of all the experience the people around you have and your lack of it, knowing everything in theory but not in practice. Other than what was supposed to be your first mission outside of the QZ, you've never truly seen what the apocalypse has brought onto the world, not first-hand. The time before, when you were a child, you don't remember. You don't remember the harsh world your parents died to protect you from or the way they loved despite it all.

"Truthfully?" You nod. "...I don't know. I hope so. This means a lot to Chan, finding Hannah. He won't tell anyone, but we all know how much of a toll losing her took on him. We knew she wasn't dead, just.. gone, which is almost worse because who knows what she's been going through without us? And he blames himself, he always does for anything that happens to one of us."

There's nothing you can say to that, only nodding your head again. Everyone in this group cares so much, loves so much. How could you ever fit into that?

"Do you have siblings?" Han asks after a beat. "Back in your zone?"

Part of you thinks of Minho, who looked after who when no one else was there. "Not by blood."

"Who needs blood when you have soul?" Han looks at you, really looks at you. "You miss them."

"So what if I do-" You start, but the feeling of something missing sets in. You haven't even talked to Seungmin about missing Minho. "I... really fucking do. I miss him so much, and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people."

He laughs at that, and you do too. "Because you don't care what I'll say back to you?"

"Hmm, true," You laugh again. "Sometimes I think about the fact I'll never see him again and it's like, that's cruel. The universe gives you someone only to rip them away without a goodbye. A glimpse of their face and boom, gone. Never to be seen again. He probably thinks I'm dead. He probably thinks you guys killed me." You pause, looking away from Han, focusing on the passing trees. "He never even came looking for me."

"Hey," Han places a hand on yours gently. "You don't know that. Maybe he's just looking in the wrong place."

All you can do is nod again, tears brimming at the edges of your eyes. It's not much later the truck slows down and you let go of Han's hand, crawling back to where you were before to grab your bag. This must be the part you start walking.

Chan is the first to step out of the vehicle, taking in your surroundings and examining a map on the hood of the truck. Jeongin and Seungmin join his side, mumbling amongst themselves. Hyunjin helps you out of the back, picking you up so you don't have to jump down. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Han looking at you again, but pay him no attention.

"You and him make up?" Hyunjin forces a smile and gestures toward Han.

"No," You say, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "We had a civil conversation and that was that."

"Good," Hyunjin smiles more genuinely this time, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you to the front.

"We go straight for a while longer before hitting a main road. There's a highway we need to cross, so keep your weapons handy when we get to that part." Chan clears his throat. "Stay in pairs as we walk, I don't want anyone wandering off and getting lost."

A hand clasps yours; Hyunjin, of course. Chan takes the lead, Seungmin and Jeongin close behind, then Chaeryeong and Felix. Han trails slightly behind you, clearly not wanting to join you and Hyunjin, but not wanting to bother the others either. You make sure to look back every once in a while to ensure he's still there. As much as he and you may not get along, you know how much he means to the group, and that's enough to want to keep him safe.

By the time you make it to the highway, your legs are aching from the distance. Abandoned cars litter the large street, dirty and broken, relics of the past. Here, the wind is stronger and you hold on tightly to Hyunjin. He switches from holding your hand to hooking arms, feeling more secure. The highway groans loudly from the wind and you have to crouch down to stop yourself from falling over the edge.

"Maybe we should stay put until the wind dies down!" Chaeryeong calls out, brushing hair out of her face. "It's not safe to continue!"

"As long as we walk in the middle, we should be fine!" Han passes you and Hyunjin, eyeing you as he does.

"No, Chaer is right," Chan stops the group. "Just for a little while. Then we can continue down the middle."

Biting his lip, and no doubt an argument, Han sits with his back against the van ahead of you with Chaeryeong and Felix. Hyunjin has an arm around you again, holding you close to him. The door to the car you're using as a shield is slightly ajar, and you can see the front seats are empty.

"Hey," You turn to Hyunjin. "Wanna sit inside? I think I can pry this open."

"Sure, it'd be a hell of a lot more comfortable than concrete," He laughs.

Sticking a larger knife into the opening, you pull back with your full body weight. The door comes swinging open, knocking you back against another car.

"Ta-da," You rub your head where it hit the opposing door. "Get in."

As Hyunjin starts to climb over the passenger seat, a blur of bodies comes tumbling out of the car, screaming and limbs flailing. It doesn't take long to register the infected attacking Hyunjin, and you're quick to grab the knife that you used for the door.

"Get the fuck off of him!" You shout, hopping onto it's back, wrapping an arm around it's neck to keep it from biting.

Stabbing now is too risky, too much of a chance of hitting Hyunjin with the way the infected is grabbing him. You kick it's arms, releasing the man under you and allowing him to roll to the side. The infected stands with you still on it's back, turning in harsh circles, and it takes everything in you to hold on. Your knife goes flying. As it attempts to scratch and grab at you, it begins getting closer to the edge.

"Someone shoot this thing!" You're starting to panic, unable to let go long enough to grab another knife.

Your bodies hit the edge, and you finally let go only to be caged in by the infecteds arms. It goes in for a bite, and you wrap your hands around its neck, holding it away the best you can. This thing is strong, teeth getting closer by the second. You're leaning half over the edge and your back cracks, which actually feels quite nice, but you're sure you'd enjoy it more if you weren't about to be breakfast.

Quick thinking, c'mon, where are you?

Bringing your leg up in the tight space between your bodies, you plant your foot on its chest and push, successfully getting its teeth away from you and-

And you're rolling over the edge. One hand barely latches onto the concrete wall, the rest of your body dangling over and you watch the infected looking down at you. Weird, the way it snarls and yells, but doesn't leap over or scratch at you or anything. You can hear shouting on the other side and the body falls limp, slipping over. As it falls, you twist your body so your shoulders hit the wall and the body moves right past you. Your arm is twisted painfully in the process, but you figure that's better than falling to your death, so. Two hands grab your slipping fingers and you reach up blindly, another set of hands helping you over.

"Thanks for the help guys," You say, voice dripping in sarcasm as Chan and Hyunjin move past you.

No one answers, staring over where you were just hanging onto dear life. Chan's shoulders are tense, hand holding the edge until his knuckles turn white. He's shaking his head and when Hyunjin looks at him, you see his mouth is wide open.

"I've never seen this many of them in one place," Chan speaks, and you join them.

"Oh," You gasp. "Oh my god."

Hundreds, if not thousands, of infected cover the highway running underneath the one you stand on, all heading in the same direction. The groaning you heard earlier comes not from the giant bridge, but from the bodies below, wailing and crying.

"Good thing we don't have to go down there, yeah?" Felix chimes in as the rest gather with you.

"Yeah," Chan says, eyebrows furrowed. "We need to keep moving."

---

notes ▪︎ so... continuing on foot, that'll go well, right? ...right?????

─── taglist (18+) : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @quokkabite @linosalwayslinos @reapers-lover @hyunjinslittlestar

[heartfullofleeches]

Could we maybe see the first meeting between fast food worker reader and the handpit

"Y/n! Some kid lost his teddy in the ball pit!"

You peel yourself from the breakroom chair with the minuscule amount of energy you had regained from it. You learned the first week on the job to never expect a moment of rest, but that didn't make losing precious break time any better.

The ball pit had been a pain since its reopening a full week back. Customers loosing precious items, child claiming to have been scared out of the pit by a scary monster. In defense of the first thing it probably isn't the greatest idea to wear great grandma's wedding ring to a restaurant where the police leaves the phone on the receiver when they call in.

You enter the main area. A parent shouts at the cashier while clutching a sniffing child's name; a glimmer of hope in their eyes as you walk out.

"This is exactly why I don't let my children into those disease pools! If you don't bring my son, his toy this entire franchise is going under!:

Your coworker's eyes water. You throw them a thumb's up as you pedal to the playarea. It's common knowledge you're in this nightmare together so most helped one another when they could.

The play area was your average child's environment. Overhanging tubes leading to a twisting slide. Colorful walls and statues of the mascot looming in watch. The ball pit. The windows to the parking lot had been painted over after similar reports of odd behaviors outside.

You walk over to the wall where the net for such occasions was stored, but it's gone. Figures. Nothing's easy around here. You pop your shoes off and squeeze them into a cubby as per comand of your commerical marketed overlord. You fish around at the top before doing as expected and climbing into the pit when you can't find it on the surface sweep.

The balls come up to your waist, but you can feel they go further than that as you kicking through them. The ball pit was as big as your average swimming pool, so you definitely had your work cut out for you. Better than being screamed at by customers from hell you suppose.

The search is gruelling. Each ball you push out of the way is replaced by a tidal wave of more. You unknowingly sink down to your chest as your frustration rises. It feels like the pit hasn't been cleaned in ages either. Some of the balls sticky and wet, and you're poked and stabbed at by objects were too thin and hard to be a plush bear-

What was that?

You freeze. A pocket forms in the sea of balls to your left, sucking the plastic orbs into themselves like a technicolor sinkhole. You figure its because you had previously just lift that area and swim forward. Something tugs on your pant's leg mid stroke, but your other foot kicks it away as you move. As the lights flicker you get the feeling someone is messing with you.

"Not funny!"

So much for being a team player. You better hurry and find this thing so you can head out early today. About tew feet in front of you, the bear's button eye watches your struggle. Stopping it, you dart towards it, but it sinks into the pit. It then reappears another foot away.

"What the hell.... This really isn't funny.."

You try again. It disappears. This time it teleports behind you. Stagnate in the spherical waters, you watch as the bear disappears and pops back within view in a different location. Sometimes it's at the end of the pit, sometimes it's mere inches away. This definitely isn't right. You need to get out of here. As you swim for the ledge, something drags you below.

You kick and flail, a scream fighting its way up your chest that you shove right back down to save energy. You can't breath. Your body feels weightless like you're swimming in a lake, yet the same air as falling out of the skin. Hands grab at various parts of yoir body. Items flash by as you're dragged further. Ancient photos, priceless watches- name tags.

As a hand wraps around your throat, you scream.

"You..."

Your plunge takes an abrupt stop.

"We did not recognize you at first, but that voice. It is unforgettable."

The hands turn you over. You can't tell if it's onto your back or your stomach. All you really can see is the plastic balls, but if you squint you can make out two white dots in the endless sea.

"So this is your face. We have only seen it in passing from your memories. How peculiar is man that in our eons of evaluation, your cerebrum is the single power that has twine our minds into one? In this "pit" of all things."

The hands stroke at your face; force your eyes to remain open. They carcass your tense form, easing your body but not your spirit. You want to cover your ears, but you can't. The voice is so loud; what feels like millions cramming into your small brain at volume which makes your teeth rattle with each syllable. In the same vein, it is the softest melody you've ever heard - splitting your fragile mind in two and sewing it together again with its gentle hush.

"You are different. You cannot enjoy us. The honor of being your new home would be wasted with your mind lost to the masses. You are to remain in this establishment until we decide what to do with you."

The hands center on your torso and push you upwards. Light pokes through the spaces between the balls as you're forced to the surface of the pit. The teddy bear lays on your chest as you surf atop the balls, staring down as if it's wondering the same thing as you.

What the fuck just happened

[ahllohehn]

Uh, here's the infodump of another hermitshipping AU I have no confidence I will finish. As another answer to Castor's ask

For all his life, Mumbo believed that he was difficult to love. Though, yes, he was quite tall, gentlemanly, and had a lovely mustache– features that would attract plenty of people, but that’s not enough to show the world how much of a mess he actually is.

He preferred work over playing, spectating over participating, making art instead of finding love… Yeah, Mumbo had long concluded that he wasn’t cut out for a married life at all.

So when someone as lovely as Grian came around saying; “I like you.” Mumbo found it hard to believe. 

At the time, Mumbo had thought that Grian approached him either out of pity or because some friend had dared him to. At least, the blonde man had <i> looked </i> like he was forced there, judging by the way he kept fidgeting on the spot and was so red in the face he couldn’t meet Mumbo’s eyes. So Mumbo, without even questioning anything else, had just agreed to go out with him in hopes that he would help out the man from whatever predicament he got himself in.

At the time, he thought the relief and surprise on Grian’s face had been a silent expression of gratefulness for Mumbo’s mercy- for just agreeing to date him to get things over with. The raven haired man thought that he was being a hero to the gentleman in distress.

Mumbo went through about 15 dates with the man, suppressing urges to actually fall in love, fully expecting Grian to eventually break up and fess up that he won the bet with his friends and that they could both finally go back to their individual boring lives.

Mumbo waited.

Waited even after he took Grian into his apartment after his family had kicked him out.

Waited even after the 5 cups of coffee he brewed for Grian when was having a particularly busy night for an architectural project.

Waited even after they were both able to get up on the stage and get their diplomas together.

Waited even after they celebrated getting their first jobs together.

Even after deciding to get a house together…

Even after deciding to sleep on the same bed…

Even after they exchanged vows…

And it was during dinner when Mumbo was zoning out did he realize; 

“Wait, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” he mumbled out in surprise, causing Grian beside him to raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“What wasn’t how it was supposed to go?”

Mumbo opened and closed his mouth, staring at his <i> husband </i> in disbelief. In disbelief that he isn’t in college anymore, that they weren’t just <i> “dating” </i> anymore. 

They’re literally both sitting here, eating warm dinner together, under the same house they both own, way past the newlywed stage, and not at all broken up like how Mumbo had expected since the start.

“When are you divorcing me?” he blurted out mid-thought.

A loud ‘CLANK’ rang out at the dinner table as Grian dropped his fork, causing Mumbo to flinch violently in reaction, before then proceeding to outright shiver in fear as Grian’s expression turned from confusion to something akin to incredulity.

It was then that Mumbo realized what he had just said.

“What did you just say?” Grian stared at him with widened eyes. Mumbo swallowed nervously and was failing to meet the other’s eyes. He needed to explain himself <i> quick.</i>

“I-it’s just, you know! Are you not unhappy with having to stick with me for this long? I would’ve thought–” Mumbo was cut off by a slam to the table. He would’ve gone on a tangent about how Grian must’ve made a mistake to stick with him for this long <i> 7 years </i> into their marriage, but he was at least smart enough to know not to continue that monologue. 

Not especially when Grian, who was rarely actually mad, was actually mad.

“Why on earth would you think that? What makes you <i> think </i> I think that?” Grian’s face was scrunched up in an offended manner, he kept an intense gaze on the taller’s figure, urging for an answer.

Mumbo’s shoulders were hiked up to his ears, “Didn’t you marry me out of pity?” His voice came out squeaky, almost as if even his lungs were scared to work under Grian’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Would I marry someone out of pity?!”

“M-Maybe?! Didn’t you just date me because you were forced to?”

Grian’s jaw dropped and he looked at Mumbo as if he grew a second head. He hunched over the table and buried his face into his hands, letting out an extremely tired sigh that made Mumbo hesitate on whether he should take back everything he said and go reach out to comfort the man.

Not that he was given a chance to, Grian didn’t even meet his eyes as he stood up snappily, the chair screeching against their floor, “Good heavens, I need a moment,” and so he left, stomping off to their shared bedroom and leaving a cold half-eaten plate of dinner on the table.

Mumbo stared at his own plate with dread.

It was when the loneliness he prepared himself to get used to long ago settled over the dining table did he realize his situation; he’s not as prepared as he thought he was for a lonely life and he pissed off Grian. Even worse, he probably hurt him.

Mumbo could’ve sworn his own wedding vows had said he promised he wouldn’t do that.

“Pants.”

<hr>

Mumbo was having a bad day, although that’s mainly his fault and his fault only.

He went to the studio earlier than usual. <i> 2 hours earlier </i> than usual, but that’s to be the case when you can’t really get any more proper sleep on a couch that’s smaller than your own person.

After spending a gruesome dinner alone (or rather sitting at the dinner table silently questioning your life before deciding to put the leftovers away and cleaning up), Grian had expectedly locked him out of their bedroom. Mumbo had to remind himself over and over again through an uncomfortable cold, blanket-less night that this was the consequence of his own actions so he has no right to complain. 

He found himself grateful for Grian who decided to unlock the bedroom door some time in the middle of the morning to let Mumbo have access to his clothes at least. Although it was uncomfortable to tip-toe around the bedroom to avoid awakening the sleeping monster on the bed while preparing for work.

The scariest part was actually finishing preparations and leaving the room, thinking you had completed the stealth mission successfully, only to find out you didn’t. He hadn’t known Grian was awake the entire time until he heard a soft call from the bed.

<i> “Aren’t you forgetting something?” the monster of the bed had said. </i> <i> Mumbo swallowed and lingered by the bedroom door, looking around nervously as if to truly put thought into his answer, “Um, g-g-good morning?” </i>

<i> “....” Grian pushed him out of the room and slammed the door on him. </i>

“I messed up even more,” Mumbo groaned in remembrance of the scene this morning and melted into his office chair, barely paying any attention to the emails on his monitor screen. He thought diving into work would distract him from reminding him of how he ruined his marriage, but the dullness of work just had him thinking even more than he did back at home.

Grian wasn’t around, so Mumbo’s brain finally had the space to worry more about the situation rather than worry about sneaking around his own house. It left him tired, adding to the fact that he barely has any sleep.

He was too tired to react even to the sound of someone knocking on his door frame before rudely stepping into his office anyway.

“Well, don’t you look horrible,” newly entered Iskall pointed out with a worried but amused grin, putting down a cup of coffee on Mumbo’s desk, right next to the other empty paper cups of coffee. 4 empty cups to signal just how much he’s been chugging since this morning.

Mumbo did look horrible, “I’m very aware,” His eyebags that had always been there looked a lot more prominent now. His usually styled hair was unruly, strands sticking out in all directions. He looked as if he was there working since 2 days ago, but really, he’s only been clocked in for almost 3 hours, “Just started the day wrong.”

“What? Woke up on the wrong side of bed or something?”

Mumbo winced and brushed his hair back, tugging at it in stress, “I didn’t even wake up on a bed.”

Iskall didn’t respond immediately, staring at Mumbo like he was trying to understand what he was getting at. When his brain did finally come to a conclusion with the small hints Mumbo presented, he put on a dramatic look of shock, “Have you finally reached that stage of marriage in which the wife punishes her unruly husband by making him sleep on the couch?”

The raven haired sent a deadpan stare over to Iskall’s direction, making the man backtrack and change his tone, “Serious situation? Alright, I’ll bite. What’s up with your oh-so-seemingly-perfect marriage?”

“I think I made Grian mad,” Mumbo wasn’t one to talk too much about his relationships, as it had no connection to his work whatsoever and he didn’t really want to attach himself to the relationship too much considering that he genuinely did think there was soon to be an ending to it.

But now, seeing that his <i> husband </i> was actually throwing an angry tantrum for a rare time of his life, his brain is suddenly throwing all other thoughts out the window. It was as if he’s just forgotten that he was <i> expecting </i> Grian to have an incentive to leave him, now just focused on making Grian feel better because some part of his brain went through an ick seeing the man so devastated.

“I-I was just… I questioned when he was filing for divorce because I thought he would’ve left me all those years ago already. I thought he was staying because he felt guilty enough to commit to the bit… or some sort.”

The way Iskall’s face scrunched up incredulity reminded Mumbo of how Grian did the same, “You went through college together, made your friends suffer your disgusting pining all throughout, graduated together, shared a kiss at the marriage altar, and you <i> still </i> actually think Grian has just been staying with you because he felt bad for you,” Mumbo nodded along.

“The entire decade he spent with you because you thought HE PITIED YOU?”

Mumbo hesitated before nodding again, but more sheepishly. Iskall looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, which made the raven haired even more embarrassed for some reason. Mapping it all out, he knows it’s all stupid, but he hardwired his brain to long expect the worst for himself already. Mumbo genuinely felt that there was no way someone as good as Grian was allowed in his life.

There should’ve been a better possible world where Grian is happier, only to be stopped by none other than himself.

“Geez, if I were your husband, I’d throw a fit over you bringing up divorce too. Even more when you seem like you’re encouraging me to do it after dedicating my entire life to you.”

“But you’re not my husband,” Mumbo said defensively.

Iskall raised his hands up in surrender, “Chill, dude. I’m no homewrecker. Grian would cut off a limb if I even begin to think you’re my type.”

Mumbo huffs, “You’re so unhelpful.”

“I just asked what’s up, not that I offered to give you actual advice.”

<i> Fair enough. He did say that. </i>

Seeing as the conversation was going nowhere, Mumbo rested his head on the table frustratingly, his brain continuing to work overtime on trying to find solutions or explanations to this situation. Iskall pitifully patted him on the back as he silently tried to get his life together again.

“Do you really think he cares enough?” Mumbo finally spoke, causing his co-worker to snap out of his own daze and looking at him questioningly. The mustached man rose up from his awkward position and reiterated his statement, “Does he actually care enough to cut off your limbs?”

Iskall took his arm back to his side and slowly backed out of the office, squinting his eyes at Mumbo suspiciously, “I don’t think you’re aware as to how much Grian truly cares…”

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, his eyes following Iskall backing away, “Wh- Where are you going? It’s not like he’d actually go and cut off your limbs. It was a hypothetical question!”

“You really aren’t aware,” and Mumbo wasn’t even given anymore time to react before Iskall ran out of his office like his life actually depended on it.

<hr>

[4ragon]

maybe a klapollo fluffy thing in which Klavier is afraid of meeting Mikeko bc he's heard that cat is a MENACE to anyone but Apollo and Mikeko just... Instantly likes him and bonds with him and that makes Apollo fall in love with Klavier even more (klav is part disney princess don't @ me)

“Alright, and you’re wearing long sleeves, right? I don’t want him scratching up your arms or anything.”

“Ja, for the last time, I am wearing a jacket.”

“And long pants, right? You’re wearing jeans?”

“Nein I thought I’d try cutoffs today, they go so well with my yes I’m wearing jeans.”

“Okay, and if he tries to make a break for it, just, do not let him through the door under any circumstances, alright—”

“Herr Forehead, please, I’m already nervous enough as it is,” Klavier shot back, knuckles white around the phone. “Just…I’ll call you back if anything happens, alright?”

“Right. Okay. Good. Great. Thanks, Klav.” There was a loud bang, and some shouting in the background, and Apollo cursed. “Stupid—whatever! I’ll be there in like an hour. Or two hours. Some amount of hours.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Klavier said. The elevator dinged, and he was on Apollo’s floor. “I’ll make sure Herr Kätzchen doesn’t starve while you’re in transit.”

“Thanks. Alright, bye.”

“Tschüss.” And with that, Apollo was gone.

Leaving Klavier standing outside Apollo’s flimsy apartment door.

Klavier took a breath. Alright. It was just one cat. He could do this, right? He was already supposed to be heading to Apollo’s place today; now he was just flying solo. Not the end of the world.

Klavier fiddled with the new key on his keyring for a second, before finally slipping it into the lock. He unlocked the door slowly, and then, in one fluid motion, he pulled the door open a crack and slipped inside.

Immediately, the cat that was trying to squeeze out into the hallway sprinted away.

“Ach! Sorry, Herr Kätzchen,” Klavier said, quickly locking the door behind him. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

No cat. Klavier glanced around. Well, no disaster so far. “Herr Kätzchen?” he tried, not expecting much. And then, with a shrug, he turned toward the kitchen.

Apollo had warned him this would happen. Mikeko was a bit shy, after all. Or, well, maybe the words had been ‘a complete bastard’ but Klavier decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. No scratching and hissing so far, so that was probably a win.

Klavier strode over to Apollo’s tiny kitchenette. Now, it wasn’t as if the place was very big, there weren’t many places the cat food could be hiding. It took a moment, but finally, Klavier found it on a bottom shelf. He swiped up the bag, turning.

There was a pair of eyes staring at him from part way out from under the couch.

Klavier froze. The cat froze. They stared at each other.

Admittedly, Klavier was a dog person, and had been for a long time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like cats, he just grew up around dogs. He knew dogs. He knew what noises and gestures a dog would make before snapping at his hands. Cats, however, were a mystery.

Said mystery just continued to stare at him. “H-Hallo, Kätzchen,” Klavier greeted, striding over toward the empty food bowl as he shook the bag of food. “Unfortunately, your normal chef is stuck in traffic on the other side of town. Hopefully I’ll do just as good of a job, ja?”

The cat crept closer as Klavier began to fill the bowl, before scurrying over as Klavier straightened up.

“There we go. Hopefully that’s enough.”

The cat ate quickly as Klavier returned the bag to its shelf. Then he sighed, cracking his back and making his way over toward the ratty couch in the middle of the room.

They were supposed to have a date night tonight, but Klavier had a feeling they would just order takeout when Apollo finally got there. Not the worst night he could’ve imagined.

A small mewl at his feet, and Klavier jumped, head snapping down. The cat was looking up at him with big eyes. Klavier froze. Was that good? Bad? Threatening? Friendly. “Kätzchen,” he greeted cautiously.

The cat mewled again.

Klavier glanced around. Was it trying to tell him something? Did he want Klavier to give him more food? Maybe he should let the cat smell his hand, that was what you did for dogs, right? “Do you need something, mein freund?” he asked, carefully holding out his hand.

The cat paused, sniffing Klavier’s hand. And then the cat lunged forward, rubbing its entire face against Klavier’s hand and making a low, rumbling sound.

Klavier froze.

///

“Okay, I’m home!” The door slammed shut behind Apollo as he sighed, hair drooping. “Can’t believe I had to pay for an uber in this mess. I swear, when I fix my bike chain—” And then he froze.

Klavier looked up at him, a look of wonder and panic on his face. Mikeko sat directly on Klavier’s chest, curled up and purring. “Herr Forehead is this good or bad?” he asked weakly.

“How did—wh—” Apollo gaped, mouth opening and closing. “...you little bastard, why the hell do you never want to cuddle me like that?!”

“...the cat or me?”

“Shut it.”

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

cupcake bet

pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

word count: 8239

warnings: angst (kinda), fluff, smut, established relationship, big dick daddy dom joon, oral sex (blow jobs), face-fucking, explicit language, edgeplay, deep throating, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, rough sex, spanking, doggy style, manhandling, degradation

AO3

A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

You and Namjoon had been dating for a couple of months and have done pretty much all of the typical relationship things.

Unfortunately, the relationship seemed to have become lifeless as of recently.

Due to no fault of either but because university life was kicking both of your asses and it was making it hard for the both of you to concentrate on anything other than studying, not being helped by the fact that you lived in a dorm room with a roommate, Yuna, while he lived off-campus with his friends, the majority of your conversations were reserved for simple texts as of recent.

Not wanting your relationship to turn into a shell of its former self, one night, while you were taking a much-needed break, you texted your boyfriend about how much you missed him and that you wanted to spend the next day with him without university looming over your shoulders.

Namjoon had taken so long to reply that you grew guilty over the fact that you were intruding on his busy life, but to your surprise, he agreed.

You planned on meeting after both of classes were over in your dorm room, which was perfect for you since you only have two two-hour classes in the early morning while your boyfriend had until three pm, which gave you more than enough time to take a nap and get ready before he showed up.

At least, that was your plan anyway.

Who knew that long barely sleepless nights, a decent and not rushed lunch, and not having anything to do would make you crash in your bed and sleep for almost four hours.

It would've been longer if it wasn't for Namjoon waking you up, by bumping his leg against your desk and letting many of your things fall on the floor.

You simply stared at him, deadpanned while he had an awkward smile, after all, you had gotten so used to Namjoon's clumsiness that you were only shocked when it didn't happen.

"Hey baby," he said, pressing a peck on your lips. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you said with a yawn and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. "Wait! How long was I out? Oh my god is it too late to go? You didn't have anything planned did you? Oh my god, I'm so sorry that I -"

"Baby, baby, baby, relax, it's fine," he said, taking your hand in his right hand and running his fingers through your hair with his left, calming you down.

Maybe the past couple of days really did a number on you.

"It's almost four, there's more than enough time for a date," he pulled away from you and leaned against your desk. "And no, I didn't plan anything. I didn't have anything specific in mind so I thought we would choose together."

You nodded as you sat in your bed. "Alright, any suggestions?"

"I don't know," Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest. "We could have a movie marathon, or go on a hike, or just take a walk on the beach."

"My brain's still catching up, no hiking," you said with a pout and running your fingers down his arm.

Namjoon stared into your eyes as his tongue passed over his lower lip, his eyes darkening with intent. "Do you know what time Yuna's supposed to be back?"

You knew that look like the back of your hand, you had been on the receiving end of it plenty of times, and it had been a long time since the two of you have been together like that.

"No, I don't know," you pretended to be clueless while playing with the hem of your shirt. "But I think she'll be gone for a while," you gave him a once-over before settling on his dragon eyes. "Why? Do you have something in mind?"

His hand brushed your knee before slowly and temptingly moving up your thigh, stopping at your clothed center before running down your thigh, something he kept doing again and again. You didn't stop him, his touch was sending a shiver down your spine, like electricity was filling your body.

"Nothing in particular. It's just that -"

"It's been a while," you interrupted breathlessly.

Namjoon gave you his fan-favorite dimple smile before being replaced by his smirk. "I can't get it out of my head, and there's only so much my hand can do before I start missing your wet cunt, wrapped nice and tight around my cock," you let out a whimper at his words.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Namjoon leaned down, brushing his lips against yours, your heart beating rapidly.

"Hey Y/N! You awake yet?" Yuna walked through the door, causing you and your boyfriend to separate in a flash and your roommate to look like a deer in the headlights at what she had stumbled upon. "Did I interrupt something? Cause I can leave and come back later."

"N-no it's - it's fine," you said playing with the hem of your shirt again, refusing to look at Yuna until the feeling of embarrassment passed, out of the corner of your eye you saw that your boyfriend's shoes were taking his sole attention.

"Right," she dragged the word as she settled her bag on her bed. "Well, whatever it was, I'll be out of your hair in an instant," she moved towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her. "Just came to change my clothes."

Despite being left alone once again, you and Namjoon didn't talk, preferring to wait until Yuna left the room before continuing your conversation.

You looked around the room as you waited, your eyes falling on a box on top of Yuna's bed, a box you easily recognized due to how many times your roommate tended to buy from there. "Can I take one of the cupcakes?"

"Sure, there's coffee too" she yelled through the other side of the door.

You were up before she finished, silently asking your boyfriend if he wanted one, which he declined with a smile on his lips, choosing instead to do whatever on his phone. "Sugar has always been your weak spot,"

You stick out your tongue at him before turning back to the cupcake box, opening it, and taking one with buttercream frosting sprayed with multicolored sprinkles, pulling out a flyer for the shop in the process so you'd have to look at while eating, then you grabbed one of the coffee cups and returned to your bed.

In true you fashion, you eat all the frosting first before starting with the cake, taking gulps of coffee in between.

"I can't believe you finished all the frosting," Namjoon said teasingly.

"It's the best part," you pretended to be offended. "And the cake is really good! I eat one and then I eat the other."

"You're supposed to eat a bit of the frosting and a bit of the cake with each bite,"

"Who are you, the cupcake police?" you throw the coffee cup into the bin next to your desk before staring at your boyfriend with mock defiance.

"Ha-ha-ha, very funny," he said rolling his eyes. "But no, it's just better that way. It's a question of balance," he went on smartly. "The cake can be too dry and the frosting alone is too sweet."

"Too sweet? This coming from the man who said that when the world ends we need cotton candy makers?" you had to fight the urge to keep the shit-eating grin off your face at his flushed reaction. "My way works for people with small mouths, you know? Not everyone is privileged enough to be born with everything big like you."

You saw Namjoon's eyes darken for a quick second before Yuna walked out of the bathroom. "Please don't talk about things like that while I'm still around,"

You decided to focus on finishing eating the cupcake, refusing to look at your roommate, while your boyfriend tried not to laugh, taking the flyer from your hand and giving it a look.

The room fell into silence for five minutes until Yuna left the room.

"Apparently the Cafe is hosting a workshop on how to learn to make cupcakes in about an hour,"

"Perfect! We're going to be able to put your great cupcake science to good use!" you cleaned the crumbs off your lap, stood up from your bed, and walked towards your closet, wanting to change your clothes. "You'll be able to tell them that their cupcakes are too dry."

Namjoon snorted. "I didn't say they were too dry," he crossed his arms over his chest. "I said that without the frosting…" you looked at him with a frown and a pout, resulting in your boyfriend raising his arms in surrender, dropping the subject with a smile on his lips. "Is that what you want do to as a date?"

"Yeah, I think it'd be fun and new," you said with a shrug and stepped close to him. "Unless you have any other ideas?"

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and giving the top of your head a peck. "I think it'd be fun. Also, I'm in a mood for cupcakes,"

You couldn't resist teasing him. "You sure? Jin said you're not allowed in a kitchen without any adult supervision,"

In response Namjoon simply gave a smack on your ass, causing you to jump slightly and let out a gasp. "Go change, I'll call and make sure there are still spots left."

You walked to your closet, pulled out a dress, and went to the bathroom.

Your dress wasn't flashy or anything, you actually considered it to be quite simple. However, it hug your physique amazingly well, with special attention on your assets, sleeveless, showing a little bit of cleavage, and finishing just a little bit below your bottom.

It was most definitely not a dress for simply going to a cupcake workshop, but you wanted to tease your boyfriend, just a little bit, a taste of what he could get if he wanted to continue what Yuna interrupted.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you stepped out of the bathroom.

Your dress had the reaction you were looking for, with Namjoon's eyes going wide as he looked at you up and down.

Feeling smug, you gave a little twirl, allowing him to observe you from every angle, especially giving him a really good look at your backside, while trying to fight off the smirk on your lips. "How do I look?"

"That's…," he cleared his throat. "It looks good on you. Excellent choice." his voice was a bit strained.

Adorable, you thought to yourself as you walked passed him and towards the door, opening it for him. "Coming?"

Without any words, Namjoon walked past you and you were quick to follow, closing the door behind you. As the both of you walked in silence, you slid your arm through your boyfriend's. He didn't say anything, he simply smiled.

Luckily for you, the walking distance between the campus and the cafe wasn't long, so it didn't take you more than thirty minutes to arrive.

Once inside, the first thing you noticed was that there weren't many people around, and you couldn't tell if they were there for the workshop and just making time until the hour hit, or if they were just regular paying customers.

"Hi! My name is Woojin!" your attention was pulled to the guy who showed up in front of you, without you even noticing. He seemed to be about your age, and from his get-up, clearly an employee. "Did you call to book the cupcake workshop?"

"Yeah! We found the flyer and thought it would be fun," you gave him your friendliest smile, while Namjoon kept quiet, from the corner of your eye you saw him eyeing Woojin up and down. "Your cupcakes are really delicious, so we're taking this as an opportunity to learn."

"Oh, thanks. That's nice of you to say," you saw the employee's cheeks flushing at the compliment. And if your boyfriend standing up straighter was anything to go by, he noticed it too. But Woojin was quick to recompense himself. "Well, I hope that at the end of the workshop, you'll be able to make ones that are almost as good. Of course, we'll still going to keep a few manufacturing secrets," he said, winking at you. "We need to keep selling after all."

"Of course," you said with a small giggle. "In that case, I'd be very surprised if we made them so well on the first try."

"Still, cupcakes shouldn't be that hard to make, right?" Namjoon finally decided to say something, clearly not happy with the obvious flirting coming from the employee.

"Even if my friend thinks he's very good with his hands," you said very smugly, but from the moment of silence that followed afterward, you knew both men had caught the double meaning of your words.

Your boyfriend cleared his throat. "It's… a joke between us. Ignore her," you smirked at him but Namjoon simply rolled his eyes.

Before you could say anything else, a woman, who seemed to be either in her late thirties or early forties, came out of the back room. She had dyed blonde hair and, a shirt and skirt clinging to her figure so tightly that you wondered how she managed to get in them. Hell, she was showing so much cleavage that you, making you wonder why she even bothered wearing a shirt in the first place.

"Ah! Someone finally came. Fantastic!" she emphasized the last word as her gaze ran over your boyfriend. You couldn't help the frown showing on your face. "My name is Saebom and I'm the owner of this establishment," she didn't take her off of Namjoon as she spoke in a sweet sultry voice."And you are?"

"I'm Namjoon, and I came with Y/N,"

The owner flashed him a greedy smile, never taking her eyes off him. "Come with me! We're going to set up in the kitchen," she went back inside through the door she had come out, with Woojin right behind her.

"Someone has a crush on you," you whispered in a sing-song way.

"Was about to say the same," he said in a very disinteresting way.

"He was just being nice," you said, swinging your head from side to side with every word. "It was just some harmless flirting between employee and customer, nothing more," you shrugged. "You know, like the one Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook do every time they wanna get free drinks."

"Did you forget that they tend to take the bartender home? Or the bathroom,"

"My point is, is that it meant nothing," he simply let out a ' hmph ' at your words. "Someone's jealous."

Namjoon snorted. "Oh please, you think I didn't see the way you were looking at her," you pouted. "The stank eye you were giving said more than words ever could."

"I just felt it was rude of her to ignore the other people in the room," you said matter-of-factly.

He didn't buy it but decided to drop the subject. "Tell me, I'm thinking of spicing things up a bit," The glint in his eyes told you something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

But it did intrigue you. "I'm listening,"

"How about a small bet? On which one of us can make the most beautiful cupcake?"

You raised a brow at him. "And the stakes?"

"The same as usual, the winner dares the other to do something," with the smile he was giving you, you didn't lack any imagination on what kind of dares he was thinking of.

Bets were a usual occurrence in the BTS household, one you were easily pulled into when you and Namjoon first started dating. Surprisingly enough, this was the first time a bet between the two of you had ever gone in this direction.

And you were loving it.

You slid your index finger down his chest while biting your bottom lip. "I almost wanna let you win, just to see what you're thinking of,"

His smile widened even more, giving you a good look of his dimples. "We can cancel if you want -"

"I said almost," you interrupted. "I have every intention to win."

"At least I tried," he pulled you closer, giving you a peck on the head before letting go and walking through the kitchen door. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

You followed behind and entered the kitchen, finding Woojin and Saebom standing side by side behind a metal counter.

"While I get everything ready, please get settled. Namjoon, stand there, right across from me," she guided him behind her table, feeling up his arm the entire time. On his part, Namjoon seemed slightly taken aback by the sudden contact.

You tried not to laugh, but your shaking shoulders betrayed you. Since Saebom hadn't said anything to you, you settled across from Woojin.

"Just a moment, we're going to take out all the necessary ingredients and utensils," she walked away, followed by her employee.

"I'm scared," your boyfriend whispered as he leaned closer to you.

"Really? Why?" you on the other hand spoke at a natural volume.

"Did you see the way she looked at me?" he looked at you in pure amusement. "I'm afraid she'll think I'm her snack-time cupcake."

"Hahaha," you covered your mouth with your hand. "I thought you liked female attention."

"I have my limits," he said exasperated, which made you snort. But Namjoon quickly composed himself and gave you a smirk. "Just promise me you won't have a fit of jealousy, okay?"

"You think too highly of yourself," you played with your nails, pretending his words didn't have some sort of effect on you.

Unfortunately for you, Namjoon could see right through you, so he simply gave you a peck on the cheek. "You have nothing to worry about, your attention is all I want,"

Before you had a chance to reply your teachers of the hour returned, their arms full of all sorts of kitchen utensils and ingredients. Eggs, milk, butter, baking powder, sacks of flour and sugar, and other ingredients were laid out in front of you.

"First, we'll start with the aprons," she handed each of you an apron, which you both put on. "Do you need help Namjoon? Wait, don't move," Saebom walked around the counter to tie your boyfriend's apron, taking her sweet time doing it too. Namjoon gave you a helpless look but you simply shrugged.

In any other circumstances, you'd be jealous, obnoxiously so, but right now you found this entire situation nothing short of amusing.

And suddenly a lightbulb lit up inside your mind.

His little comment about jealousy had really gotten to you. Namjoon, well the BTS boys in general, were always surrounded by girls who always had a sliver of hope that might have a shot with them. And it got on your nerves quite a lot of times that he would simply let them.

But when the shoe was on the other foot, and there were a couple of guys trying to get your attention, he was always as cool as a cucumber. Not even when the other guys flirted with you right in front of him.

You never really had an opportunity to see him jealous.

So you decided that maybe now was the time.

As if it were a sign, you caught Woojin looking at you at that very moment, of which he immediately looked away and coughed, his cheeks turning rosy. Maybe Namjoon had been right when he said you had caught the employee's eye. Expect he, at least, seemed to have more decency than his boss. You almost felt sorry that you were pulling an innocent person into this little game.

"Woojin, can you help me with mine too please?" you caught Namjoon looking at you out of the corner of his eyes, not shocked at your words but clearly surprised, at least if his raised brow was anything to go by. The young employee nodded, avoiding your gaze and blushing slightly. He walked around the counter to help you, his hands working quickly around your hips to tie the apron, clearly not taking him as long as Saebom was taking.

You finally decided to meet your boyfriend's gaze. His attention was solely on you, and given his slightly furrowed eyebrows, clearly not happy about it. "Seriously? Do you really want to play that game?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you shrugged, fighting the shit-eating grin that was desperately trying to form on your lips.

He, however, did not with the one on his lips. "Alright, let's play," his tone of voice sounded so smug. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Right back at you,"

You saw the incomprehensible expressions appear on Woojin's and Saebom's faces, no doubt wondering what that little exchange had been about. But the owner quickly composed herself.

"Perfect! It suits you really well," she said giving his arm another squeeze before moving about back to the other side of the counter. "Now, you'll see that it's not very complicated to make cupcakes."

"The main thing is to put a lot of love into it," you held back from rolling your eyes. "You'll start by taking a bowl and mixing the sugar with the softened butter," following the instructions, you didn't find it too complicated so far. Namjoon also seemed to be doing okay so far. "Then add the eggs, and then the flour, baking powder, and salt. And then we mix well! Above all, we don't want any lumps."

Now this was the part you knew full well your boyfriend would have the most difficulty. He was a very strong man but also very accident-prone, especially in the kitchen.

"Oh! Careful Namjoon, I still see some lumps," to say you were surprised would be an understatement.

Namjoon looked at you helplessly before something sparked in his eyes, probably remembering the bet if you had to take a guess, of which he started mixing the ingredients again, purposely poorly you may add, for a couple of seconds before giving up with a sigh. "I feel like there are still some left, would you kindly help me?"

"Of course! Wait, let me see," Namjoon looked at you with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Saebom got behind him and placed her hand on his. "Here! See, you just have to get the movement right. It takes a bit of energy, but as muscular as you are, that shouldn't be a problem."

You knew he was doing it on purpose, but you still had to stifle a chuckle. She was distracting him more than she was helping.

You started this game, he had no reason to play fair, especially with a dare on the line. And you knew how to play too.

"Woojin, I could really use a hand too. If you don't mind," you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and spoke softly.

"Sure," there was that blush again. "Want me to show you how it's done?"

"Yes, please, I still have a lot of lumps," you tried in the most outrageously languorous voice possible. "And you look like you're good with your hands." you glanced at your boyfriend and saw him clench his jaw.

"I - I'm… Anyway, I guess I am, as far as baking goes," Woojin came next to you and showed you how to mix the batter. He clearly remembered the earlier comment if the flush on his cheeks was anything to go by.

And that was the way you wanted it. "Oh wow, you have a great technique. It's very impressive!"

He gave a small chuckle. "It comes with experience. Try it, you'll see you'll get the hang of it pretty fast,"

"Yes, I'm sure you have a lot of experience," you had the subtlety of a brick to the face, but seeing the look Namjoon was giving you was all that mattered.

Woojin, on the other hand, was having as much trouble as your boyfriend trying to stay focused. Poor guy, he looked like he didn't even know where to stand anyone.

"There, let yourself go Namjoon. You have to put your heart into it," damn, you had completely forgotten about her. "That's it, a little bit harder," Woojin looked at you a little embarrassed, and you thought you weren't being subtle.

"Hmm, there, I think it's - It should be good now," she let go of him and took a second to regain her composure. "There, it's perfect! Now all you have to do is add the milk and vanilla, and then divide the mixture into the molds."

You both did that in just a minute. Afterward, both Saebom and Woojin put the molds in the oven.

"Now we wait for about twenty minutes," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Then, you'll have to do the most technical part, frosting and decorations. In the meantime, I'll take care of the cafe," she looked at her employee. "Woojin, before taking your break, please seat our guests for a tasting while the cupcakes are baking."

The young man nodded, taking you out of the kitchen and seating you at a table in the middle of the place. Giving each a cookie and a hot chocolate, on the house, before walking back into the kitchen.

However, before he left, he gave you an indefinable look. Of which you gave a small wave with a little wink. Then with a quick glance at Namjoon, Woojin disappeared through the door.

Saebom, on her part, pretended to follow her employee before stopping to turn at your boyfriend. She put her hand on his arm, smiling wholeheartedly. "I'll be right back. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me."

Namjoon smiled back, placing his hand over hers, his gaze seductive. "Thank you very much, I'll do that," you simply rolled your eyes at the words.

When the door closed behind her, your boyfriend turned to you. "That Woojin seems to have really caught your eye,"

"He's pretty nice," you played dumb, glad to see your plan was working.

Namjoon was doing his best to hide it, but you could tell he didn't like it one bit. "Yeah, you're being very nice to him too,"

"Oh, I'm sorry, does that bother you? That maybe you're having a hard time fully concentrating on your cupcake?" you gave him your best cheshire grin. "I think that's called jealousy."

He snorted. "It's a good thing that Saebom is there to comfort me,"

You snorted, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. "I'm under the impression that it's Saebom that's doing all the work,"

"What I can say," he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "She loves a man with little experience."

"If only she knew the truth about you," you said giggling.  You were liking this game of yours a little bit too much, and why shouldn't you? It seemed like you were the clear winner. And you intended to take full advantage of it.

"Well, I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it a lot," you took another sip. "I can almost see your hair stand whenever she gets close to you," you started playing with your cookie, he wasn't looking at you but you knew he was listening. "Luckily for me, Woojin is pretty cute."

Namjoon clenched his jaw and gave a deep sigh. "If you think you're going to win like that," he looked at you, his eyes were dark and dangerous. "You're seriously mistaken."

You wouldn't deny that the way he was looking at you was making you hot and bothered, making you straighten your back while rubbing your thighs together. Namjoon seemed to have noticed, giving the smirk he was throwing your way.

He turned back to his phone. "It's a losing strategy, it takes too much effort to make puppy dog eyes at him," he said matter-of-factly. "You're going to mess up your cupcake while it has no effect on me," he looked at you again, pinning you to the spot, his voice getting deeper. "Because I know you're doing it on purpose."

You shrugged and tried to emulate the look he was giving you. "We'll see,"

His ringtone suddenly rang out. Whoever was calling him, he didn't look too happy about it given his frown. "Sorry, I have to take this. It'll only be five minutes," he left to take the call outside.

In your case it was still break time, so you stayed alone at the table, finishing the rest of your snack. You were sure Namjoon was jealous, after all, he made the comment about Woojin as soon as you sat down. That's proof that your strategy was working. He says it makes you distracted, but you're pretty sure he is more distracted than you.

And you don't intend to stop now.

Now that you thought about it, you needed to think about the kind of dares you wanted to give to him. Should you go for something nice and romantic? Or something a little bit stupid and embarrassing?

Hmmm… You'll think about it later, right now you needed to win first. And to do that you needed to think about how you were going to decorate the cupcake. So with whatever time you had left, you spent it brainstorming topping decorations.

As soon as Namjoon returned from his call, the owner came out, saying it was time to go back to the kitchen.

Saebom was touching Namjoon's elbow as she talked to him, while Woojin took the cupcakes out of the oven and placed them on the counter. Neither of the cupcakes looked particularly better than the other.

However, you still found funny that, even with the owner doing almost everything for him, she clearly wasn't focused on the task. At least you had the excuse of having a student instead of the teacher.

And although yours certainly wasn't the best, you still took the opportunity to brush Woojin's hand while smiling at him. "They're very beautiful, thanks for your help,"

Of course, Namjoon noticed but acted as if nothing had happened.

Perfect!

You still had the advantage, and you knew it would drive me crazy.

You tackled decorating for what felt like an hour.

Saebom spent the entire time touching Namjoon, taking every opportunity to touch him, take his hand, feel his arm. And of course, laugh out loud at his attempts at humor.

But you counterattacked by flirting shamelessly with Woojin, following Saebom's example of seizing every opportunity to get close to him. Laughing out loud at his slight clumsiness, twirling your hair around your finger, coos and compliments whispered in a languorous voice, making sure to ask for his help at each step.

And right now, hopefully for the finishing blow, swooning over his talent with the piping bag. "Woojin, that frosting looks really delicious," you took some on the tip of your finger and licked it slowly, with greed, method, and application.

It was fairly obvious what you were mimicking, which would explain the way Namjoon's eyes had widened at your audacity. And you probably affected poor Woojin as well, who had let out a shaky breath while not daring to look at you. He seemed more captivated than ever on the frosting preparations.

Even though you had done everything during this session to keep your boyfriend's attention on you, you never thought you'd have the boldness to go so far.

And a big part of you felt a little ashamed of yourself. Not only because you'd made a big deal out of it, but also because you had dragged a sweet and honest guy who was just trying to help into your shenanigans.

You could feel the poor man struggling to keep his professional front, frequently glancing awkwardly at Namjoon, who for his part, just kept clenching his jaw silently.

The small victory of having the intended effect on Namjoon felt incredibly weird, even if you had to admit to yourself that you were having a lot of fun putting up the act.

When the cupcakes were finished, Saebom clapped her hands. "Wonderful! I congratulate the both of you, they're lovely!" she turned her back to you. "I'll wrap them up from you and you can take them home."

You paid for the workshop while she packed your cupcakes in two small boxes, putting each in a paper bag.

Final call, yours was definitely the worse of two evils. The rest of the boys will never let you hear the end of it once they find out that Namjoon bestest you at making food. Especially Jin.

Afterward, she walked you out, a big smile on her face. "Don't hesitate to come back, the door is always open! Have a good evening,"

As she went back inside the cafe, you and your boyfriend turned towards each other. And Namjoon was definitely not happy.

On the outside, he was the picture perfect of calm, but those dragon eyes of his told a completely different story. There was something angry in those eyes, the likes of which you don't remember ever seeing before.

It scared you a little bit, if you were to be completely honest, it was too unknown for you. "Hehehe, at least I managed to distract you just a little bit, right?" you said awkwardly, trying to liven up the mood.

Unfortunately, it didn't work since Namjoon couldn't even be bothered to give you a pity smile.

You hoped that the evening air on the walk back to your dorm would help calm him down, even if just a little bit.

"Hum, E - excuse me, hum… Y/N,"

Shit!

Before you had the chance to walk away, Woojin came out of the cafe. And if Namjoon's looks could kill, the poor guy would be dead on the spot.

"When you first arrived I thought the two of you were a couple, but maybe I was wrong," he scratched the back of his head, clearly nervous. "I'm not very good at these things," he had a flush on his cheeks. "But I think… I… Anyway, here's my number."

You could feel Namjoon tense up as Woojin gave you the business card of the cafe with his number scribbled on it. And if you were hoping that your boyfriend would calm down before, that hope had gone straight to the trash.

"Um, thanks," you accepted the card, not knowing what else to do that would turn this weird situation any better.

"I hope it's not inappropriate," he gave a very awkward chuckle. "I'm really sorry if it is," he was looking at his feet now, the poor guy. "Of course, you can always throw it away. G - Goodbye."

He had spoken and disappeared into the cafe so fast that your brain needed to take a couple of seconds to catch up, while Namjoon was staring at the door with murder in his eyes. If you had felt weird about the situation before, now it was like you were drowning in an ocean of guilt.

You definitely had taken it too far.

"Wanna eat them at my place?" Namjoon finally spoke in a detached tone. "That way we can end this and see who will give the dare."

You felt your heart sink. This afternoon, this dumb game between you had been one big mistake from your part. You bit your bottom lip and nodded, following him in complete silence. Namjoon was walking beside you, brow slightly furrowed.

You wished you knew what he was thinking. "Are you thinking about your dare?" you spoke quietly and softly, wanting to break the quiet atmosphere. His eyes looked deeply into yours and he bit his lip but didn't give any answer.

And you didn't bother trying to break the silence again.

The sun had already disappeared by the time you arrived at the front of his building. He opened the door for you, letting you inside before taking the lead when going up the stairs, with you following behind. With each step, your heart was beating hard and fast against your chest, so much so that the sound completely muffled any other noises in your ears.

Still, without a word, he opened the door to the apartment and let you in. It was surprisingly empty given that seven people lived there. As you entered the apartment, you set the paper bags on the table in the middle of the living room. You heard the door close behind you, and a second later, the sound of the lock turning.

You turned around, finding Namjoon leaning against the door staring at you, brow furrowed and jaw clenched. There was something animal-like in his eyes, it was both scaring you and turning you on.

"Did you have fun?" his voice was an octave lower. "Did you like that? Making me jealous?" He took a step towards you, making you take a step back. "Did you think that seeing you act like a slut would drive me crazy?"

Every time he took two steps closer, you took one back, trying to create some sort of distance.

"I just - I wanted - You never really acted jealous, I just wanted to…" You only stopped once your legs hit the foot of his bed, causing you to fall backward and let out a gasp in surprise. When did you enter his room?

He closed the door behind him, a bit more forcefully than probably intended, and continued to stalk towards you. You were pretty sure he could see the wet patch in your panties if the smirk on his lips was anything to go by, the tent on his pants being clearly visible.

"I hope you're ready to take full responsibility for your actions," he was a few feet away from you, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his zip down.

You bit your bottom lip, wanting to play dumb for a little bit. "Hmm, what am I responsible for?"

He came closer, set his hands on your thighs, his face was inches away from yours and his gaze was burning with desire.

In a flash, he took hold of your legs and pulled you towards him, causing you to lay down and your dress rise, fully exposing your underwear, wrapping them around his hips, and making your crotches rub against each other.

You moan softly at the feeling, closing your eyes at a sensation you haven't felt in a long time.

Unfortunately, Namjoon didn't let you enjoy it for too long before pulling away from you.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you stared at him with a pout and a frown, but he didn't seem to care and simply took his shirt off, immediately turning your frown upside down as you indulged yourself in the image of the honey gold chiseled chest and hard muscled arms.

One of his large hands settled on your face, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at his dark dragon eyes as his thumb rubbed your bottom lip. With his other hand, he took hold of your right hand and placed it on his clothed crotch, making you fondle his needy cock. He leaned closer to your ear and whispered in a deep languorous voice. "For making daddy this hard for you,"

He pulled away from you again, and this time you followed behind, trying to get a grasp of the touch back. Almost as if hypnotized, you didn't notice until you fell off the bed and landed on your hands and knees on the floor, right in front of him.

You looked up at him, seeing him already looking at you with a raised brow, waiting for your next move.

You were like a worshiper looking up at its God, waiting for its blessing. And God, you were nothing if not a dutiful follower for him.

"Yes, daddy" you said breathlessly. "I'm ready to take full responsibility."

Smugly pleased, Namjoon beckoned you forward with a come hither gesture and you obeyed, crawling to him all the while keeping your eyes glued to his. You stopped once you were close enough, waiting for your next instruction.

"On your knees babygirl," you lifted your top half and made quick work of pulling his pants and underwear all the way down, when his cock sprung up your tongue passed over your lips while keeping your eyes on him.

His hand graced your hair for a few seconds before settling behind your head. "Open," you did as told as he brought your head closer to his length, painting your lips with his leaky tip before shoving his cock inside until your nose was rubbing against his pelvis.

You gagged at the sudden intrusion but kept your hands to yourself, your nails digging into the palm of your hands to help endure the early discomfort you tended to have due to his size every time you took him.

Namjoon thrusted into your mouth as he guided your head to meet his movements. His pace gaining speed with each thrust. All the while, he kept his eyes on you.

"My good girl, letting daddy fuck her throat raw," he grunted in pleasure, the messy picture of your eyes starting to tear up, your hollow cheeks with spit running down its corners, was getting him even harder.

But he wasn't as lost in the feeling of your mouth, he still hadn't forgotten about your little game, and the thought of it was enraging all over again. "Bet you wish it was someone else's cock down your throat." A whimper escaped you as you were pulled out of the moment, confused by his words.

"Bet you wish it was Woojin who was here," his thrusts gained a ferocious strength and speed. "Bet you wish it was his tiny dick in your mouth," you shook your head to the best of your abilities, telling him no, by now the tears in your eyes leaving freely. "Really? Then why were you acting like such a pathetic little slut?"

Subconsciously, you started rubbing your thighs, however, that act didn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend. "Tsk, such a fucking whore," the grip on your hair tighten and pulled you out of him. "Getting wet thinking of Woojin filling your needy cunt, are you?"

"N-no," you said through tears, still on your knees for him. "I-I only want daddy."

Namjoon leaned down until he was close enough for you to feel each other's breath, grazing his lips against yours but never pressing them together, much to your frustration. "Prove it," he whispered, his voice so deep that it sent shivers down your spine.

Letting go of your hair, you quickly stood up and moved towards the bed, removing your underwear in the process. Then, you took a seat on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs so he could see how wet you were, and throwing your panties at him.

He stomped towards you, his dark dragon eyes showed a hint of amusement at your actions, but that still didn't stop him from grabbing you by the neck and forcing you to look at him.

Namjoon leaned down again but this time, he gave a gentle bite to your bottom lip before smashing his to yours. It was a heated and tough kiss, hungrily devouring each other's lips and swallowing whatever noise the other made, the hand on your throat squeezing it here and there.

With a harsher bite to your lip, which caused you to gasp, he shoved his tongue inside, dominating yours very easily. He pulled away from your lips but kept the hand on your throat, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Hands and knees babygirl," he gave a nip to your earlobe as he whispered the words, stepping away from you afterward.

You did as told, crawling on your hands and knees until you were a little over the middle of the bed, with Namjoon moving right behind you, standing on his knees as he knead your ass with one of his hands, while the fingers of the other were rubbing the wetness around your slit.

He inserted two fingers into you, thrusting them slowly, making you let out soft moans. "Do you like it when daddy does this?" he added another finger, curling them precision against your sweet spot.

"Yes," you moaned breathlessly, starting to move your hips in tune with his hand, for he was moving too slow for you. "Please daddy, I want more."

"Hmm," he stopped thrusting but let his fingers remain inside you. "Do you think you deserve it, after what you did?" he removed his fingers and used them to pinch your clit, causing you to yell at the sensation.

"D-daddy!" He ignored you, choosing instead to stroke his fingers through your back. You thought nothing of it until you heard the sound of fabric tearing. Namjoon had grabbed your dress by its edges and ripped it apart from top to bottom, throwing the item onto the floor with a certain disdain. "Hey-"

Before you could complain, you felt a hard hit on your ass, quickly followed by three others in a row, making you let out gasps and cries at the smacks. "I'll buy you a new one," he growled, giving you one more smack before lining himself to your entrance and thrusting full force inside of you, making you take every inch of his large cock all at once.

You yelled at the sudden intrusion, not expecting your boyfriend to start so rough. His hands settled on your hips with a tightening grip, drawing himself back until only the tip remained before slamming into you with as much force as the first time, making you arch your back.

His pace rough but deep, his tip continuously brushing against your cervix. "Do you like this baby? Do you like taking daddy's big, fat cock?"

"Y-yes," you moaned out, your nails digging into the bedsheet, just so you could have something to hold on to.

"Oh really?" his pace started to slow down but remained deep. "Then why were you whoring yourself to Woojin?" He didn't give you a chance to reply, as he gained speed and started jackhammering into your cunt.

His name falling out of your lips mixed with moans and whimpers, his groans and grunts, and the sound of lewd squelching as his skin slapped against yours was bringing you closer to your high. You could do nothing other than to take his unrelenting assault on your pussy, you weren't sure if your brain was still functional but you knew no other sound would leave your lips other than moans.

"Did you like the attention he gave you baby?" his thumb started rubbing circles on your clit. "Do you think he'd be able to fill you up like daddy does?"

"N-no," you tried to reply, your voice hoarse. You could feel yourself getting closer to your high, and from the way your walls clenched around his length, Namjoon could tell as well, which is why he stopped all movement. Your orgasm disappearing bit by bit, tears of frustration started falling. "D-daddy please."

With a snap of his hips, Namjoon started his relenting pace once more, moving with such force that the bedframe started hitting the wall.

"Your cunt was made for me babygirl," Namjoon started to feel his own end approaching, and yet, despite his pace started to falter, he was still going with a wild and bruising pace. "No other cock will be able to get you like this."

"D-daddy, p-please," you couldn't hold on anymore, you felt like you were about to burst. "I c-can't," a loud whimper escaped you, interrupting your weak words.

"Cum baby," he kept switching between rubbing and pinching your clit. "Cum all over daddy's cock, show him who's the one that gets you this fucked."

You cried out you reached your climax, releasing all over him. Your top half dropped onto the bed, you felt so tired and weak to stand on your hands, even if you wanted to. With your walls trapping him inside, it wasn't long until you felt him stiffen against you and paint them.

You let out a whimper as he pulled out of you. Your legs fell on the bed, not being able to hold them up any longer, and Namjoon lay down beside you, panting as he pulled you closer to him.

"You okay?" his thumb started rubbing circles on your hip. "I wasn't too rough?"

You kissed his arm, feeling too tired to reach his lips. "My- My legs are shaking," you gave him a sleepy smile and got one of his dimpled ones as a reply. "I should get jealous more often."

He snorted. "I don't my heart could take going through that shit again," he planted a peck on your head. "I don't think my bed can either."

You giggled softly and closed your eyes, not being able to keep them open any longer. Namjoon didn't say anything else either, he simply cuddled you and every couple of seconds would kiss a part of either your head or hand.

It wasn't long until you fell asleep, feeling more tired and content than you'd been in days.