#wc : 7k+

[eastonapologist]

wtf i actually wrote something again . anyways ghost john au <3

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

LUCKY JUMBO LUCKY JUMBO LUCKY JUMBOOOOOOOOOOOOO

LUCKY JUMBOOOOOOO

[kflixnet]

New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Sara's oneshot!

one and the same | k.mg

pairing: mingyu x f!reader - friends to lovers genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, hurt/comfort word count: 7.6k summary: mingyu only had eyes for gyuri, and you only had eyes for mingyu warnings: mentions of alcohol and food a/n: it's been a really long time since i posted anything at all, so this is almost new lol. huge thanks to @joonsytip who not only was my beta for this one, but also read each paragraph as i wrote it. i hope you like it!!

You lowered the camera in your hands, your eyes focusing on the man at the end of the porch, on his furrowed eyebrows, crossed arms over his chest, and the redness at the tip of his ears—a clear sign that he should have listened when you told him to put on a beanie.

The faint winter sunlight touched his skin in a caressing manner but did very little actually to warm him up. Your words from the night before kept on echoing through his mind

“There’s nothing wrong in taking a step back and putting some distance between you and something that hurts you”

It was the first time he had ever seen Gyuri like that, as a catalyst for pain, in his life. Throughout all the years he had known her, Mingyu thought of her almost as a haven, the one person he went to when he needed comforting. It took him such a long time to understand that she was also the reason why he needed comforting in the first place. 

Maybe it was all his own fault, if he had made a move when an opportunity presented itself, and there was at least a handful of them over the years, he wouldn’t be feeling like that like he had just missed his very last chance. 

He felt even worse for thinking that way when he knew how deeply in love she was with Seungcheol, how her entire face lit up at the mere mention of his name, how the man would break himself into pieces if it meant that he would get to see her smile once again. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad when I said those things to you last night”

Mingyu finally turned to you, the frown on his face easing once he saw you, a smile taking over his lips as he shook his head. 

“You didn’t. I asked you to be honest and you were, I should have been prepared to not like what you thought of the whole thing”

You hang the strap of the camera on your shoulder, taking decided steps towards him. He suddenly felt shy at the fact that your eyes never left him, even when someone walked by and said hello. Your response came quick and polite, your customer service voice taking over but the person never really got your attention. 

“Mingyu” his name left your lips in a quiet tone, your eyes suddenly searching his face.

“What?” his voice too was quiet, like he could barely push the word out. 

He didn’t know what this sudden change in your demeanor meant. You had always been on each other's tails, bickering away just for the fun of it. He wasn’t too sure how to react to a different version of you, a you who seemed to care for him far deeper than he could have ever anticipated. 

You extended your hand, cupping his cheek while your thumb ran over his lip. A second later your other hand was on his face as well, only this time it ran from his nose up to his eyebrows. 

“Stop forcing yourself to smile when you don’t feel like it. You don’t have to pretend, at least not with me”

It felt weird to be the one nursing someone’s broken heart while said someone is someone you liked. While you sat there, by his side, helping him pick up the broken pieces of his heart, your own stood in front of him jumping up and down as if saying “Look at me! I’m standing right here, all you have to do is notice me”

There you were in this romantic place, in front of a fireplace, a glass of wine in your hand, a blanket around your shoulders, the guy you had a crush on by your side, his knee bumping into yours, all the while you felt your own heart breaking. 

You had set yourself up for failure, that much was beyond obvious, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself. The moment you saw Mingyu stand in front of you, in clear distress, eyes red with unwashed tears, your heart both constricted and expanded, all at once. 

It felt good that he had gone to you but it also felt terrible to know that he was suffering and there was nothing you could do to ease his pain away. 

“I never asked you why you brought me here with you,” Mingyu said during dinner. 

It was the first week of January, the start of a new year, the start of, hopefully, a lifetime together for your clients, but to you, it was just another day working. In your mind, after calming down a very distraught Mingyu, inviting him to a resort in the middle of the winter made sense. A change in scenario, you had convinced yourself, would be too good for him, it was far better than staying at his apartment thinking about Gyuri and her now imminent marriage. 

“I needed help carrying the heavy stuff,” you laughed. 

It was a clear lie. You had given the week off to Chan three seconds after you said bye to Mingyu, but he didn’t need to know that. You knew that he would never find the truth out, he had never even met Chan before, and the last thing he’d ask was why Chan had to skip work – another lie about Chan’s mom needing him.

“You know I don’t believe you, right?” he had his eyebrows raised, waiting for your confirmation “We both know that you’d rather cut off an arm than ask for help, especially my help”

It’s how two people can have extremely different views of the same situation. In your mind, you always did your best to be around Mingyu whenever you could, most of the time you were truly really close to looking like a pathetic mess. 

Should you have played the damsel in distress card? Would that have helped your situation in the least? It was hard to tell. Although Gyuri wasn’t one to demand attention, Mingyu was constantly around for her, whatever she needed, he was there. 

You sipped on your wine, your eyes never daring to stay on him for more than a second at a time. All the bravado you had shown earlier, getting too close, touching him in a way that felt so intimate, was absolutely gone. There wasn’t a single drop of it in your bloodstream anymore. 

“Come on, I’m not that bad” your voice was a whiny childish sound and you hated it. 

Mingyu laughed, his head tilted back, the corners of his eyes creasing, his teeth on full display. After the laughter died all that was left was his breathtaking smile. Your heart did backflips in your chest, like celebrating a gold medal. It was the first time he had smiled, a real smile after Gyuri told him that she was getting married next September. 

“You’re far worse, to be honest” you rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours, causing him to laugh once again. 

It was why you had started to bicker, in the first place, because you wanted to see him smile more, wanted to get his mind off of whichever dark place it had drifted to. If a little banter, a snarky comment here and there, were enough to brighten up his day, then you were all for it. 

“Be honest with me, just this once” he asked, trying to make his eyes go as wide as possible like puss in boots.

You laughed and pushed his face away from yours.

“I’m always honest” you played defensive.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. 

“I never know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours” he tapped your temple twice before letting his fingers slide over your face, down to your chin until his hand finally landed back on his lap. 

You pulled your knees against your chest and rested your cheek on them, not giving yourself any option but to look at Mingyu. How many times had you stared at him bluntly but he never noticed? However many it was, it was enough for you to have his face memorized. The light curve of his nose, the tiny mole on its tip, his soft eyes, the way his lips would quickly turn into a pout when he felt contradicted. 

“We’re one and the same, Mingyu” you allowed yourself to say. 

You knew that Mingyu would never connect the dots, knew that he would never be able to tell. Unlike him, you were careful with how you expressed your feelings. Mingyu was loud and obvious, everyone knew about it, and it was clear for anyone to see, while it would take someone who really knows you to tell the difference and in the circle you shared with Mingyu no one knew you that well. So, your biggest secret, the truth you were reluctantly sharing would fall on deaf ears. 

“Who is he?” he whispered, pressing his body closer to yours. 

You thanked the gods that each of you had your blanket, you wouldn’t survive if the only thing separating the two of you was your shirts.

“Doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like me back” your smile was sad, like you had already given up entirely on the matter, and in some way you had. 

“Who is the idiot that doesn’t like you?” his expression turned into a scowl as if he couldn’t really believe you “I can punch some sense into him if want, it would be great to let some aggression out”

He was joking, it was obvious. You knew that it was just a joke, but somehow you found yourself trying to swallow the lump that had suddenly become prominent in your throat, trying to blink away the burning sensation in the back of your eyes. 

Why would his words suddenly cause that reaction? You had, as much as possible, made peace with the idea of never being loved back by him. There would never be a version of the world where the two of you ended together. Hell, not even an end, just a long period of time. 

In Mingyu’s heart, there wasn’t enough space for you. All the love that he had to give was given to someone who didn’t want it. 

“Hey, no, I’m sorry” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him, placing a kiss on the top of your head “I didn’t mean to make you cry”

His words and actions only made you cry harder. For a brief moment in time, you were exactly where you wanted to be with who you wanted by your side. It was maybe the saddest moment you had ever found yourself in. 

“You’d lose” you whispered against his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat like a sweet lullaby “It’s the kind of fight you could never win”

You pulled yourself away from him, but Mingyu didn’t seem willing to let you go. His arm barely moved. Instead, he only gave you enough room to move so that you could look at him. 

His eyes had gotten too intense to the point you felt your cheeks get warm under his gaze. Mingyu’s eyes moved from your own to your lips, then back and forth again. 

Your breath got caught when you felt him lean forward and stop. He was half an inch away as if asking for permission or consent. You could have said no, you could have pushed him away, could have done anything at all to stop what was about to happen. Instead, you inched forward and pressed your lips to his. 

Your entire body melted under his touch, the loudness in your mind suddenly quiet at his touch. A quiet moan escaped your lips when Mingyu deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding passage through your lips as one of his hands traveled to your neck, the tip of his thumb on your chin, slightly tilting your head back. Your hands created a kind of their own, running over his clothed chest to the back of his head, your fingernails scratching his scalp. 

It would be a lie to say that you had never imagined yourself in a similar position. Nothing in the world, no amount of imagination, could have ever prepared you for the real thing. How hot your skin got under his skills lips, how your body molded into his once he pulled you over his lap, how you nearly lost your mind when he sucked on your neck leaving a mark that you knew would last for days on end. 

You pulled back for a second, needing to catch your breath again. Mingyu looked at you with glassy eyes while trying to catch his breath too. He moved his hand down your back, going slower at the curve of your ass and the back of your thighs, his touch teasing, daring almost, as he smiled. 

“This is a terrible idea” you whispered. 

Mingyu smiled then, pulling your body flush against his, your center pressed over his growing erection. 

“No” he murmured over your lips “It’s the best idea we’ve ever had”

The sound of Mingyu’s footsteps rang repeatedly in your mind like it was happening all over again. If it had been weeks since it happened, since you pretended to be asleep when you felt he untangle his body from yours, quietly put on his clothes, and leave the room after he made sure you were fully covered with the blanket. It was a sound that kept you awake at night and when you did manage to sleep it haunted you in your dreams. 

You didn’t know what you were expecting from him, from the situation. The truth of the matter was that you shouldn’t be expecting anything at all to begin with. 

Taking Mingyu on your work trip had been the start of all your terrible ideas. It was followed by the colossal mistake of being with him in a dimly lit room and then everything after. 

You had never seen or heard from him again. When you finally managed to move into bed, after the pain in your heart eased enough to allow you to breathe, you saw his text on your phone “sorry, something came up and i had to leave in a hurry, let’s talk soon, okay?”.

The soon he mentioned never happened. You didn’t want to be the first one to reach out to him. You would never give someone, even if that someone was the person you were in love with, the chance to see you at your worst. Being the first one to call would be exactly that. 

On top of it all, you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into. You knew Mingyu was in love with Gyuri, you knew that there wasn’t the slightest chance of that weekend becoming something more than it was, of somehow changing your relationship with him. It did, in fact, change, but not in the way you’d expect. 

Your phone on the table lit up, an incoming call. There were days you had expected a call from Mingyu, wished and prayed for it. You had chosen to believe when he said that the two of you would talk soon, but a day turned into a week, a week into two. Eventually, you gave up. 

The only person that still called you was Gyuri.

“Are you free this weekend?” she asked before you even said hello. 

“No, I’ve got work, on both days” 

You put your phone on speaker, not bothering to even raise it to your face. You were tired, your entire body aching from the kickboxing classes you started a few days before. All you wanted was to finish your meal and go to bed. 

“Your job sucks” she complained and you could hear Seungcheol’s laugh in the background. 

“My job is great and it pays more than yours, babe�� the teasing in your voice was evident, the first time you smiled at something regarding Gyuri. 

“I’m still waiting on Seungcheol to make me a housewife,” he said something in the background but you couldn’t tell what it was. 

Their relationship dynamic was cute, it was clear from the moment Gyuri introduced Seungcheol to the friend group. She made a whole announcement off of it, there were so many warnings around it. You still remember clearly how Mingyu’s entire expression changed, his bright eyes slowly lost their spark. It was the first, and only, time you hated Gyuri. 

“Where will you be working?”

“Saturday on the cathedral downtown and Sunday two towns over, a beach ceremony”

“Your favorite,” she said dreamily.

Over the years being a photographer you found out that your dream perfect wedding wasn't one many people were willing to have. The whole setup for a wedding was expensive on its own, the word wedding making every price skyrocket, but having it on a beach was that much harder. 

“Yeah, my absolute favorite”

Mingyu was an asshole, he was well aware of it. He felt like an asshole when he left you, when he wasn’t the first one to reach out to you even though speaking with you was probably the one thing he wanted the most. 

The problem was him, it had been all along. 

When Mingyu was with you during that weekend it felt like the pieces of his shattered heart were mending together. All cracks and scratches were still visible, the pain was still kind of there but much more subtle than it had ever been. And then you were in his arms, body tangled with his, a mess of shaky breaths, sweat, and moans. Suddenly it was like all the gears in his mind and body had clicked together, like everything was finally in the right place. 

And it scared him. 

For a moment, perhaps in his innocence, Mingyu thought that spending the night together would bring somewhat of a solace to the both of you. He didn’t think something in him would change. He didn’t think a change could happen so fast. He was overcome with fear, so he left. 

Seeing you there, wrapped up in him, a look of complete peace on your face caused a new wave of feelings to crash over him. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to untangle himself from you. He wanted to enjoy the warmth of your body, wanted nothing more than to simply hold you the entire night and wait to see what morning brought to him. But as Mingyu lay there, the feel of your heartbeat on his chest, the conversation you shared a couple of hours before suddenly came back to him. 

We’re one and the same, Mingyu. 

Doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like me back.

Yet again, Mingyu saw himself in the position of being interested in someone who had no interest in him. So he left. 

Every single cell in his body demanded that he call you, that he went to you. He wanted to hug you again and know, god knows how, that you were made to be in his arms. He wanted to kiss you again and hear the sounds you made. He wanted to fall asleep by your side and wake you up with kisses on that sweet spot on your neck that he learned all too quickly about. 

Still, he held himself back. 

The whole situation seemed unfair to him. He wanted to be with you while still kind of liking someone, you wanting to be with someone else but somehow settling for him. 

“What happened between the two of you?” he heard someone ask by his side. 

Mingyu looked away from the door and to Gyuri, who had a perfect frown on her face. When she called and invited him for dinner he almost said no, but when she mentioned that she had invited you as well, he knew that he would be there.  He waited for the thing for days, his heart flipping as it got closer to the time of the dinner. But once Mingyu got there and realized that you were nowhere to be seen and that you wouldn’t show, he wanted to leave. 

“What do you mean?”

Gyuri rolled her eyes and sighed, clearly pissed off. 

“I know yn invited you to go on her work trip and although I might not know why and what you even did there, I do know that something happened. She’s barely talking with me, and you’re barely speaking to me. She shuts down the moment I say your name and you’ve been looking at that door like you’re waiting for someone and the only other person I invited today was her. So you’re going to tell me what happened between the two of you, right now, or Seungcheol is going to beat you until do”

She was out of breath when she stopped talking. Mingyu turned to Seungcheol, eyebrows raised, but all the other man did was laugh and shake his head. 

It’s almost comical how Mingyu used to see Seungcheol almost as a competitor, but while sitting on said man’s couch he looked like just any other dude. 

Mingyu half expected something to happen inside of him when he saw Gyuri but it was just like seeing any other of his friends. Nothing happened, there was no tension, no urge to leave because he hated to see you around Seungcheol. There was indeed a need to leave, but it was to go towards you. 

“Can you find out for me where she’ll be this weekend?” 

He was avoiding his question, sure, but he had also made a decision. Mingyu was a man with a mission. 

There was something that brought you peace when you worked. It was hectic, yes, and loud, but the second you held the camera and pointed it at something it was like the volume of the world was turned down. It was like an almost out-of-body experience. This feeling paired with the incredible view of the beach, made your heart feel good for the first time in months. 

It was already the end of the celebration, half of the guests were drunk and the other half was helping those who were. The newlyweds had left and there wasn’t anything else to do. You packed your equipment, put it in your car, and went in the opposite direction of the wedding. 

Although you enjoyed being at the beach, you rarely went to one. The craziness of the day, the lack of a routine, and sudden weddings, all made it impossible for you to have a day or two off. There was also the fact that you had been avoiding free time because it gave you a chance to think about Mingyu, and thinking about him usually led to crying, crying led to binge eating sessions that would inevitably cause a migraine. 

You doubted your heart would heal any time soon. It was like the wound was still open, thinking about him or talking to Gyuri was like throwing salt at it. 

You heard your name being called and turned around. Slowly you turned around, certain that you were confused about who was calling you. There was no way it was actually Mingyu. 

However, there he was. In light-colored pants and a dress white shirt with the first three buttons open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was much longer than it was the last time you saw each other, falling over his eyes slightly, his cheeks were red from being exposed to the sun for too long. He had the most beautiful smile as he walked towards you, one of his hands in his pocket, the other carrying his shoes. 

It was almost pathetic how your heart was suddenly filled with hope and joy at the mere sight of him, after months of complete silence. 

“I can see why beach weddings are your favorite, it’s really beautiful out here”

You wanted to ask how he knew that or why he was even there, to begin with, but you didn’t, sure that Gyuri’s sudden call on Thursday had something to do with it. Instead, you turned around and kept walking until you reached the spot you were looking for. Looping down on the sand you removed your shoes and tossed them aside, happy to finally feel the sand under your skin. 

“I’m sorry I left like that,” he said as he sat by your side “and I’m sorry I didn’t call you like I said I would”

You shook your head. 

“It’s fine, I could have called you too” 

Whatever was the meaning of the conversation, whatever was the reason why he went after you, you wanted to be over already. There’s only so much hurt a heart should be able to handle and your quota had been met a long time ago. 

“Can you let me explain?” 

Mingyu reached for your hand but you pulled it away. You were already so close to just allowing yourself to fall into that same wheel of repetition with him, putting yourself through absolute pain to be around him. You needed to break the cycle and that meant being away from him – though you were sure the whole what the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t feel thing was actually a bunch of crap because your heart was hurting plenty, even after months of being away from him. 

“You don’t need to” you hid your hands under your thighs when you noticed that he might reach out again “I knew what I was getting myself into that night, it’s not like you played me or anything”

Saying those things out loud brought an entire new wave of pain to you. In a certain way, keeping quiet about those feelings, refusing to cry over them, was like shoving all of it into a box and pretending it never really existed, or maybe that it was a dream all too real. 

“I left because I was overwhelmed. I thought I had all my feelings figured out, and thought that it would be about two people with a one-sided crush finding a bit of solace in each other. But then…” he paused and turned his body to you and you had to use all your self control not to look at him, to not fall into the deepness of his eyes “Being with you was like finally being able to breathe or stepping out of a cave for the first time in my life. You were the light drawing me out the whole time and I was just too dumb to realize it sooner”

You closed your eyes as the tears started to roll down your cheeks, even if crying in front of him was the last thing you possibly wanted. 

Mingyu was saying all of the right things, all the things you always wanted to hear from him, but somehow your heart got tighter inside your chest. There was no relief, just more pain. 

“So you’re not in love with Gyuri anymore?” 

Your heart constricted just at the thought of his answer. 

“I’m sure I was at some point but I think somewhere along the line I simply got used to it so I didn’t know how to fully let go”

“So I’d be your rebound? The getting under someone to get over someone thing?”

Those words hurt so much to say, it was like taking a knife to your skin and pricking it open, not enough to bleed but just enough to burn and scorch. 

“No! No, of course not!” the desperation in his voice made you open your eyes and turn to him “I know it’s confusing and I know it doesn’t make any sense. I know that. But something changed that night and I got scared, so I left”

He was saying all the right things and even so… It felt like it was both too soon and too late. Too soon to get over someone he had been in love with for years and too late to try something with you. It had been a whole three months since you saw him for the last time since you interacted in any way. You had been hurt too deeply, perhaps even beyond repair. 

“Do you remember that night, when I said that you could never win a fight with the guy I like?” Mingyu’s face twisted like the mere mention of the guy brought a sour taste to his mouth “You could never win because you’d be fighting yourself”

You watched as his face went from confusion to relief like he had finally reached the shore after swimming for hours. 

“I have liked you almost as long as you have liked Gyuri” you started before he could say anything else “I watched as your heart broke when she talked about someone, when she introduced Seungcheol, and how we all collectively understood that he was the one for her. I watched you suffer through their relationship and even more so when she announced they were engaged. Your heart was hurting for her while mine was hurting because of you. I don’t believe you when you say that you’re over her because I watched all of that happen”

You stood up and picked up your shoes. You needed to leave, needed to put some distance between yourself and Mingyu. 

“All the things you said just now? I dreamt, wished, and prayed for the moment you’d see me and say those things. I never thought I’d walk away from you if it did happen” when Mingyu stood to follow you, you raised your hand, smiling sadly at him “Please, don’t follow me”

The weird thing about a broken heart is how physical it can get. Hearts were simply muscles and therefore it shouldn’t hurt over emotional pain, still as you lay in bed that night it felt like you had been run over. No part of your body wasn’t in pain. A weird mix of heartache and sobs was all that you could feel. 

It was like that for days. You only forced yourself to get out of bed when you were needed for work and if you didn’t need to be there, Chan was running things on his end. 

There were countless texts and calls from Mingyu, all left unanswered. You used to sit and watch and your phone screen would light up with his name and go dark, just to light up again a few minutes later. He gave it no rest but once he realized that you’d never pick up his calls, he started to leave voice notes. 

“I know why you won’t pick up my calls, but I hope at least you’ll hear this message, like you have been reading all of my texts until now” 

You had put off listening to them. You desperately wanted to, but you were scared that millions of pieces of your heart would break again and leave nothing but dust. A heart that could never really be mended again. 

Liquid courage was needed to even click on his name, a double shot was required to listen to the first message. 

“Out of all the things you could have possibly said that day, me being the guy you like was at the bottom of the list. When you told me about the guy, I got so angry. All I could ask myself was who is dumb enough to let her go? Turns out I’m the dumb guy. You see, the reason why I left was because I got scared, but only because I realized that I liked you way more than I ever anticipated and once again in my life, I saw myself liking someone who didn’t like me back. It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? I was scared to put myself out there with you, scared to see you with someone else, that I kept myself from you for months, when all I wanted was to be by your side. The moment I got into that train I wanted to go back to you and never let go again. I know you don’t believe me, but I wish you would”

At the first word he said your eyes filled with tears. You had wanted nothing more than to just be around him, in his presence for whatever reason. Listening to the first one was like breaking a dam and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. 

“I’ve thought about it, why you’d think you’d be my rebound and I want to assure you, though I’m not really sure how yet, that you’re not. There’s no version of the world, even the ones I’m dumber than I already am, in which I’d treat you like a rebound. The only reason why it took me so long to get to you was because I wanted to be sure, that I wasn’t making a big mess in my mind. I have you in so high praise in my mind that I’d rather cut off an arm or a leg than do anything to hurt you”

“I feel like the greatest jerk ever, you know? Before, we used to meet alone and then I’d just cry about some other girl and you were just so willing to listen. I remember how sad your face would turn when I said something and I used to think that you were simply feeling sorry for me but now that I know the truth? I’m so sorry that I put you through that. For the longest time, I kept thinking that I was in the worst position one could be, while you were in a much worse one. I’m so so sorry”

You listened to audio, after audio. Each one of them brought a new wave of tears to your eyes, a new sob to leave you. 

After all the audio messages, there was a text. 

“Please, agree to meet me. Give me just one chance to prove to you that I’m not just talking out of my ass, that I mean everything I said”

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, not a simple cloud in the sky to ruin a perfect sunny day. The perfect weather for the kind of pre-wedding pictures Gyuri wanted. 

“After the week we had, I thought we would have to postpone today's shoot,” Chan said, setting down the equipment on the ground. 

It had been raining the entire week, the one of rain that just setting the foot outside the door meant getting drenched. Gyuri had called you in complete desperation every single day, almost crying. Both you and Seungcheol going around in circles to calm her down. 

“God listened to all of my prayers this week,” you joked. 

While you and Chan were setting up your equipment, Gyuri and Seungcheol were getting ready inside the house. 

You turned around when you heard the sound of another car approaching. You thought everyone had already arrived. 

“Shit”

It was a car you were all too familiar with, having learned how to spot it from far away, even if you weren’t exactly the kind of person who knew a lot about cars, despite having your own. 

The car parked right by yours and a second later Mingyu stepped out. His eyes were covered by sunglasses and in unusual casual clothes. He smiled as soon as he saw you. 

He took out a few boxes from the back seat and turned to you. 

“Do you mind?”

Blinking away your surprise you took one step forward but froze in place again. 

“I’ll help,” Chan said, already going towards Mingyu and taking the boxes from his hands “Where do I put these?”

Mingyu's smile faded a little. He blinked the surprise away and turned to Chan. 

“On the kitchen, please” Chan simply nodded and entered the house while Mingyu walked to you, his most charming smile in place “Don’t think you can simply ignore me today”

The words whispered in your ear, causing a flash of that night to cross your mind. 

God have mercy on my soul. 

The entire day was a big test of self control, on how much you could focus under enormous pressure. The pressure of being the photographer at your best friend’s wedding was already enough. But having Mingyu around? That was a whole new level of pressure. One you were still yet to meet. 

You could feel your eyes tracking your every move. Every step you took, every word you said, every breath you took, was under his watchful eye. 

When Gyuri and Seungcheol went inside to change clothes, Mingyu approached you. 

“Here, drink some water” he extended a bottle of delicious cold water, but you hesitated for a second “Come on, it’s like a hundred degrees, you’re all in black. It’s just water”

“Why are you here?”

Mingyu took the cap of the bottle out and handed it over to you. He waited until you drank some before he answered. 

“I invited myself, figured it was a good excuse to run into you” you rolled your eyes and turned away from him “You don’t believe me?”

That’s the thing, you did. 

For days you kept listening to his messages, one after the other, and then the ones he sent after. Sweet, sweet words that made you giggle like the teenager you never were. His date ideas, followed by not-so-sweet things he’d like to do with you. 

“I do” you handed him the bottle back. 

Mingyu blinked at you a couple of times, like he was having a hard time registering what you just said. His confused face was easier on his eyes than his charming, flirty, side. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, that’s absolutely the last I ever want to do. I’m sorry for being a complete idiot and never realizing both of our feelings, because honestly, it takes a complete idiot like me to overlook something that was right in front of me the entire time”

He reached for your face, his hand covering almost the entire side of your face. 

Finally, you caved in. 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his hands. The weight that had covered your heart for months was suddenly gone. All that was left was this fluttery feeling. 

“I missed you”

The admission came in a whisper. 

You missed him in every sense. Mingyu was your friend before he was the guy you liked, a presence so constant in your life and then suddenly there was no him. 

No random annoying texts, no midnight tours to McDonald's, no sudden barges into your apartment because you’re not fooling me, I know you haven’t eaten the entire day miss. 

“Oh, sweetheart”

He smashed his lips over yours. Mingyu was like a man who found water after days in the desert, a hungry man gifted with a banquet. Your body was pulled entirely against his, both of his hands on your face, holding your face close, your own on his back. 

Mingyu was the first one to pull away. He placed small kisses all over your face, up your nose, your forehead, and then back with a quick peck on your lips. He sighed as he pressed his forehead to yours. 

“I missed you so much,” he whispered and quickly kissed your lips again. 

“Do you mean it? Everything you said to me both on the beach and in your messages. I can’t take another heartbreak, Mingyu”

He tilted your head back, making sure that he had your full attention. 

“Every part of me is yours. There’s only one person I want by my side and that’s you”

You stood on your tiptoes and pulled Mingyu to you. The heat taking over your skin had nothing to do with the scorching sun, but everything to do with him. 

“I missed you so much,” he said before pulling you close again. 

The world seemed to have stopped moving. It was just you and him and nothing else. 

“Oh great, the sexual tension in the air will be even worse now” someone groaned behind you. 

Unwillingly you detached yourself from Mingyu and turned around. Seungcheol had a grin on his face while Gyuri had a full-on smile. 

“Oh, so that was the issue. Just two idiots taking too long to realize that they wanted to fuck” 

“See? I told you but you didn’t believe me!”

Gyuri threw her hands in the air. 

“I thought she couldn’t stand him”

“Sweetheart, that’s called sexual tension”

You pointed a finger in their direction. 

“If you two keep talking, some pictures will get ruined” you turned to Chan “You, not a single word about this”

Mingyu laughed and turned to him, hitting his shoulder once and then pushing him away. 

“And you, go away. You’re too distracting to be around”

There was an unfamiliar weight over your body. It was too hot under the sheets and the extra weight wasn’t helping a whole lot with it. The night sky didn’t help tell the time or even an approximation. 

When you tried to move the weight around your body got tighter and heavier. You turned around in bed and all the irritation over the heat vanished. 

Mingyu had your body wrapped up in his. His right arm and leg over you in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable for him but you didn’t dare to move again. 

You had struggled to fall asleep. Your mind constantly took you back to that night, to the sound of Mingyu leaving and your heart shattering at the same time. 

“Sleep, I’m not going anywhere” he promised, placing a kiss on your forehead and tightening his hold on you “This is the only place I want to be, with you”

After a few minutes, Mingyu noticed your breathing evening out and he too was able to relax. He hated that he was the one who caused you so much pain. 

When you told him about it, Mingyu was washed with both happiness and regret. Happiness because you liked him back and regret because he wasted so much time. 

He had liked Gyuri, he wasn’t going to shy away from that. He had and that was it. Finding out her engagement wasn’t as soul-shattering as you had thought, or at all. What was truly soul-shattering was seeing the pain so evident in your eyes, how you seemed to barely be holding yourself together, and knowing he was the cause of it. 

Slowly he started to notice the difference in your actions. Small things that you’d do for him but not for other people, shit you’d take from him but never from someone else. 

He had so much he wanted to say to you, things that maybe would make the situation clear for the both of you, but you, rightfully so, weren't taking any of his calls. When he noticed that you were at least reading his texts, he took it as his chance to expose his feelings. At first, he thought about writing but those would be too long and that was something he knew you hated. His second option was audio messages. He could only hope that you would listen to them. 

Having you accept his feelings for you was indescribable. You were the light in life, pushing away all the dark clouds that threatened to darken his day. 

“You’re thinking way too hard in this ungodly hour” he murmured with his eyes still closed. 

Mingyu noticed when you stirred awake, the tension going over your body. The light sleeper on him woke up to every small movement you made, and you moved a lot. 

“I’m hot” you whispered.

“Yeah, you are”

You laughed out loud and Mingyu pushed his face further into your hair, taking in the soft jasmine from your shampoo. He missed your laughter, he had taken it for granted for too long. 

“Laugh again and I’ll let you go”

You poked his rib trying to push him away.

“You have to be funny first and you're, like, the most unfunny person I ever met”

Mingyu made a quick movement, suddenly he was sitting on top of you, holding your arms over your head.

“Take that back right now” you simply shook your head, doing your absolute best to hold back a smile that threatened to peak out “You're sure about that?”

You simply nodded and that was enough for him. He slowly moved his hand to the side of your body. What could have easily been a sensual touch quickly turned into a merciless tickling session. You did your best to keep your laugh in, not make a single sound, but there was no fighting against it. Soon enough you were a mess of laughter, tears running down the side of your face. 

“Okay, I surrender! You win, I laughed”

Only when your body stopped shaking that Mingyu fully let go of your hands. 

“From now on, tears of happiness are the only ones you’ll ever cry. I’ll make sure of that”

Slowly, you ran your hand up his arm that was holding his weight next to your head, to his shoulder, until you were able to tangle your fingers through his hair. 

“Well, I was hoping that I could cry because of other reasons too”

Something in his eyes changed.  The softness was gone, replaced by mischievousness. 

“We can arrange that”

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[noonecareslol]

𒀯𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

Anaxiphilia: love for or attraction to unsuitable mates; an act of falling in love with the wrong person

Hwang In-Ho x Fem! Reader

wc! 7k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you move away from your childhood best friend (and first love), the last place you expected to see him was stuck with you as a “player”.

TW: Violence (duh its squid game), cursing, smut 18+ pnv, unsafe sex, probably pregnant lol

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Classical music filled your ears as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights. It played throughout the room as you woke slowly and attempted to make sense of your surroundings. But, as you looked at the number placed on your tracksuit you remembered where you were.

Or at least why you were there.

You were never uncomfortable growing up. You were actually quite wealthy. Your father owned a very successful company, your mother invested money intuitively, and life seemed to improve daily. That was until you were 17 and news broke that your father’s company was a front. A money laundering business that cleaned his filthy money from years and years of fraud. When they died, they left you a monumental amount of debt. And when a suspiciously attractive guy handed you a little brown card, you couldn’t help but call the number on the back.

You knew the games were too good to be true. And you realized you were right after the first one. It took you 30 minutes to wash the blood off your face and out of your hair.

Now you were standing next to a girl with the number “222” written on her tracksuit, watching as an older lady and her son begged the guards to let them go. You fiddled with your hands, flinching at the rawness after scrubbing them relentlessly. Your attention was grabbed when another person stepped through the crowd.

“Clause three of the consent form!” Your eyes trained on him as he spoke angrily, “The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.”

Your heart stopped. You could go home and be safe. But you would still be drowning in debt. You bit your lip, remembering about the share of money you would receive. Would you have enough to cover it?

As if the guards could read your mind, a large piggy bank lowered from the ceiling, “The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” Every eye watched as the piggy bank began to fill, “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

Another man shoves past the crowd, “And how much is that?”

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”

Exasperated sighs and annoyed words broke out amongst the crowd. But your eyes stayed trained on the man who first spoke, “456” written on his chest.

The pink guard spoke loudly, “The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

The crowd stayed silent, “The total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won.”

The crowd erupted again, full of enthusiastic words and motivated cheers. The girl next to you placed her hands over her stomach, almost cradling it closer to her body.

If you went home now, you wouldn’t even have enough to cover a third of your debt. But if you stay and continue the games, you could die.

The doors opened and two guards wheeled out a metal podium with two buttons, a red X and a blue O. “Now, let’s begin the vote. If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers.”

“Player 456.”

The same man from before stepped forward without hesitation. As he walked to the podium his stride was filled with wrath and as he slammed his palm against the X, his eye contact didn’t break with the guard.

The voting continued, each person stepping forward to decide whether to live or die. Each time either button was pressed you silently celebrated, still not sure if you should stay or go.

“Player number two.”

Your face fell as your eyes centered on the podium. And with each slow step you took, you became more sure of your decision. And as you reached the podium, you had made up your mind entirely.

A high beep rang through the room as your face reflected the blue button. You decided to continue. Flinching at the sound of defeated sighs from behind, you took the patch embroidered with an O and joined the other voters.

“Player number one.”

You hadn’t cared to look at the man when he was standing next to you earlier. But now that he was about to break a tie, your eyes were locked on him. You didn’t catch his face but you studied his figure. He had a tall frame and dark brown hair that seemed to be styled perfectly. He walked with a thick sense of confidence and you hadn’t failed to notice how his tracksuit clung to his biceps.

You watched intensely as he lifted his hand and hovered between the two buttons. The room held suspension and your eyes were locked on his hand. He hesitated for a few more moments before pressing his hand down. Blue light illuminated his face and the surrounding crowd cheered as he walked from the podium.

He had selected to stay. To play another game where you, or him, could die. You voted for that too. So why aren’t you happy about winning?

Because he’s turned around now and you’ve seen his face. And you would recognize that face anywhere.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I don't understand, you’re moving?” He grasped the sides of your face, afraid to let go.

You looked at the boy in front of you who’ve you known your whole life. You went to private schools together, fancy parties together, and you shared your first time together. And now you’re leaving.

You placed your hands over his, “I don’t understand either In-ho. I want to stay, I don’t want to leave you.” Tears fell down your rosy cheeks as In-ho placed his forehead gently against yours.

You ignored your mother’s frantic yells for you to come and pack your things. You didn’t want to leave him. You loved him, and you knew if you left now you wouldn’t just be leaving your house. You’d be leaving your life behind. Your father would be arrested and your mother would have to work while taking care of you herself. You would move from Gangnam to Daegu. And you would have to start a new life. You just didn’t understand why In-ho couldn’t be a part of it.

That was the last time you saw him.

Well, until now.

You kept your distance, watching him talk to player 456. You recognize him from before as the man who’s already played.

You observed intensely, not bothering with your food. You watched how he exchanged words with 456. How his hair moved slightly as he used his hands to talk. You didn’t understand why he was here. The last you heard about him, he was married and his wife was expecting.

What could’ve gone so wrong for him to be here?

The girl next to you shuffled in her seat, setting her empty dosirak-tong on the ground. You knew she was pregnant just from how she walked uncomfortably with her hands supporting her back.

“Here, take mine. I don’t like dosirak.” It was a lie, dosirak is one of your favorite meals. But she was eating for two, and you didn’t have an appetite.

She looked up at you before gently taking the metal box from your hands, “Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and you smiled in return.

Your eyes searched for In-ho again to find him walking towards a fight you hadn't noticed had broken out. His frame was large and towered over the boys as he approached them, “Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime There are elders present, mind your manners. Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too?” In-ho’s jaw clenched as he tilted his head at the boy, “Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”

You knew where this was heading, In-ho always knew how to fight. You smirked as he grabbed the boy, turning him around and twisting his arm behind him.

Forcing him to the ground with a thud as he whined, “Wait! I’m sorry! Please, let me go!”

He let go of his arm and stood up straight, adjusting his tracksuit. As he looked around the room while walking back toward player 456, his eyes suddenly met with yours. And he froze as he scanned your face. He was so caught up in Gi-huns plan that he had failed to realize you had entered the game. The girl he fell in love with. Who he shared his first kiss with, who he has thought about every day for 20 years since you were 17.

Your heart ached as old feelings rushed over you, watching as his eyes softened slightly before player 390 dragged him over.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You were too busy trying to figure out why he was here. Plus, you caught word of the next game being Dalgona. Which worried you because you had always sucked at cutting out the tiny shape, always giving in and eating the cookie whole.

You spent the night staring tiredly at the piggy bank, the soft yellow light casting across your face. What you didn't know is that 50 feet away, In-ho watched you. His mind also trying to understand why you were here. He stared at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your jaw, remembering when he would trail kisses on your pretty little face.

When he met your eyes earlier, he froze. Not because he didn't expect to see you, which he didn't, he froze because his heart did. He marveled at your beauty, and you took his breath away. Just like the first time he saw you all those years ago.

And now as he lays in his bed, his pillow propped up on the opposite end so he can see you, he can't help but address the elephant in the room. You know his name. You know his identity. You could ruin everything, his plan that he had focused solely on for the past three years.

As the lights turned on and classical music rang out from the speakers, his eyes stayed on you and only you.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Welcome to your second game. This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of six in the next ten minutes. Let me repeat."

Sand kicked behind you as you walked into the room. The speakers repeated the instructions as you whispered to the girl next to you, "Is Dalgona played in teams?" She shook her head and her hand caressed her belly. You've grown somewhat protective over the girl, whose name you learned is Kim Jun-hee.

You take her hand as you look to find a team and your eyes try to pick out In-ho from the crowd. You think you spot the back of his head and start to pull Jun-hee towards him when she makes a be-line to a group. Your protests go ignored as she reaches them. Your eyes still search for In-ho as she inquires about joining their group.

"Of course, you can join." The voice snaps you from your search as you meet familiar piercing brown eyes with your own. Your breath hitches in your throat as he doesn't break eye contact.

"Time for team selection is up." The PA system breaks your stare, but In-ho holds his. You look around the room, scanning over the tall blue walls and the rainbows painted on the floor, "The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a minigame at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the minigames: Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gonggi. Number four, Kendama. Number five, Spinning Top. Number six, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the minigames and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide on players for each minigame."

Your team divides the games between you. You get stuck with Kendama, a game that is played by tossing a ball into the air and attempting to catch it on a wooden stick point. You're fairly confident in yourself. You and In-ho grew up playing games like these.

You sit with your group as each team competes. You sat at the end next to Jun-Hee, checking on her every once and a while. You flinched every time a gunshot rang out, anxiety bubbling with every elimination.

In-ho could not stop looking at you. It was as if you had a magnetic pull, and he couldn't look away. You were a piece of art, crafted with the hands of God himself. And he was jealous of God's hands, wishing it had been his very own that created such beauty. Every time you looked his way, he looked elsewhere.

"Final two teams, please get ready." You help Jun-hee stand up, 390 stepping in place next to her. Standing on the other side of 388 as you all line up at the start. You lower your gaze as In-ho steps in line next to you. He's always been intimidating, especially with his large frame towering over yours.

390 chuckles, "It's weird to be the only ones who don't get an audience, isn't it?" His attempt to lighten the mood works a little, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I think it will help us focus more!" You rub 388's shoulder in comfort while he repeats the motions of throwing and catching the Gonggi.

The guard finishes locking In-ho's and 456's shackles before you feel an arm snake around yours. In-ho's bicep compresses your own as your face heats up. You glance up daringly meeting In-hos sharp gaze. You should say something. Anything. Ask him why he's here, or where his wife is. But before you can speak, 456 starts the chant and steps forward.

"Hana dul! Hana dul! Hana dul!" You chant as you approach the first game. Jun-hee slams the red ddakji down, successfully flipping the blue one on the first try.

As you chant and walk to the next game, 388 breaks the pace and steps forward quickly. Without hesitation In-ho's hand moves from your arm to your waist, effortlessly steadying you "Hey! Keep the pace!"

388 steps back into pace as we reach the next game, "Back when I used to pitch, I never threw very fast, but the ball always went where I wanted." 390 steps one foot back before aiming and throwing the stone precisely, hitting the target on the first try!

You all cheer before continuing forward, quickly approaching three minutes. As you sit on the ground you feel In-ho steadying you again, allowing you to lean slightly against him to give 388 more room to play his game.

"Okay, just take your time. You got this." I reassure 388 as he grabs the gonggi. With a quick hand, he tosses one in the air before collecting them one at a time. Then two at a time, Then three and one. Then all. He flips them on the back of his hand before catching them effortlessly.

Your cheers were quick as you stood up and rushed towards the fourth game. The guard hands you the Kendama and you can feel In-ho's gaze on you intensely. You held the Kendama out in front of you, tossing the ball up, quickly moving your hand to catch it. You close your eyes as you feel the ball land on the spike.

"Yes! You did it Y/N!" In-ho grabs your shoulders and shakes you, you shake his back as he beams a smile at you. And for a second, you forget about the timer and you're both 17 again, in love.

He wraps his arm around your waist again as you move to his game. He takes the spinning top in his hand and begins to wrap the rope around it, confidence radiating from him. We have this in the bag! -oh.

The rope fell off.

You feel his body tighten as stress began to build. He wraps the rope around once more before tossing it, praying that the top spins. It falls to its side and In-ho curses under his breath. You remember him using his left hand when growing up to play this game. You wondered why he was using his right, but you didn't ask him. You could tell he was getting annoyed at himself.

"It's okay! Just try again!" You let go of In-ho's arm to give him more room. He flings the spinning top with too much power and it flings backwards.

In-ho freezes, too embarrassed to move. The man next to him, 456, grabs his shoulder firmly, "It's okay, we'll get it. All right, backwards. Ready, set."

In-ho holds my waist tightly as we walk backwards in step, "It'd be boring to win everything fast." The group nods in agreement at 390's words, " 'Cause if you're ever gonna grow, you need to fail first, right?"

In-ho picks up the spinning top and we trek back to the line. He wraps the rope around successfully, "Okay now take it slow, wait- no don't rush it!"

In-ho interrupted 388's instructions by quickly, and messily, throwing the top. It falls to the side and you feel In-ho throw his head back and laugh. You quickly remove your hand from his waist, knowing what's about to happen.

"You piece of fucking shit! You ruin everything! You're worthless!" In-ho drops the piece of rope in his hand as he hits his head against his hands. "You're so pathetic!"

The group stands shocked as he hits himself angrily, stomping in the dried blood below him. You bend down and pick up the rope, glancing at the clock.

50 seconds.

"Hey!" You slam the rope against his chest and pull his face to look at you, "No one's blaming any of this on you! Now, take a deep breath, okay?"

In-ho nodded slowly, the feeling of your touch burning on his face as he placed his right hand over his chest, something he would do when you were younger. As the group shuffles to pick up the top, you place one of your hands over his and slow his breathing, "You can do this In-ho. Use your left hand like you did when we were kids. And if I die because of this I will kill you myself."

In-ho gave a small smile at your sarcasm as he wraps the rope around the axel, then the top. He places it in his left hand and looks at you quickly before throwing the top.

It spins.

You erupt in cheers as In-ho succeeds! He gives a quick hug to you, that you wished had lasted longer, and your group moves to 456's turn. In-ho's gaze darkened as he focused on 456, and you failed to notice it, still flustered from the quick hug.

"One! Two! Three! Four!" You all counted as 456 bounced the jegi on his foot, watching him and the clock as it counts down. For a split moment it seemed that he wouldn't be able to get the last hit in, but suddenly In-ho swoops in and reaches with his foot. "Five!"

You all cheer as you practically run to the end, crossing right as the timer hit zero. The heavy shackles get removed and you are immediately engulfed in a bear hug from In-ho. His arms wrap around the small of your back as he pulls you closer to his frame, if possible. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you stay frozen. Not from the near- death- experience you just had, but because you realized you had forgotten what his hugs had felt like. You threw your arms around him in return, deepening the hug you have longed for every day for 20 years.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You sat closely next to In-ho as the group chatted and complemented each others moves from the game. You were looking forward to catching up with In-ho, but you were too engrossed in 388's retelling of 390's stone toss, "And, sir, you were incredible at Flying Stone!" He proudly stood up and pretended to throw a stone, "You just lined it up and... Boom! First try!"

You giggled as 390 proudly shaked his head, and In-ho turned to look at you. God, that laugh. He had forgotten what it sounded like, and he frowned when you stopped, "I was thinking, what if we go around and say what our real names are? I'll go first, my name is Kang Dae-ho. Dae as in 'huge' and ho as in 'tiger'!"

390 laughed as Dae-ho gave himself tiger fangs with his fingers, "Now that's a cool name. My name is Park Jung-bae. It means 'righteous' and 'double.' So, I should be living twice as righteously."

"My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don't think I know what it stands for." Jun-hee smiles as she pushes a stray hair from her face.

"Jun means 'talented' and hee means 'star'. You are a talented star Jun-hee!" You ruffle her hair as she beams at you, "My name is Y/N. L/N, Y/N."

You can feel In-ho's stare as he watches your lips move, "My name is Young-il. You know, like 'yeong il.' 'Zero one' in Korean." You whipped your head towards him. Was there a reason he was hiding his name? Did he not trust anyone? He gave you a reassuring look, you'd just ask him later.

"My full name is Seong Gi-Hun." You looked away from In-ho's gaze as you watched 456 introduce himself.

"Seong Gi-hun. Like our un-'Seong' hero?" Everyone laughed but you. You were still pondering about In-ho. There were so many unanswered questions running through your mind. In-ho must have noticed your distant look, because he gave your hand a squeeze. A promise that he'll explain everything.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After another failed vote to go home (you had voted to leave this time), Gi-hun warned about the possibility of an ambush. It plagued your mind with worry as you laid on your mattress. Another night of no sleep adding to the eyebags growing under your pretty E/C eyes.

Gi-hun stood from his watch as In-ho took over, and headed to bed. Now was your chance to fully reconnect with In-ho, "Can I sit here?"

In-ho turned to you, "Cant sleep?" He asked as he scooted over a tad, making room for you. He didn't make a whole lot of room though, which you didn't mind.

Your thighs touched as you sat next to him, "No, never could when my mind is running like this." You dusted off your pants as you placed your legs out in front of you, fingers avoiding the blood that plagued your bottoms.

"You shouldn't be anxious about the game tomorrow." He watched your face intently, trying to read you. You were always so easy to read.

You stifle a small laugh, "Oh i'm not anxious, 'Young-il'. " You tilted your head towards him as you dragged out his "name", smirking as he nodded defeatedly.

"Ohhh, okay." He leaned in close, making your heart flutter, "I just don't want anyone to know my name yet. In a game like this there's a lot of... betrayal."

Your spine shivered as his words tickled your ear, "Oh, I guess I didn't think about that..." You turned to look at him but failed to realize how close he was.

Your lips were now inches apart, barely. You could feel his breath fan across your lips and his eyes remained focused on yours, "It can be our little secret? Hmm?" You found yourself nodding before you could even process what he said.

You didn't move, instead, you tested the waters. You leaned in closer, tilting your head slightly, "Last I heard you were married?"

He shook his head no, not caring to explain as he quickly licked his lips, his eyes now focusing on your own. Your breath caught as your heart beat at an unearthly rate, he was so close. If either of you moved your head even a centimeter, his lips would be on yours.

But you weren't able to find out. The small metal door slammed as Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, and Ae-sim walked in, and you pulled back quickly. "I should try and sleep."

In-ho nodded as you walked away, his eyes trailed the curve of your ass and he adjusted his pants slightly before going back to his watch.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Players, welcome to the third game. We will begin momentarily. The game you will be playing today is Mingle." The beady-eyed horses caught your attention first. The black, soulless, painted eyes boring into your own as you followed behind In-ho. "I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds, or be eliminated."

You stopped in front of the red platform, In-ho stopped next to you, "The real crucial thing for us to do is to stay calm and don't panic. Trust each other. And we'll all get out of here in once piece." He looked down at you, a need to protect you suddenly clear, "Deal?"

You looked up at him, "Deal." And he took your hand as you both stepped on the platform.

"With that, let the game begin!" The woman over the PA system was replaced with a nursery song, "Round And Round". The platform jolted before starting its spin, and you grasp onto In-ho for support as he steadies you.

"Ten."

The lights were replaced with flashing red as In-ho pulled you close. Gi-hun grabbed a group of 3 people as you searched for an open door, "Room 44!" You pointed to the light green door before dragging In-ho and Dae-ho with you. Hyun- ju grabbed a stray woman while running through the green door, barely making it.

In-ho placed his hands on the sides of your arms firmly, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You breathed out, trying to catch your breath.

He took one hand and cupped your face, "Just stick with me. You'll be okay." You nod as the door unlocks and he grabs your hand, leading you back to the platform.

You spin for another few agonizing seconds with your hand still firmly grasped in In-ho's. "Five."

Your face fell, there were six of you. Who was going to leave? In-ho quickly pushes you into Jung-bae's grasp, "Watch her, i'll go! Hurry!" In-ho takes one more glance towards you as he runs through the crowd.

Jung-bae drags you with the others as you call for In-ho, "Young- il! Young-il!" The door locks behind you and you break from Jung-bae's hold.

"Im sure hes okay. He's smart Y/N." You press your face to the door, peering out of the small window, searching for his tall frame. You know he's smart, but you were so scared of losing him again you couldn't even register the other players getting shot in front of your door.

It unlocks and you push it open, rushing out and onto the platform. You whip your head around as you scanned for In-ho. When you lock eyes with his brown ones you make a beeline towards him, pushing past other players as you jump into his arms, "What ever happened to, "Stick with me"?"

His hand wrapped protectively behind your neck, cradling you in his arms, "I know, im sorry. But i'm okay." He pulled your head away to look at him, a small smile resting on his face.

The platform began to spin as you and In-ho stood next to Jun-hee, "Attention, players. The final round will now begin." The God forsaken nursery rhyme plays again, and this time, your eyes were glued to In-ho.

"What do you think the number will be?" Jun-hee asked curiously while clinging onto Dae-ho.

"It will be two." In-ho looked towards her.

"Wait, why?"

He squeezes your hand, "We're at 126 people, and there are 50 rooms. Even if there's two in every room, then there's still only enough for 100 of us. If you don't find one fast, you're done for."

The platform comes to a halt. "Two." The lights flash again and In-ho pulls you on instinct, running to a yellow door.

In-ho was going to keep you safe, at any cost.

You look back towards the group for a split second when your body meets the ground, you look up in slow motion as the man who pushed you runs to the door. You took a staggered breath before grabbing onto his ankle, slamming him to the ground and buying you enough time to run in behind In-ho and close the door.

Relief washed over you only momentarily as your eyes met with a third person in the room. In-ho steps in front of you, "Out."

"But, we were here first. Why don't you put her out and I stay?" In-ho tilts his head at his last remark before wrapping his biceps around the man's head.

The door behind you shook as the other man tries to push it open, you are quick to press your body weight against it to hold it close, "In-ho, what do we do?" Your voice was frantic as the countdown continued.

In-ho's arms tighten around the mans neck as he pulls and pushes at his grasp, but In-hos eyes never faltered. Not once. They stayed piercing yours, full of determination.

"Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two..." The cracking sound of the mans neck made you flinch, his lifeless body hitting the floor with a thud.

I did say in-ho would keep you safe. At any cost.

"One."

The door locked behind you as you pressed your back against it, In-ho's stare stuck on you as he stepped over the man's body and towards you. He pushed your body against the door, his hand finding the flesh of your waist as his other hand pulled your neck into a desperate kiss. You became putty under his touch as he dug his fingers into your skin, he craved your touch as much as you did. And it was taking every muscle in his body not to take you and fuck you right now.

Your hands traveled from his chest and up to his neck, pulling him closer. A small whine escaped your pretty lips as he slid his hand up and under your shirt, the same hands he just used to kill for you.

For you.

You felt the door unlock with a click behind you. And In-ho pulled away reluctantly as your head fell back against the door, "I need you Y/N." He brushed his thumb over your red and swollen lips before taking your hand, and leading you out of the door.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Attention, all players. Lights-out will be in approximately 30 minutes. With the remaining half hour, please disperse, and prepare to return to your beds for the night."

You sat next to Jung-bae who was excitedly talking about the next vote with Dae-ho as you watched In-ho move your mattress next to his. You hadn't dared to tell a soul about what happened in the yellow room, the kiss or the dead guy.

And you weren't going to tell anyone.

You should be concerned, right? Concerned over how easy it was for him to snap a guys neck without breaking eye contact? He was emotionless, cold, really attractive. You had witnessed many fights between him and other men while growing up, especially when it came to fighting over you.

But he never once killed for you. Until now, at least. Were you wrong to think it was really hot?

"Once the lights go out, the ones who wanna stay are gonna come for us." Gi-huns voice broke you from your thoughts, "Killing us would mean they win the next vote. It would also increase the prize money."

In-ho sat down next to you, his hand immediately finding your back, "We have to attack first then, it's our only chance. Those guys assume we're just waiting it out till the next vote. When the lights go down, we should hit them first since they won't expect it." He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, watching is you nod in agreement.

Gi-hun shook his head and leaned in closer to the group, "No, we can't. We'd be playing right into their hands if we did."

"Who is 'they'?" You tilted your head as you asked, failing to notice In-ho's gaze darken.

"The ones who built this whole place. The ones who created the games and who watch us play." The group listens closely, "If we're gonna try and fight anyone, we should be going after them instead."

"Sure, but where are they?"

Gi-hun looks up, "They're up there. At the top of the staircases. They keep everything here running from up in their central control room." He looks back at the group, "There's a man in a black mask who's the head of the operation. If we can get to him, we finally can end this."

In-ho sighs in disagreement, "It's too risky. Even if we manage to get a few guns they'll outnumber us when we try to get out." You feel his hand slide from your back and wrap around your waist.

"What are you suggesting? That we fight the other group through the whole entire night, and hope that we all make it? Is that it, Young-il? Do you really think that's a good plan?" Gi-huns voice is a little raised and you feel In-ho's grip on you tighten.

"Do we... stand a chance?"

"If we can manage an ambush, yes. Those bastards up there, they'll never expect our side to attack. They'll be focused on other things. This is it." You nodded with Dae-ho, ready to fight, "This is our last chance to put an end to these games and make sure they never happen again."

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Once the lights are off, we have to get under our beds as quietly as we can. We can't afford to get caught by the other side. And we know they'll be out for blood." Gi-hun whispers as he slides under his bed.

You and In-ho follow suit, laying on your stomachs as you peer out from under your bed. You feel the contrast between your shaky breaths and his own steady breathing, and you can't comprehend how he could be so calm.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

"I have a plan." In-ho's voice was barely above a whisper, and a shiver runs down your spine at the sound of a woman yelling.

You look at him, "But, what about Gi-hun's plan?"

You didn't miss the small smirk that played on his lips, "Just stay by my side." Without a word In-ho swiftly moves from out of his bed, pulling you with him.

"Wait! What are you-" His hand came to your mouth as you both hugged the wall while discreetly moving towards the small metal door.

In-ho removed his hand to place a short knock. The small window opened, a guard peering through the flap. Without a single question, the door opened, and In-ho was quick to push you through.

You watched as the guard swiftly opened the bathroom door allowing you and In-ho to enter. You turned to the door as it shut behind you before looking at In-ho, "How did that guard just let you through? I don't understand, we have to go back In-ho."

"Or we can stay. We're safe here- you're safe here." He stood on the opposite wall in front of you, watching as you rested your hand on the doorknob.

He knew you were thinking about going back. But he also knew you weren't going to. He had you wrapped around his finger, just like all those years ago. And you knew it too.

You dropped your hand from the doorknob, biting your lip as you feel him slowly stalk towards you. Need courses through your veins as his hand comes from behind and wraps around your neck, his other hand pulls your waist against him. His lips find your neck and you've melted instantly.

His bulge presses harshly against your ass as he sucks and bites your neck with unhuman desire. This wasn't like when you were younger, when you were flustered and shy. No. You were hungry with want and your eyes were filled with lust.

He whips you around, lips on your own now as he moves you backwards to the counter. Your knees go weak and he lifts you with ease, as if you weighed nothing, and places you on the counter. Your fingers dug into his back, desperate for more. Hungry for him.

In-ho bites your lip roughly, and you give him what he wants, opening your lips wider and letting his tongue fuck your mouth. You were intoxicated, In-ho was the man you thought of each night as you fucked yourself, screaming his name into oblivion. And now here he was, hiking your shirt over your head.

"Y/N." Your name slipped from In-ho's mouth swiftly as he lifts your shirt over your head before his lips find your exposed skin. A small whine escapes your lips as his hot mouth gives your cold skin goosebumps.

It was like that small little noise ignited something animalistic within him, a grunt fell off his tongue as he bit your skin. He loved the way you squirmed as he dipped his tongue into your collarbone, his eyes looking up at you.

Sweat slicked your forehead as your head throws back, your bra falling from your tits, landing on the floor. How did he take it off? His hand didnt even-

oh.

Oh.

You looked at the bra, the back was still clasped.But the straps, the straps were ripped. He had ripped your bra off of you with hunger. But, you couldn't focus on the bra anymore as a moan escaped your mouth, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as In-ho rolls your nipple under his tongue.

He trailed sloppy kisses up to your mouth before stepping back, observing you. He pulls his shirt of with ease, "Take off your pants." It was demanding, and you obeyed. Your fingers trembled as you slipped off your bottoms and panties.

In-ho presses his tongue against his cheek, cocking his head as he takes you in piece by piece. You were sprawled out on the counter, your back resting against the mirror and your chest heaved, "What. What are you looking at In-ho."

"I'm thinking about all the bruises your pretty body is going to have after I fuck you."

He sinks to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he delves his tongue into your folds. You gasp, your legs involuntarily locking around his head. His tongue laps as he looks up at you. His nose perfectly brushes your clit, and he knows it as you rock your hips, "Oh, f-fuck. In-ho please."

He smirks against you as you sputter his name. He feels himself growing harder each time you whimper under his mouth. He drinks you up, your taste slicking on his face as you his tongue finds your clit.

One of your hands remove from the edge of the counter and find its way to his hair, "In-ho please," You pull his hair up to make him look at you, "If you stop now, I-I will kill you."

A small chuckle vibrates through your core as his lips latch your clit, rolling it under his tongue. Your legs pull him closer, if possible, and you feel your climax building. You arch your hips, rolling against his mouth as the need to cum grows louder. In-ho roughly laps on your swollen clit, desperate for your release.

And suddenly the earth stops spinning as you dissolve into pleasure, letting yourself unravel under him. Your body jerks as shockwaves move throughout your body, and you let his name roll of your tongue.

"Scoot down." You do as you're told and wiggle your ass until its slightly off the counter. In-ho watches as you still attempt to steady your breathing, smirking as he dips the waist of his pants down.

Your eyes widen as he places one of his hands on the side of your body, letting him tower over you. Your eyes trailed to his other hand that was busy lining his dick up with your core, but his eyes are on you. Waiting to watch your reaction as you take his cock.

He sinks into you, your breath catching and your eyes closing as he doesn't ease you into it, stretching you out. A grunt escapes his mouth at your reaction, you were so beautiful like this.

In-ho leans back and takes a hold of both of your ankles, holding them above you as he sets the pace. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the counter with one hand and cover your mouth with the other.

In-ho quickens the pace with each thrust, pounding into you like a toy. Animalistic grunts escape his mouth, "Y/N, you're so good for me. I've missed this so -fuck- so much."

You whine at his words, desperate attempts to buck your hips failed. He had you pinned down under you, controlling everything. He can feel the way you grip him, lustful tension building in the air, "Atta girl."

Oh fuck, he feels so good. He fits perfectly in you, just like all those years ago. The passion was still there, and god, he made you know it. You're drunk with desire, clenching around him as the pace picks up. His thrusts are sharp, deep, and you can tell he's close.

Your hands find his face, forcing him to look at you. His eyes met yours as his cock hit every. right. spot. His eyes softened, a contrast to his pornoraphic thrusts. In the middle of everything, all the death around you, you rekindled a love you never thought you would experience again.

Your eyes stay locked as the grip on your ankles tightened, In-ho's head dropping slightly as he came, time slowing as waves of electricity engulfed him. Warmth flooded over your body as he pulsed inside of you, gently laying your legs back down before leaning forward.

He pulled you close to him, his hands cupping your face and his thumb gently lifting your chin, "I love you Y/N." A smile displayed on his lips as he kissed you softly.

You bit back a sob, "In-ho... I never stopped loving you. You've been my person, even when you weren't mine."

He kissed you again, this time with promise. A promise of making it out of the games, a promise of love, a promise of hope.

In-ho never thought much of a future. He always saw himself living for the games. He expected to die as the front man, he didn't have anything to lose. But now he does. He has a future now, and it's you. He is not living for the games anymore. He is living for you.

Would you still love him when you find out the truth?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A/N: Hey pookies!! Tysm for all the love recently it's definitely motivated for me to come out of retirement. Pls lmk who I should write for next! I'm in a squid game mood so maybe Gi-hun?

@tsarinaaaz @flowersbloom8787 @vixtyhu @dottoremybbg @fnl9zer @cdej6 @galadoesart @watasinekoru @icantcryicantstopcrying @seasaltrasp @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @gurjxxpp11

[stylesispunk]

'Landed too hard'

outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You save Joel's life from raiders but instead of thanking you, he gets mad at you.

or

You get hurt and you are forced to be vulnerable with each other.

wc: 7k

warnings: age gap, established relationship, angst, fluff, miscommunication, insecurities, mentions of blood, and fluff

a/n: i'm slowly coming back to this with this baby here that was on my drafts. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

The forest was too quiet for your liking. No birds, no wind—Just the soft crunch of the snowy ground beneath your feet as you followed Joel who was ahead of you and Ellie. There was something in the air this day, eerie silence pressing on your chest, tension, and Joel had been on edge all day, his broad shoulder seemed tense under his jacker, his grip on the rifle tighter than usual.

It felt like the premonition of something bad coming on your way. So, you kept your knife close and your gun pressed under your hand.

“We’ll set up camp soon,” Joel muttered, his voice low without looking behind to you and Ellie.

Ellie groaned. “Finally. My feet feel like they’re gonna fall soon.”

You gave her a tired smile at her remark, but your eyes stayed on Joel. His jaw was tight, the scar above his brow crinkling deeper. You knew him well enough to read the signs—he was worried. More than usual.

That’s why you didn’t even hear them coming.

One second, you were walking behind Joel, and the next, chaos broke out. Shouts echoed through the trees. Five, maybe six men, all armed came out from nowhere. Joel shoved you and Ellie behind an overturned log.

“Stay down,” he growled, pressing his rifle into your hands. “If anyone gets close, you shoot. Don’t move unless I say so.”

“Joel—”

“Stay.”

You swallowed your fear and nodded, grabbing Ellie and pulling her down. Joel stepped out, drawing their attention, firing a shot that took one of the men down, then another and so on.

But the rest came fast. Through the cracks in the log, you watched Joel fight. He moved like a man who’d done this too many times, but even then, it was too much. One of the raiders tackled him, and suddenly, Joel was on the ground, with one of those men’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.

the man’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.

“Shit,” you whispered, your heart pounding so hard you could barely hear Ellie’s panicked breathing next to you.

Joel clawed at the man’s wrists, his face turning red, veins bulging in his neck. He wasn’t going to get out of it and you couldn’t just sit there watching the man you loved die in front of you.

“Stay here,” you told Ellie, voice shaking from rage.

“Wait…what are you doing?!” she whispered.

Your body moved before your mind could argue. You were already running before Ellie could have the chance to stop you.

You tackled the man strangling Joel, knocking him off balance, but before you could finish him, another set of hands grabbed you from behind. You struggled, kicking and clawing, managing to land a sharp elbow into the man’s ribs before twisting free. The first man lunged again, but you dodged, feeling the burn of a knife slicing across your cheek. The pain barely registered as you drove your own blade into the man’s neck, then turned and plunged it into the second attacker’s chest before he could recover. Warm blood splattered your hands as the man crumpled, gasping his last breath.

You stood there, panting, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Joel coughed violently, rolling onto his side, his face pale and drenched in sweat. You dropped to your knees beside him, your hands hovering uselessly. “Joel? Hey—hey, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, still gasping for air. When he finally sat up, his brown eyes locked onto yours—not with gratitude, but with pure, burning rage.

“The fuck were you thinking?” he rasped, voice raw.

You blinked, the adrenaline still rushing through you. “I—I had to. He was going to—”

“You didn’t listen to me!” Joel slammed his fist into the dirt, his whole-body trembling with anger. “I told you to stay hidden! What if he’d killed you?!”

“Well, he didn’t” you stated, “I saved your life!”

“And you risked yours doing it!”

His voice echoed through the trees, sharp and unforgiving. You felt your chest tighten, heat rising in your throat.

“I’m not some helpless girl you can just shove behind a log, Joel! I did what I had to!”

Joel stood up, wiping the blood from his hands. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything else. The space between you felt impossibly wide.

He ran a hand over his face, stepping back like he couldn’t even look at you. "You put yourself in danger. You could’ve been killed. Do you even get that?"

"I get that I just saved your ass!" You shot back, the weight of the moment crashing over you. "And all you can do is yell at me?"

He exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists before he turned away. "I ain't doin' this."

"Fine," you bit out.

The air between you felt thick, suffocating. You glanced at Ellie, who stood off to the side, arms crossed, her expression tense.

You lifted a hand to your cheek, your fingers coming away sticky with blood. The cut burned now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and you sucked in a sharp breath. Ellie’s eyes flicked to the wound, concern flashing across her face, but she didn’t say anything. Joel still wasn’t looking at you, his back rigid as he adjusted his pack.

"We should get moving," he muttered, voice low and strained.

You nodded, swallowing down the ache in your throat. Without another word, the three of you fell into step, the silence stretching between you like an open wound

That night, you found a small clearing tucked between dense trees, far enough from the road to feel safe. The cold had settled deep, and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you sat near the weak glow of the fire. Joel had barely spoken a word since the fight, his focus set on keeping watch, his back to you.

You weren’t hurt by his words or the outburst he had, but by the idea of him willingly die and feeling at peace with it. How easy would be for him to left you behind and in your own.

You dismissed your thoughts as you dug through your pack for a rag, pressing it against the wound on your cheek. The sting made you wince, and you cursed under your breath.

A quiet shuffling caught your attention, and you looked up to see Ellie kneeling beside you, her brows furrowed.

"Here," she said, pulling a small bottle of alcohol from her pocket. "Let me help."

You hesitated for a moment, then gave her a small nod. She dampened the cloth with the antiseptic and reached for your face. The touch was gentle, but the sting made you hiss.

"Sorry," Ellie murmured, concentrating as she cleaned the cut. "You’re lucky it’s not deeper."

You let out a small chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in it. "Lucky isn’t exactly how I’d describe this day.”

Ellie huffed, finishing up before pulling a bandage from her pack. "Well, you’re not dead, so that counts for something."

You smiled faintly, glancing toward Joel. He still hadn’t turned around. You sighed, looking back at Ellie. "Thanks, kid."

She just shrugged, but there was warmth in her eyes. "Anytime."

As the fire crackled softly between you, you finally felt a small sense of comfort—at least, from Ellie. Joel, on the other hand, was still a storm brewing on the other side of camp.

Joel sat a few feet away, his gaze drifting to you as he kept watch. He noticed the way you shivered, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, but still, you slept. He hesitated, jaw tightening as he debated with himself. Then, with a quiet sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over you.

You stirred slightly at the added warmth, a small, unconscious sigh escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake. Joel lingered for a moment, watching you, before settling back down next to you as if he needed to remind himself you were still here.

The fire in your camp had burned down to glowing embers, the scent of smoke mixing with the cool morning air. Joel sat near it, his hands wrapped around his termo, sipping coffee our from it, his eyes occasionally flicking over to where you slept.

Your back was to him, your body curled slightly, the jacket pulled high over your shoulder. The cut ran along your cheekbone from the fight the day before—a fight that left you and Joel in a tense, suffocating silence. Reminding him how you always put yourself in danger for him.

He hated himself for it. How he had came to the point where he felt useless.

Now, in the morning light, you looked peaceful despite the frown that creased your forehead. Joel knew that look. He knew you too well.

Ellie stirred next to him, stretching before getting to her feet. She glanced at you, then back at Joel. “Should I wake her up?” she asked, rubbing her tired eyes.

Joel shook his head. “Not yet.”

Ellie raised a brow. “Why?”

Joel sighed, glancing at you again before taking another sip of coffee. “She’s got a frown.”

Ellie blinked. “Yeah, ‘cause she’s mad at you. Even in her sleep.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, but there wasn’t much fight in it. “No. It’s different. She gets that when she gets a migraine.” He ran a hand over his beard, glancing at you again. “Let her sleep a little longer.”

Ellie’s teasing smirk faded slightly, replaced by something softer. “You really pay attention, huh?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another slow sip of coffee, staring into the fire. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “When it comes to her of course I do.”

Ellie sighed, dropping back down onto the log next to him. “So… you gonna fix this or what?”

Joel tensed, setting his cup down beside him. “She doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

“Yeah, because you yelled at her.” She reminded him.

Joel rubbed a hand down his face. “She shouldn’t have done what she did.”

“She saved your ass, Joel.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “That ain’t the point.”

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, it kinda is. She did what you would’ve done for her.”

Joel was silent, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“Do you think she would be fine if you were dead?” she pressed on, sighing.

Instead of answer, Joel reached for his bag, unbuckling the strap. He knew exactly where to look, tucked inside one of the side pockets were the pills he always carried for you, just in case.

Ellie, who had been watching with quiet curiosity, tilted her head. “Wait… you carry her pills?”

Joel didn’t look up as he pulled out the small bottle, checking how many were left. “Yeah.” His voice was gruff, like he didn’t think it was something worth mentioning.

Ellie crossed her arms. “Huh.”

Joel finally glanced at her. “What?”

Ellie smirked. “Nothin’. Just—you act all tough, but you’re, like, secretly the softest person ever for her.”

Joel rolled his eyes, muttering, “Keep it to yourself, kid,” as he moved toward you.

You stirred slightly as he knelt beside you, brushing your hair back from your face with a careful hand. The sight of the cut on your cheek made his stomach twist again, but he pushed the feeling down. He had already failed to keep you from getting hurt once, he wouldn’t fail you now.

Gently, he set the bottle of pills down next to you, along with a canteen of water. He knew you still weren’t talking to him, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop taking care of you.

As he sat back, Ellie watched him with something unreadable in her expression. “Still mad, huh?”

Joel sighed, rubbing his thumb over the strap of your bag.

Ellie nodded. “Well… you’re doin’ the right thing, at least.”

Joel wasn’t sure about that. But as he sat there, keeping watch while you slept, he figured it was all he could do for now.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the dull ache in your head. The second was the soft sound of the fire crackling nearby. You blinked against the morning light, your body still heavy with exhaustion.

And then you saw the canteen and the small bottle of pills sitting beside you. You didn’t have to ask who put them there.

Your gaze flickered to Joel, who sat a few feet away, his back turned slightly toward you. He was sharpening his knife, the rhythmic scrape of metal against stone filling the quiet space. Ellie sat across from him, kicking at the dirt with her boot, sneaking glances at you like she was waiting to see what you’d do.

You swallowed, your throat dry. Carefully, you pushed yourself up, wincing as your muscles protested. Your fingers brushed against the bottle of pills, and you hesitated before finally picking it up.

Joel’s voice came before you could say anything. “Drink some water with that.”

It was quiet. Gruff. Like he wasn’t sure where the two of you stood after yesterday.

You pressed your lips together, debating whether to respond, but you didn’t have the energy to fight again. Instead, you obeyed, twisting the cap off and dry-swallowing the pill before chasing it with a sip of water.

Joel didn’t look at you, but you saw his shoulders drop just a little.

Ellie, of course, didn’t stay quiet for long. “Sooo… does this mean you guys are done being mad at each other?

You shot her a look. “Ellie.”

“What? I’m just saying’—”

Joel cut in; his voice flat. “Eat your breakfast.”

Ellie huffed but dropped it, tearing off a piece of jerky with her teeth.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before stealing a glance at Joel. His eyes were still fixed on his knife, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the handle a little too tightly.

He was waiting. For you to say something. For you to forgive him.

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples in a weak attempt to ease the pressure in your skull. It wasn’t working. Nothing ever really worked, except for him.

Joel had a way of grounding you when the pain got bad. He didn’t always have the right words, but he never needed them. He had his own way of taking care of you, of letting you know he was there. And right now, all you wanted was for him to kiss your temples the way he used to.

The way he always did when you were hurting.

But things weren’t the same. You had fought, you had pulled away, and he had let you. And now, even though he was right there, he felt miles away.

You swallowed hard and shut your eyes, trying to push down the disappointment twisting in your chest. It was stupid to want that from him right now. After everything, you shouldn’t need him like that.

Except you did.

Joel shifted, and you felt him move closer, his presence clear even before he spoke. “Did you take the pills?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence, and then, so softly you almost missed it— “Still hurts?”

You hesitated. Your pride screamed at you to say no. To brush him off and keep that last little bit of distance between you. But you were tired.

“Yeah,” you admitted.

Joel exhaled slowly. And then, finally, finally, you felt his fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head just enough so he could lean in.

His lips pressed against your temple, warm and steady, lingering for just a second longer than they needed to.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“Get ready, we have to go now” he spoke, still closer to your face.

You nodded, your throat tightening at the sudden shift back to reality. The moment was brief, fleeting, just like every soft thing between you and Joel seemed to be.

He pulled away first, his hand dropping from your face like he hadn’t just touched you like you meant something to him. Like he hadn’t just kissed you the way he always used to when you were hurting.

You cleared your throat, pushing yourself up slightly, ignoring the dull ache in your chest "Yeah, okay," you muttered, rubbing at your face as if you could wipe away the lingering warmth of his touch.

Joel stood up, already shifting back into that closed-off version of himself, the one that had been there ever since your fight. The one that didn’t know how to bridge the gap now.

Ellie walked in just as you were attempting to stand, her eyes flicking between the two of you. "You guys look weird," she said, frowning. "Like... extra weird."

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Not now, Ellie."

She just smirked, clearly entertained by whatever tension was hanging in the air. "Whatever you say, lovebirds."

You rolled your eyes, reaching for your bag to distract yourself. Your fingers trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, but you pretended not to notice. Joel pretended too, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you, watching you too closely like he always did.

The road stretched ahead, cracked and broken, nature reclaiming what once belonged to people. You walked in silence, the weight of the morning still pressing against your chest. Your head ached, but you bit down on the pain, refusing to let it slow you down.

Joel was beside you, his steps steady, his presence solid as ever. But something about him felt distant. He was looking at you, you could feel his gaze flickering toward you every few moments, but it wasn’t the same. Not like before.

Before, his eyes had been filled with something warm, something certain. But now? Now, it felt like he was watching you from behind a wall, like he was making sure you were still there but refusing to let himself feel anything about it.

Ellie, for once, was quiet, kicking a stray rock as she walked ahead, letting the tension settle between the two of you.

Joel’s outburst had been raw, desperate, his voice breaking, his hands gripping yours like he could tether you to him. But now, you saw it for what it was. Fear. Not just of losing you. But of what it meant if he didn’t.

Because Joel didn’t think he deserved to have you. He thought he wasn’t enough, that he never had been. And maybe… maybe he never would be.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. "You don’t have to keep looking at me like that," you muttered, not even turning your head.

Joel tensed beside you. "Like what?"

"Like you're waiting for me to cry to let you in and forgive you shout at me.”

His jaw ticked, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say anything at all. But then—

"I am not," he said, voice rough. A lie.

You stopped walking. Finally, you turned to face him. "Then what is it?" you asked, your voice softer than you meant for it to be. "Because you had been like this for week, something's been different and yesterday you just broke."

Joel exhaled slowly, looking away, his hands on his hips, his fingers flexing. "Nothing’s different."

You huffed out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Bullshit."

Ellie stopped a few steps ahead, glancing between the two of you like she wanted to intervene but thought better of it.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders stiff, his mouth opening—then closing again. He had no answer. No real one, anyway.

Because the truth was, it had never been about you. It had always been about him. About the way he would rather push you away than let himself believe, even for a second, that he was allowed to keep you. That you would want to stay.

That you would choose him. But you were tired of being the only one fighting for this.

So, you just nodded, setting your jaw. "Alright," you murmured, turning back toward the road, ignoring the way your chest ached. "If nothing’s different, then let’s just keep moving."

He Heard the way your voice broke at the end and he just watched as you joined Ellie.

Joel stood there, hands tightening into fists at his sides as he watched you walk away. He’d done this—again.

He had Hurt you.

He told himself it was for the best, that it was the only way to keep you safe. But that excuse was starting to sound as hollow as he felt.

Ellie shot him a glance, her expression unreadable before she turned her attention back to you. She said something low under her breath, nudging your shoulder. You didn’t look back.

And Joel? Joel just stood there, rooted in place, watching the one thing he was most afraid of slip through his fingers.

Because, deep down, he knew. It wasn’t the world that would take you from him. It was him. It was a matter of time.

A few hours later, when cold still found its way deep down your bones. You followed Joel and Ellie into the old market, the air inside thick with dust and the remnants of a world long gone. The faded signs above the shop windows once advertised fruits and vegetables, but now they were nothing more than silent witnesses to the decay around them.

Joel stepped into the shadows first, scanning the area with ease. His hand never strayed far from the rifle slung across his back. He wasn’t just looking for supplies—he was looking for danger, as always, he was ready to find it. You watched him move with that quiet confidence that made him seem invincible, even though you knew better. The way he held himself, as if the weight of the world was constantly on his shoulders.

He disappeared behind a corner, moving into the heart of the market.

Ellie, always ready for adventure, shifted impatiently next to you. “Think it’s safe?” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the market.

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes fixed on the place where Joel had vanished. You could feel the tension coiling between the two of you, that invisible thread that had been growing tighter over the last few hours. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“He’ll let us know when it’s safe,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes away from him.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly not fully convinced. “Yeah, but what if-”

You cut her off with a shake of your head. “He’s careful. He’ll check everything first.”

She didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the answer, but she stayed quiet. You both waited in silence, the only sounds the distant hum of the wind and the occasional creak of the building settling.

Then, Joel’s voice echoed from ahead. “Clear,” he called out as he reappeared from behind a row of shelves, his gaze briefly flicking over you before he turned to lead the way deeper into the market. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the wariness beneath it.

His fingers found their way to your shoulders, his touch was brief, just the slightest brush of his fingers against your jacket. A silent reassurance. Or maybe a habit he couldn't break.

You didn’t react, didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you focused on scanning the shelves, looking for anything useful. Cans, medical supplies.

Ellie was already rummaging through a shelf, muttering under her breath about how people really liked canned beans before the world went to hell. Joel moved ahead, his rifle held tight as he checked the corners, ever cautious.

You bent down, shifting through a pile of toppled boxes, when Joel’s voice came from behind you. “You good?”

It was automatic, the way he asked. Like even when he was keeping his distance, he still couldn’t help but care.

You hesitated, keeping your back to him. “Yeah.”

Another pause. Then a quiet, “Alright.”

But it wasn’t alright.

Not the way his voice sounded. Not the way your chest ached every time he was close but not close enough. And definitely not the way his fingers had lingered just a second too long on your shoulder, as if he didn’t want to let go.

Joel was already moving toward another section of the market, scanning the rows of empty shelves, searching for anything of value. Ellie had drifted further ahead, already rummaging through a crate she found. You stayed close to the wall, the building’s dilapidated structure making you nervous, but you tried not to let the unease show. You knew Joel was doing his best to keep everyone safe, but the weight of everything—of what you had lost, of what you were still fighting for—was starting to catch up with you.

You took a few more steps, carefully picking your way over the cracked floor, when suddenly, the ground beneath you gave way with a sharp, unsettling creak. Before you could react, your foot twisted, the bone snapping like a twig under the weight of the fall.

A sharp, searing pain shot through your ankle as you cried out, unable to stop yourself. The world spun for a moment as you collapsed, hands pressing to the ground to catch yourself, but the pain in your ankle was unbearable. You let out a sharp gasp, fighting the urge to cry out again as you felt something shift beneath the skin, your foot didn’t feel right.

"Shit," you muttered, trying to stay calm, but panic crept in with each breath. Your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull yourself up, but your foot wouldn’t hold any weight. You couldn’t put it down.

Ellie’s voice broke through the fog of pain, distant but growing closer. “What happened?”

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice followed almost immediately. You could hear the panic lacing his tone, the urgency in his steps as he turned back toward you. You felt the weight of his presence before you saw him, his figure coming into view, moving fast.

He saw you on the ground, your face twisted in pain, and his heart dropped. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, kneeling down beside you with a speed that surprised you. His hands were gentle, but you could hear the frustration in his voice as he assessed the damage. "What the hell happened?"

“I—I fell,” you stammered, gritting your teeth as you tried to hold back more of the pain. You couldn’t focus on anything other than your ankle, the way it throbbed, the way your body seemed to give way under the weight of it.

Joel’s face hardened, his jaw clenching as he reached down to carefully touch your injured ankle. “I’m gonna need you to stay still, alright?” His voice was calm, but there was a warning edge to it. He was trying to hold himself together, trying not to let his worry show, but you could see it in his eyes. His hands worked quickly, checking for anything more serious, his brow furrowed with concentration.

“Ellie, get over here,” Joel called out, his voice low and strained.

Ellie rushed back toward you, eyes wide with concern as she knelt beside you. “Shit, are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to sound stronger than you felt. “It’s just my ankle.”

Joel’s gaze flicked between you and Ellie, his mind clearly racing. “We need to get you out of here, now.” His hand gripped your shoulder for a moment, his fingers digging into the fabric of your jacket as if grounding himself in that brief contact.

Ellie was already standing, her expression determined as she took a deep breath. “I’ll go grab what we need.”

Joel nodded, but his focus never left you. He reached down, his hands carefully lifting you as he positioned himself behind you. "I'm gonna carry you. It's gonna hurt a little, but I need you to hang on."

You bit back a hiss of pain as he adjusted his hold on you, making sure not to jostle your foot too much, but you couldn’t suppress the way your body tensed at the movement. The pain was still sharp, but there was something comforting in the way Joel’s arms secured around you.

“Joel…” you whispered, too exhausted to speak louder.

“I got you,” he muttered back, his voice almost a promise. "Just hang in there."

As he started to move, carrying you carefully toward a safer corner, you could feel your heart rate begin to slow, your pulse steadying slightly in the rhythm of his steps. But the ache in your ankle still lingered, a constant reminder of how fragile everything really was.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the pain, trying to find some semblance of peace in the way Joel had his arms around you. Because no matter how mad you were, no matter how much you weren’t talking to him, Joel Miller was always going to take care of you.

Joel helped you settle into a quiet corner of the abandoned store, easing you down onto an old crate. He crouched in front of you, his hands steady as he pulled your boot off, careful not to jostle your ankle too much.

Ellie hovered for a second, glancing between the two of you, then rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’m gonna go check the other side of the store. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

You didn’t respond. Joel didn’t either.

Once Ellie disappeared, Joel focused back on your ankle, pulling out a roll of bandages from his pack. He was quiet as he started wrapping, his fingers gentle but firm, pressing just enough to support your injury.

You watched him for a moment, then let out a quiet scoff. “You don’t have to pretend you care about this.”

Joel’s hands stilled. His jaw ticked. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours.

“You think I’m pretending?” His voice was low, rough. Almost offended by the way your voice sounded saying those words.

You looked away, focusing on the peeling paint on the walls. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Joel. One second, you’re mad at me. The next, you’re acting like—like this.” You gestured vaguely at him. “Like it actually matters.”

Joel exhaled through his nose, sitting back on his heels. “It does matter.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Does it? Because you sure as hell didn’t act like it when you were yelling at me.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I was mad because you almost got yourself killed.”

“I was saving you.” You protested.

“I don’t need saving” He replied, rough as always.

Your eyes snapped back to his, anger flashing in them. “And I don’t need you acting like I don’t have a say in whether or not I protect you. You can’t just decide for me, Joel.”

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He looked exhausted, like he was carrying too much weight on his shoulders. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “I can’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

You frowned, your voice softer now. “Can’t what?”

His gaze met yours again, something raw behind it. “I can’t lose you.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sound was the faint wind outside, the rustling of leaves.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “You think I want to lose you?”

Joel’s expression softened just a fraction. He sighed, reaching forward, his hand hesitating before resting gently on your knee.

Your breath caught. The fight, the tension, it was still there, but underneath it was something deeper. Something neither of you had the words for just yet.

“You are always so willing to die,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “Like you’re just waiting for the exact moment. Like none of this matters to you. Like I don’t matter.”

Joel’s breath hitched. His grip on you tightened, grounding you, but he didn’t say anything.

You sniffed, shaking your head. “Do you even know what that does to me? How it makes me feel?”

He swallowed hard, his throat working around the words he wasn’t saying.

“You walk into danger like you’ve already made peace with dying,” you continued, your voice raw. “And maybe you have. Maybe you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I care. And you make me watch you throw yourself into danger like it doesn’t matter if you make it out. Like you don’t care if I have to watch you—”

Your voice cut off as a sob wracked through you.

Joel let out a slow breath. Then, finally, he spoke. “I do care,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

You let out a bitter laugh, swiping at your tears. “You sure don’t act like it.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. His gaze dropped for a moment before he forced himself to look at you. “I’m not waiting to die.”

You scoffed, looking away.

“I’m not” he insisted. His voice was rough, firm. “I just…I don’t know how to do this. How to—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before gripping the back of his neck. “I spent twenty years not giving a damn about whether I made it out of alive. And then you—” He stopped, shaking his head like he didn’t have the words.

You stared at him, waiting. His gaze met yours again, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable.

"Do you think I would survive without you?" You asked him.

"You're strong." he stated.  

"That doesn't matter if the person I love and I protect throws himself to death" you said, tired of the cycle.

“I’m not trying to--” he started, but you cut him off.

“Yes, you are,” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You act like you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I do. And I don’t know what’s worse—watching you run into danger without thinking or knowing that if you died, you’d probably think I’d just move on.”

His brows furrowed. “That ain’t—”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around Joel’s wrist. “Do you love me, Joel?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw tensed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say it—that maybe, after everything, he’d still hold back.

But then, his hand moved, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing over the cut on your cheek. His touch was careful, reverent, like he was memorizing you.

“I do,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. “More than I know how to say.”

Your breath stilled.

Joel exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “More than I ever meant to. More than I know what to do with.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in his voice.

“Then stop trying to leave me behind,” you whispered, pleading to him.

He looked at you with such intensity, as if he was trying to see past the pain and fear, trying to understand something that had always eluded him.

“How do you even love someone like me?” Joel’s voice cracked slightly, the question laced with vulnerability, a side of him you rarely saw—something raw and unprotected.

Your heart hurt at the sound of it. You wanted to reach out and erase the doubt from his mind, to tell him that he didn’t have to question it. But instead, you just looked at him, letting the silence linger for a moment, trying to gather the right words to answer him.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm, “I love you because you’re you. Because through all the broken pieces, all the walls you’ve built around yourself, I still see the man who’s been there for me. You’re not perfect, none of us are. But you’re the one I want. You’re the one I need.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if taking in your words, processing them, before meeting your gaze again. His expression softened, the tightness in his jaw easing, but there was still that guarded look in his eyes. He was trying to fight something inside himself, something he had carried for so long.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, almost to himself, but you heard it loud and clear. The doubt in his voice, something he couldn’t shake.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, forcing him to see the truth in your eyes. “Stop saying that,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “You deserve me. You deserve everything good that’s coming your way. I’ve seen who you are, Joel. You’re not what you think you are.”

“Why do you think I keep pushing you away?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, like he was afraid of the answer himself.

You leaned in a little closer, your forehead nearly touching his, and your breath mingled in the quiet space between you. “Because you’re scared of letting yourself love me the way you do,” you said softly. “You’re scared of losing me. But pushing me away won’t make it any easier. It’ll just leave you with a regret you can’t undo.”

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as if your words had struck a chord in him, but it wasn’t enough to break him completely, not yet.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m afraid if I let myself love you fully... if I let myself need you the way I do… I won’t be able to protect you. I can’t live with that.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek as you reached up to wipe it away, the tenderness in his voice catching you off guard. You could feel the pain in his words, the depth of his fear, and it only made you love him more.

Joel’s hand gently moved to your ankle, and despite everything that had just been said, the tenderness in his touch wasn’t lost on you. His rough fingers brushed against your skin as he carefully positioned your leg. You winced slightly at the discomfort, but it wasn’t the pain from your ankle that caught your attention—it was the way his eyes never left you, the quiet care he was showing in that moment.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his voice low, trying to keep his own emotions in check. You could tell he was trying to be calm for you, even though you knew he was anything but calm inside.

Joel’s fingers moved gently over your ankle, wrapping the bandage with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. His touch was steady, and for once, it was soft, more like the careful tenderness of someone who didn’t want to hurt you, rather than the harshness that often came with survival.

You winced slightly when the bandage tightened, but he immediately eased his grip, looking at you with concern.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why, but his care made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

Once your ankle was properly secured, Joel leaned back, looking at you for a moment, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place in them. He didn’t speak for a while, just stared at you like he was trying to decide something in his mind.

Joel’s gaze went to your ankle for a moment, then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward, his lips brushing the soft skin of your bandaged ankle. It was a gesture so tender, so unexpected, that you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Don’t laugh,” he murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice remained quiet, almost apologetic. “I’m just trying to make it better.”

You shook your head, still chuckling lightly, the sound feeling strange after everything that had happened. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Joel,” you said, meeting his eyes with a smile. “It’s just... never thought you’d be kissing my ankle better.”

Joel’s smirk softened into something more tender, and for a moment, there was nothing between you but the quiet understanding. His eyes dropped back to your ankle for a brief second before lifting to meet yours once more, his expression serious.  Without another word, he moved closer, his hand reaching to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your skin with the same tenderness he had shown when tending to your injury. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his lips just a breath away.

And then, without hesitation, he kissed you, soft, lingering, as if it was a promise, as if it was everything, he hadn’t been able to say before. You leaned into it, letting the kiss speak for you both, the tension between you finally easing, at least for this moment.

“Oh, come on! Seriously?” Ellie’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.

You and Joel broke apart instantly, your breath still tangled in his, as you turned to see Ellie standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a smirk pulling at her lips.

Joel cleared his throat and sat back slightly, rubbing a hand over his beard like that would somehow erase what she’d just walked in on.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I leave you two alone for five minutes, and you’re already making out. Unbelievable.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatic tone. “Ellie—”

“No, no,” she interrupted, waving a hand. “I mean, it’s kinda sweet, but gross.”

Joel shot her a look, his voice flat. “Ellie.”

“What?” She shrugged, grinning. “Just saying. But, uh—maybe save the romance for later, lovebirds? We kinda got shit to do.”

Joel exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but when he glanced at you again, you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“C’mon,” he muttered, standing up and offering you a hand. “We should get movin’.”

You took his hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go. As you stood, Ellie shot you both a smug look before turning on her heel.

As she walked away, you heard her mutter under her breath, “God, I hope I never have to see that again.”

As soon as you put weight on your injured ankle, a sharp pain shot up your leg, making you wince. You bit down on a curse, trying to tough it out, but Joel noticed immediately.

“Joel, it’s fine, I can walk,” you protested, but you could see the look in his eyes, the one that said, no argument.

“Not gonna argue with me on this one. Up you go.” Before you could protest, he crouched slightly in front of you. “Get on.” He waited for you to settle onto his back, and you reluctantly complied, knowing it would be easier than walking on your own.

You blinked at him. “Joel, I can—”

He shot you a look over his shoulder. “I'm not asking...”

Ellie snorted. “Just get on, lovebird.”

You sighed, but there was no real fight left in you. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he hooked his arms under your legs and lifted you effortlessly.

“Easy, old man,” you teased, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Joel huffed, adjusting his grip. “Call me that again, and I’m dropping you.”

You laughed softly, “Thanks,” you muttered after a moment, your face buried in his jacket, still feeling the warmth of his body. The way he carried you felt like a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you needed until now.

You sighed against him, letting yourself relax just a little as Joel carried you forward with steady steps. Without thinking, you pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, just above the collar of his jacket.

Joel stiffened for half a second, his grip on your legs tightening before he exhaled slowly. “You trying to distract me?” His voice was lower now, rougher.

A smirk played on your lips. “Is it working?”

He huffed, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

You laughed, placing another kiss on the same spot, “I love you, Joel.”

His steps faltered for just a moment, barely noticeable, but you felt it. His grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing into your legs like he needed to ground himself.

He didn’t answer right away, just kept walking, his jaw tight. For a second, you thought maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all.

But then, in that quiet, gruff voice of his, he murmured, “I love you too, darling. Always”.

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotage you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed- down bad) rec drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, fluff/smut AND light angst- violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- Stand up 69.... yep I said it, a HELL of a breed kink, mating press, cumplay, oral sex (m and f receiving) size kink like a MF- Sukuna is huge mmkayyy- rough sex, he's hard in the bed but soft outside of it hehe, angsty in places, and emotional. Get to know Toji more hehe- a little bit of everything <3 WC- 7k

Will be eight parts- ties into my Mob Gojo story- you'll see him and the reader fromt here in here- this chap takes place after chap two of that one- but you can read it alone. Art in the banner is by Sketch B on X

Reblogs/comments so appreciated if you enjoyy!

<<<Part Five Playlist Masterlist Part seven>>>

Part Six

“The new leader of the Kamo family, hmm?” Sukuna murmurs, sitting across from the dark haired man named Choso, who looked so out of place he wanted to laugh, looking away from the strippers and shaking his head.

“He’s cute.” You murmur, earning Sukuna’s scowl, pinching your hip so hard you gasp. “Not like that!”

“I’ll make you pay for that and last night later.” He murmurs, jaw tense as you sit right on his lap so pretty, you’re not dressed to dance because you’re just here for the meeting with him, but your skirt rides up enough he can get a good grip of that nice ass of yours. “Getting excited?”

“Shush!” He smirks as he feels your heat on his thigh, just like the first time he asked you to come sit, the time he fell for you harder and harder.

But the truth is Sukuna fell the moment he met you, though he’s not quite sure you know that yet. He slips down the thin black strap of your top and takes some of the white powder now, tapping it along your bare shoulder, while the men talk, mentioning the man he hates more than anyone, your ex, making him stiffen just a bit.

“The Zenin won’t be any friends of mine.” Choso says calmly, smiling sweetly at one of the bartenders that brings him a drink. “Thank you, pretty.”

You watch Satoru scowl as he yanks the bartender Sukuna has just hired on his lap then, glaring at Choso, while you smile softly at your friend. She’s been through it with her own trouble from what Satoru has just shared, worse than you or Sukuna even knew, and you’re glad to see Satoru look up at her with those big blue eyes of his, clearly obsessed.

“My bartender.” He declares, making Suguru and Toji chuckle, but Sukuna is too busy scowling at you.

“Attention, brat. Give me it now.” You giggle, breathless, brushing his pastel locks back as he rolls a hundred, licking it while the music is reverberating in the huge VIP room, two girls are dancing on Toji, one on Suguru, and more trying to capture Choso’s attention. All while Satoru and your friend clearly need a room.

“It’s a lot going on is all, Kuna, I’m sorry.” He shuts his eyes, his pretty pink lashes fluttering when you press a kiss on his cheek. “You have all my attention.”

“I fucking better.” You’re giggling again until he snorts that powder off your neck, lapping it up with the tip of his tongue and pulling you tight.

“Are you ever gonna let her dance again?” Suguru asks Sukuna then, earning the look of death and everyone's laugh but Sukuna’s.

“The fuck?”

“She’s a hell of a dancer.” Toji winks over at you, making you roll your eyes, feeling your huge boyfriend tense under you.

“Sure the fuck won’t. She’s retired.”

“Kuna I’m like twenty five!?”

“Retired. Now back to business.” He presses a kiss on your neck, a hand on your thigh casually, pulling you further on his lap. “We deal with Mei, she’s likely collecting debt for the Zenin.”

“I want to deal with her, personally.” Satoru says then, his jaw locked as he grips his girl tightly, and you catch her flushed cheeks and glittery eyes.

“Satoru, you can’t go running around provoking everyone without backup.” Suguru, ever the voice of reason murmurs, lighting up a blunt, the smoke fogging up the room, while a pretty girl inhales the smoke he blows into her mouth. He pulls back then, no cough in sight, a professional. “I’ll go with you.”

“We have history.” Satoru mumbles, and Sukuna laughs then, shaking his head.

“Well who hasn’t fucked Mei?” Sukuna says amusedly.

“What now?” You demand, and Sukuna rolls his red eyes.

“I did too, I think I was eighteen.” Suguru admits, as Satoru stares at them all with an open mouth.

“What?” Satoru’s turn to demand, and Toji shrugs.

“I fucked her with Shiu Kong, threesome.” The boys are snickering, as you continue to stare in confusion.

“Okay so everyone fucked this Mei lady, so can we make her stop being a bitch to my friend?” You say now, and the room sobers up.

“We sure will, pookie, don’t worry.” Satoru says to you, before looking back at Suguru. “But I wanna go alone.” 

“Fine, Satoru, but if she gets with the Zenin…” Suguru trails off then, frowning. “Wait, Choso hasn’t fucked her, there is someone here who hasn’t.”

“Well I sure don’t want to, whoever she is.” Choso takes a blunt from Suguru’s hand, surprising you all. “Think I don’t smoke?”

“You seem like a goody goody.” Sukuna muses, earning your pinch.

“You seem sweet.”

“Well thank you.” He says, smiling as he leans over handing you the blunt, and Sukuna yanks it from his hands.

“She doesn’t smoke.” You can’t stop the affection you feel, while Sukuna inhales the blunt, making sure to blow it away from you. “Naoya is a problem, a big one, as he won’t back the fuck off.”

“I’m fine with the Kamo family meeting with the Zenin, to warn them, if you think that’s a good first step?” Choso says, and now Toji scoffs.

“He’s a little fuck face, he’ll still try shit. I say take him out.” Toji says it so carelessly, shrugging a broad shoulder.

“Toji…” You start, he shakes his head.

“Sorry doll, my opinion.”

“Let’s take Mei out too.” Satoru says with a batshit crazy grin.

“Satoru!” His girl says admonishingly, as he pouts up at her, and she brushes a hand through his snowy locks. “No killing.”

“Do you know what a mafia is, baby girl?” He asks, and she sighs, as do you, shaking your heads.

“The solution can’t just be ‘taking people out’.” Choso agrees, while Satoru angrily hits the blunt, rolling his eyes.

“Boring.” Satoru grumbles.

“Boring.” Toji agrees.

“Boring.” That’s Sukuna, making you gasp, as Suguru grimaces, burying his head in his hands.

“You all exhaust me. I think I’ll like Choso here.” He puts a hand on the dark haired man’s shoulder, and he smiles a bit.

“Let’s try to threaten them.” Gojo says, and the room all reluctantly agree. “I’ll deal with Mei, Choso can deal with the Zenin before we get Sukuna involved.”

“The fuck, why?”

“Because you’ll kill him.” Toji mutters, snorting a line off the new bottle girl’s neck, sighing as he does. “I don’t blame ya, but don’t act like you won’t.”

“I may not… kill him. Maybe? Not definitely.”

“Kuna…”

“Don’t you Kuna me.”

“Kuna.” Toji mimics, earning a middle finger in his direction while Sukuna looks up at you.

“Yes, brat?” Sukuna says then, looking at you avidly, his eyes darkening, you know how furious he is with Naoya.

“No killing.”

“You’re such a goody goody.” He huffs, tossing down a drink now, while you shift in his lap. “Fine, that’s the plan for now. I’m heading out early, me and this brat need a couple hours alone.”

“Bet you do.” Satoru grins, wiggling his white brows, and Sukuna walks out with you now, through the humming and bustling darkness of the club, holding you close, you can feel his tension.

“Text Miwa, I wanna know if she can keep Touma out for a couple hours.” He says once you’re in the back of the limo, and then he watches the flush creep across your cheeks. “I’ll pay her more, and you don't have to work today.”

“You probably won’t let me work again!”

“Nope.”

“Oh goodness. Where’s my feminism?” He’s grinning big as he yanks you on his lap, straddling him this time.

“Left the moment I snorted coke off you. Or maybe when you sucked me off so good that night?” His voice gets husky, as his thumb brushes on your lower lip, and you shift just so, making him ache.

“Got you off fast.”

“You brat… text her now.”

******

Soon you and Sukuna are all alone in his penthouse, he sets a timer then, for the time Miwa is bringing Touma back. “You’re thorough, hmm?”

“I am not getting cockblocked tonight.” Your laughter is soon turning into cries when Sukuna has his huge hands all over you, kissing you desperately, just holding you up in the air, letting your legs dangle.

“Kuna, please…”

“Stop teasing, brat… strip for me, now.” Sukuna’s order rushes through you, as you step back just a bit, unbuttoning your top until it falls down your body, then your skirt falls, until you’re in panties and a bra, his ruby eyes washing over you hungrily. “Don’t stop there, let me see all of you.”

You’re trembling without his touch, with just his gaze that holds so much power over you, reaching back and unsnapping the lacy strap, letting it fall, as Sukuna studies your pretty breasts that sway just so as they bounce out of it, little marks left where it’s pressed into your skin. He steps forward then, big hands with those tattooed wrists brushing under them, where the line of your strap was.

“Mnh!” He chuckles a bit, continuing his caresses, as if he’s trying to rub away all the strain the bra put you through that day, before stepping back, eyes dipping to your thighs.

“Panties off too.” You turn now, slipping them down your ass, peering back at him with a little smile as the pool to your ankles.

“Like the view, Mr. Sukuna?”

“Tch, you’re so bratty. Turn.” You turn back to him, bare feet padding gently across the plush rug beneath you, he’s already shirtless but now your hands are fiddling with the belt around his thick waist, dying for him to be as naked as you. When you get his thick, heavy cock free you whimper just a bit, touching that barbell coated with his milky precum.

You bend down and slip his pants and boxers, then eagerly get to your knees, only for him to pull at your hair, earning your attention to his face, a devious fucking smirk on his features. “Didn’t I owe you, for not cumming yesterday?”

“Oh, you owe me alright, passing out on me.” You giggle, but he’s pulling you up even as your tongue darts on that reddened tip.

“Let me pay it back then, hmm? Ah! Kuna…”

He’s yanked you up, pulling you by the hands until his strong back is nearly against the wall. “I see you on that pole, you know, gliding around it, hanging upside down…”

His murmur is met with his rough hands on your bare waist, squeezing against your ribcage, he makes you feel so small, as he lifts you then, like it’s nothing of course, how strong he is he just lets you dangle off the ground. “Kuna, let me suck you-”

“Oh, you’ll suck me right down that throat.” You scream out when he’s flipped you upside down then, until your calves are hanging on his shoulders, and you’re hanging upside down, hands reaching to his hips as you wriggle.

“Kuna, what!?” He chuckles right against your soppy little cunt, making you jerk, fearing you’ll lose balance, you cling, as blood rushes to your head.

“See how long you can suck me like this, huh little stripper of mine? I got you, I won’t drop your ass, stop wiggling.” You exhale, then your clit twitches as he flicks a tongue on it, arms wrapped around your hips in some insane standing 69 position that you’ve only ever read about.

“K-Kuna…” You feel the blood rushing to your head, as he laps his long tongue right against your pussy, groaning.

“Suck it deep, lemme feel your throat tighten when you cum f’me.” You’re done for then, opening your mouth as your hair falls, as your body heats up, clinging to his thighs now as you suck his cock eagerly into your mouth, and he moans against you, making the sensations higher. “Deeper, brat, you can do it…”

You suck him deeper, head bobbing while upside down, making you dizzy, as he devours your pussy now, leaning back on the wall to pull you more against him, shoving his cock so deep down your throat you gag on it, which only makes it better. He’s licking that sweetness while your moans make his cock twitch, while you’re sucking him all you can, deeper and deeper.

“God, so slutty just f’me, hmm?” You can’t answer, not with nine inches down your throat, not as you’re clinging to him, pussy pulsing around the wet muscle of his tongue, shoving in so deep then that you’re about to cum all over his face, feeling yourself floating as you dangle there, as he holds you. “Mmm, p-perfect, fuck…”

He’s losing himself in you, holding you up as you work so hard, thinking how the fuck he’s this, lucky, that he has you, all to himself. As he flicks his tongue and has you gushing across his face, thighs squeezing him, hanging on like he is your pole, sucking him like your life depends on it.

“Mngh– mpf!” You’re no longer making coherent noises, as blood rushes in your ears, and you hear your own pulse race, bucking and grinding on his face as you take so much of him your throat is burning, eyes crying.

“Good girl. Look at you.” He’s got you flipped once more now, clinging to him as he slams you against the wall, cool textured patterns pressing into overheated skin, while you’re spinning, clinging to him so dizzy.

“You’re insane, Ryomen Sukuna.” You’re clinging to him tighter, as he presses you on that wall, brushing a thumb across where drool has spilled from the corner of your mouth.

“You did so good for me, baby, shit.” His praise makes anything else fade, as color hits your cheeks, you’re grinding those hips as your thighs press around his strong torso, pussy dripping along his belly button and lower.

If Sukuna had a tongue there, he’d lap it right up too.

What an odd thought, he muses, slamming his lips back on yours, his huge hands pressing into the plush of your ass while he lets you grind right on his abdomen, making every muscle slick with your cum. “Kuna…”

“Wanna put a baby in you, shit.” You’re already weak, now he’s ending you, when he carries you to the bed, laying you down and shoving your thighs up. “Imagine, those titties dripping milk, so big…”

“Oh my god…” You’re clinging to his pastel locks, as he’s sucking on your nipples now, and you can picture it all so vividly, making you pulse around nothing, dying for him to do just that. “Do you have… a breed kink?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, Sukuna is absolutely a kinky mother fucker, he’s had submissives, he’s had girls in handcuffs, he’s even learned shibari and hung them from the ceiling. For whatever reason, he has far too much fun doing even the most basic things with you, he knows your past was…

Shit.

And your experiences, shit, so he’s eased it up on you - yes that was Sukuna being gentle - but he has never experienced whatever feral shit it is in him that makes him so badly want a baby in you. Another baby for you to take care of, to stay home with and watch their dumbass shows, to watch as your belly grows, and you’re marked more by his baby inside you.

What is it exactly that's happening to him?

With you he loses all sense of control.

“Breed kink, is that what it’s called?” He’s smirking down as you giggle, breathless, brushing your fingers against the jut of his cheekbone.

“Is it just a kink?” Your words wreck his brain, when he lines up his huge, lengthy cock against your slutty little hole, so ready for him.

“It could be more.” He shoves his cock deep in you then, folding you into a mating press, you’re screaming out, head falling back, thanking god that your son isn’t in the house, there’s no way sound proofing works for that scream. “God, so desperate, ya gonna cum already?”

“F-fuck… yes…” He’d chuckle again but you’re gripping him too tightly, he’s too deep folding your much smaller frame in half, the size difference alone in the huge man’s hands is ending him, watching his cock stretch your tight little hole, stuffing you so full. “Too much!”

“Nah, you can take it brat, huh?” You’re senseless when he pulls nearly completely out, moaning at your arousal dripping down his cock so filthy, stuffing it back inside your cunt all the way, as much as he can at least, there’s too many inches for Sukuna to bottom out in your little cunt. “Too much for you huh?”

“I c-can do it…” He’s smiling wickedly, a big white grin spread across half his face, while those ruby eyes light up and he slams into your pussy again, making you grip his biceps with those nails of yours, sinking in and leaving marks. “Kuna!”

“Feel too good, I can’t take it easy anymore.” You blink in shock when he’s pressing on those thighs, fucking into you faster, harder, smacks of his skin heard along with the sound of your greedy cunt taking all she can.

“Gonna cum, mnh!” He slows now, smirking at your cute little scowl. “N-no keep going!”

“Mmm, not yet brat.” You’re gasping as he rolls his hips so deep, his stubble along the top of his cock grinding against your little twitchy clit, making you closer in a whole other way, while his piercing hits your g spot again, rolling there, inch by inch. “Close, hmm?”

“P-please!” He sighs, you just are too pretty desperate and begging, he leans back and rolls his thumb on your clit now, as your thighs shaky, and you’re gushing down on him.

“So messy, look at you. Tch.” He’s using that slippery mess to roll on your clit as he puts the soles of your pretty feet on his chest, yes even your feet are pretty to him, every bit of you is, while he nips your ankle and presses your engorged clit deeper, making you close to shattering. “Beg for it.”

“You’re… such a jerk… I swear!” He pulls off his finger then, and you yank his wrist, still pinned, as he smirks down at you. “Put it back, please…” You’re pouting, taking his thumb and sucking your juices off it then, leaving him speechless for just a moment. “Kuna!”

“Beg me.”

“I said please?”

“Nah.” He’s pulling his entire cock out of you now, and your glare makes you look way too pretty, when he’s got you on your knees now, pressing your head down into the mattress, smacking his heavy thick cock on your ass. “God, she’s so perfect, but she needs new handprints.”

“Mnhph!” You’re whining into the pillow as he smacks one ass cheek, then the other, over and over, making you tremble in need. You’re arching up for more, earning his chuckle, as he looks at just how tiny that pussy is, the difference again wrecking his addled brain, while his cock disappears in ways it shouldn’t.

“Fuck you’re perfect, brat, shit…” He’s murmuring now, his piercing hitting some new damn spot, as he eases in you halfway, smacking your ass again, they’re covered in his prints now, the skin whelping up in places, all while you’re struggling to cum, rocking back your hips.

He holds them still, earning you up on shaky arms, scowling back at him. “Kuna, let me cum, didn’t I do good when you h-had me f-flipped!?”

“So needy, tsk.” Your eyes narrow before he shoves deeper, hand pulling your hair now, your eyes roll back as you see stars when he slams your cervix like this. “Being bratty?”

“Wanna cum, please… with you, with you.” He’s pausing now, before he yanks your head to him, leaning over your body to kiss you so sloppy, his tongue and your dripping down so messy, as you’re struggling to take him this way.

“Want me to cum inside? Fill you up?” You nod eagerly, when he pulls you to your knees, pumping deep inside you, a strong arm wrapping your body and a hand splaying your tummy.

“Please, please, K-Kuna I… want it!” You’re breathless when he shoves his cock so deep you’re squirming, the orgasm so close, but he stops again, to your frustration, to the point you’re in tears as he looks at you again.

“Want a baby in you, hmm brat?” You’re struck by the feral look in his ruby eyes. “Wanna be so full of me, here?”

He’s pressing your tummy as you nod then, swallowing, throat dry. “I want it in me, Kuna.”

“Say it - beg for it.” His husky voice and thrust send you, you lean back to cup his face, your palm feeling far too good, while your cunt is pulsating around him.

“Please put your b-baby inside me, please. Want it, need it, please… ah!” Sukuna has you on your back again, throwing you this way and that like you’re nothing, now he’s got you folded so in half your knees nearly touch the bed, folding you in ways you didn’t think were possible anymore.

“Gonna put that baby in you, fuck so many babies, huh slutty little brat?” He whispers, you gulp and nod, seeing him go so insane, and he’s ended then, rolling his hips just so, watching you go off that edge. “You’re just here for me to breed then, huh? My little fucking breed toy?”

“Shit…” You’ve known Sukuna is freaky, but he’s lost it, leaning back to watch his cock disappear again and again, groaning as he feels you tightening.

“Is that what you are? For me to breed you?”

“Kuna…”

“Answer brat, I’ll let you cum.” You take several breaths, struggling to form words as the man fucks into you.

“Breed me.” Those words send him further, as he fucks you so hard it hurts, hands bruising your thighs, but you’re dying for it, for the pain, for the way he looks at you, how he’s pulsing inside you now. “P-please!”

“Cum then, just f’me, lemme put so many inside you.”

You’re screaming his name as he finally lets you cum, his own orgasm following, his cock swelling and pulsing, filling you up so much you feel your cunt dripping his cum, while you’re gripping the blankets, panting. Your orgasm is so intense you can’t even fucking see, gasping as he lets your thighs down, cupping your face and slamming his lips on yours.

He’s still cumming from that reddened tip snug on your cervix, leaving him breathless with the intensity, and there is so much of it. Your body starts to convulse around him, a second orgasm ripping through you as he’s still not done, filling you up with his hot cum, making you feel so full, so owned when he’s pulling back finally, exhaling and looking down at you.

“Sukuna… your breed kink is intense.” You whisper, he chuckles then, the sound echoing in the room, shaking his head. “Is this normal for you?”

“God no, I’ve never…” He clears his throat then, as he brushes a finger across your brow, coated in a thin sheen of sweat. “I’ve never felt like that, or… wanted to. Shit you fuck me up, bratty stripper.”

“Bratty stripper, really?” You raise a brow, lips pursed, and he’s sighing, rolling ruby eyes as he rests his chin on his forearm, studying you carefully.

“You bring it out in me, alright?”

“Kuna… I’m your first breed kink huh?”

“Oh shut up. You love it.” He pulls out now, and your little smile turns into a gasp, as you watch just how much cum pours out, yours and his. “Messy, slutty pussy, she wants all my cum.”

“That’s your mess, Mr. Sukuna. Should clean it.” He raises a brow at your giggle, before he’s standing, laying you on your back, your head dangling then.

“Your mess, you clean it.”

“Oh is it now?” You eagerly lap at him as your hair dangles off the edge of the bed, and you tease a lick on his balls, earning his moan. “Both our messes.”

“More you.” He huffs, leaning over you to finger the sticky cum of his pouring out of your hole, making his cock twitch again.

“Mmm!” He’s shoved his cock deep in your throat, while you suck the juices off him, still mostly hard somehow, earning his soft cry that makes your sore cunt ache, while he leans over you and laps that tongue on your clit, while his cock shoves so deep in your throat you choke on it.

Sukuna groans as he fucks into your throat for the second time that day, licking his own cum off your clit, before pulling back, and watching the bulge in your throat move, sparking more inside him. “Not gonna be able to talk huh?”

The alarm goes off then, and Sukuna exhales, pressing a kiss on your clit as he pulls back, easing you up, your eyes are so fucked out you look dizzy. You touch your throat, clearing it, sitting with wobbly legs. “Almost time for him to come home?”

“Mmhmm, your little cockblock kid.”

“You love him, shut up.” You shove at him playfully, as he picks you up again, taking you to his bathroom.

“Tch, I deal with both of you.” You giggle and shake your head, seeing his plump lips twitch as he sits you down on the counter. “We have time to clean up.”

*****

When Miwa brings Touma home, you have a towel around your damp hair, as Miwa looks at you and covers her hand to giggle. Sukuna hands her hundreds. “This is too-”

“No, I really needed this. Thank you.” He mumbles, she can’t stop her giggle and neither can you as Touma runs up and hugs you over the fluffy robe.

“I love him.” Miwa murmurs in your ear, you blush as she eyes you.

“I do too.” She smiles at that, patting Touma’s head then.

“Love you Miwa!” He declares, and she gives him a little kiss.

“Love you too, be good and get some sleep for mommy hmm?” He nods as she waves at you all and leaves, when Touma turns to Sukuna.

“Will you watch a show with me?” Sukuna glares at his watch.

“It’s ten, kid.”

“It’s the weekend!”

“Melatonin-”

“Sukuna.” You glare and he sighs again. “I have to blow dry my hair, can you two watch just one episode maybe?”

“Of what!?”

“Bluey.” You and Touma say at the same time, making Sukuna grimace as you and… mini you… stare at him with those damn eyes.

Fuck he loves you, and now he’s loving your annoying kid, who wants to watch a stupid dog show.

How’d he fall so bad for you?

“I’m getting soft.” He mutters, when you kiss his cheek after he agrees.

“What’s wrong with soft? Hmm?”

“You’ll make up for this, woman.” You’re grinning as you run off, leaving him and the kid to watch this ‘stupid’ Bluey character on the couch. The kid is snuggling on Sukuna’s lap, clinging to him with his arms around his neck, the kid is as clingy as you, it seems, even as he shoves at him, he comes back. “Kid…”

“You’re comfy, Mr. Kuna!”

“Am not, I bench three fifty easy and-”

“Comfy!”

“Jesus. Let’s start this stupid show.” He wonders how long it takes to dry your hair as he scowls at the shut bathroom, you’re just torturing him. But slowly he gets absorbed in the damn show, and starts asking a yawning Touma questions. “Who’s that one?”

“Uncle Stripe! Hmm, you could be Uncle Kuna!” He presses a kiss on Sukuna’s cheek, he grimaces, wiping it off and shoving at the kid, who just comes back and clings again, laughing. “Papa Kuna then!”

“Papa Kuna the hell, kid.” Touma snuggles back in his lap as the show goes on, but his next words clutch at Sukuna’s heart.

“I don’t really know my Papa, except he made Mama sad sometimes.” Sukuna gulps, wondering just how much you don’t share, while Touma yawns again. “That’s why I’ll protect Mama.”

“Do you hate your Papa for being… well, a dick?” Touma blinks curiously, and Sukuna remembers he’s a little… kid or whatever, and doesn’t know his bio dad is a psycho dick.

“A what?”

“Shit… I mean, do you hate him for being bad to Mama?”

Touma frowns a bit for a moment. “No. I don’t… hate him. I don’t know him though. Just Mama. And she’s the best Mama in the world.” He grins brightly then, and Sukuna smiles at the clear love in his eyes for you.

“She seems like a pretty cool mom, huh?”

“The best! No one is a better mama.” Sukuna contemplates it then, what was fun and something to think of, you are a mother first, he knows that’s the most important part of you. “What should I call you, Mr. Kuna?”

“You can call me whatever kid, I guess.” He grumbles, earning Touma giggling, he sounds a bit like you when he does.

“Mama loves you.” His words again hit mushy things inside Sukuna, a mobster, a strip club owner, a man who had no attachments, now has a girl he’s in love with and a kid that he wants to take care of, so soon.

Like some whirlwind you’ve overtaken everything, since the moment his eyes met yours, and he saw it, something different, the type of love he has for you is difficult to explain or express. But he’d burn the goddamn world down for you, and your kid, if that’s what either of you needed, and any kids he had with you.

“I love your Mama too, even when she’s a little annoying.”

“Hey now!” You come out, skin all smooth and dewy, your hair glimmering from whatever fancy products he bought you, smelling far too good. “I love you both, but I am not annoying.”

“Tch. Sure, brat, this dog is annoying.”

“No, you like it, Papa Kuna.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as you falter, seeing Touma cling even tighter to Sukuna’s neck, as he pats a spot next to him on the couch, but you’re stuck there, like the gravity is pulling you down.

“Papa Kuna?” You murmur, and Sukuna shrugs a shoulder.

“He can call me whatever annoying thing he wants. Both of you and your dumb nicknames.” You sit then, tears filling your eyes, while you brush back Touma’s hair, seeing he’s dozed off right on Sukuna’s chest, feeling such affection you can hardly stand it. “Brat…”

“Don’t you tell me not to cry.” You’re already sniffling as you cover them up with a blanket, eyes watering as Sukuna sighs, reaching across Touma to cup your cheek, brushing aside a tear.

“You’re just a cry baby, hmm?” You just nod, and kiss him gently, salty tears flowing down his lips as he pulls back then, looking at Touma and brushing his hair back, your exact hair, so much of him is just like you. “Why are you crying this time?”

“Look at him. He l-loves you.” You’re sobbing quietly, and Sukuna feels his own emotions hit him, swallowing. If you make him cry he’s going to beat your backside. “He never had this from anyone but me. Never. I…”

“Shh. Let me put him to bed.” You nod then, as he kisses your head, carrying Touma to his room, coming back to hold you tightly, letting you sob all over his soft black shirt, shutting off the show with a click of the remote. “It’s okay, you’re safe here.”

“I love you so much. So much it hurts.” Sukuna gulps again, clutching your body tightly to him. “It’s crazy, how soon it happened, l-like when I m-met you…”

“Shh.”

“No, it was when I danced for you.” You pull back, cheeks a sticky mess, lip trembling so hard he brushes a thumb over it, letting you continue to melt him until he’s a mush. “You touched my tummy… my stretch mark, you said it was sexy.”

His hand comes to your waist then, thumb brushing the same area. “They are sexy. All of you is.”

“No one made me feel that way, until you, something about how you looked at me, how you touched me…” You are pulled against him tightly, as his breath tickles your lips, and he looks down at you. “I fell bad then.”

“I fell when I saw you, I knew I had to have you. And I do, and guess what?” You’re sniffling, heart pounding while he speaks those words, your hands grip his shoulder, while he holds you close.

“What?” You whisper, when he leans down further, taking over your every sense.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you or come near you, both of you.”

“Kuna…” You’re kissing, as he holds you so tightly, letting you cry against his chest, letting you whisper all the words of love Sukuna never knew he’d hear, or feel, as he rubs his hands up and down your back. “Thank you, for all of this. Everything.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. It’s everything.” He takes a breath then, smiling down at you and raising a brow. “What is that look?”

“Can we… go on a date?” You giggle, now he’s glaring daggers at you. “It’s not a joke, brat.”

“We don’t need to though, we live together and-”

“You deserve a damn date. Okay? I’ve never… been on one?” You blink in shock, one, two, three times. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Sukuna, you had a sex swing and own a strip club?”

“That doesn’t mean I went on dates.”

“Aw, so I’d be your first?” He stands as you hop up pulling him down now, giggling when he continues to scowl, looking so serious, his jaw is even clenched when you brush your fingers along it. “I’d love to.”

“Shit, yeah?” You nod eagerly, letting him pick you up and carry you to bed then, and you look so peaceful he thinks, snuggled and smiling, when your phone rings.

It’s way too late, and a private number, making his heart pound in his chest.

Sukuna picks up the phone, saying nothing, hearing Naoya’s voice then - “Where do you live now, just up and left with my son, huh? Do you really think you’ll get away with it, bitch- I have the DA in my pocket. I-”

Sukuna cuts him off quickly, his words making you stir awake. “Count your fucking days, Naoya. Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

He stutters as you realize in horror Sukuna is on your phone with him, god why can’t he let you be happy? He wanted nothing to do with you or Touma until you were happy, with Sukuna, who’s fuming, standing up right out of bed and squeezing your phone so tightly you think it’ll break.

“You think hiding behind the Gojo name will keep you safe, don’t you Sukuna - so scared you have to get the Kamo family to send me threats?” Sukuna’s laugh is dangerous then, frightening as you watch in horror.

“I’m not scared of you in any fucking way, I was trying to handle the situation with more concern than you have for anything, but if it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get.” Your mouth opens but Sukuna shushes you with just a look. “Or you wanna meet one on one, how’s that nose?”

“Fuck you, all this for what, to get at the Zenin?”

“All this because I love the girl you threw away, thank god you did too, you didn’t even deserve to look at her.”

“Then meet me tomorrow, I’ll send the details, and we’ll fucking end it all. She’s mine, and so is that goddamn kid, I’ll not just hand them over.”

“I’ll meet you alright.” He hangs up, and you watch in horror as your phone is crushed in Sukuna’s huge hand, crumbling and cracking, when he starts going to his drawers and digging out clothes.

“Sukuna, what did he say?” You whisper, he turns to look at you, insane, scary grin on his features.

“He said he wants to fucking die baby. That’s what. I’ll buy you a better phone, by the way.” He glances at his hand, covered in little cuts, you stand then, holding his palm as your worst fears are coming true.

“I can’t have you hurt because of me!”

“I’ll do anything for you, didn’t I say that?”

“But I-”

“I’m not meeting him tonight, I need to meet the boys. Okay?” You take a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“I want you to be in bed. I want him to leave us alone.”

“He will.”

“You can’t actually…”

“Kill him?” You bite your lip, nodding. “I love you, I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep you safe, if it comes to it I’ll end him without blinking.”

“But you could get hurt!”

“He can’t touch me.” His bloody hand cups your cheek now, as he kisses you deeply, and your tummy turns and spins. “I need to end this for good. I have a date to take you on.”

He tilts your chin up, kissing away your tears, seeing the little bits of his own blood across your face. “Please come back home to us.”

“I will, brat, you worry too much.” Your frown makes him soften. “I will come back home, to both of you.”

“You better.” He kisses you again, getting dressed and leaving quietly, as you cry for the third time today, all for different reasons, seeing yourself in the mirror, touching your reddened cheek in the night glow, with the moon softly glowing in through the windows.

You peer down and see him hopping into a limo then, on the phone, touching your own chest as he looks up and sees your silhouette in the limo, dialing Toji’s number. “What is it? I’m getting sucked off, shit.”

“I didn’t need to know that.” Sukuna takes a shot that’s sitting in the cooler inside the limo, downing it in one go, sighing. “Finish it, I’m on my way.”

“Finish it, doll no teeth.” Toji tuts at the pretty girl sucking at him, while he’s sipping on his beer, biting back a moan and scowling at the phone. “You’re on one tonight, what happened?”

“He called her, threatening her, and I answered.”

Toji pauses then, pulling the girl off him reluctantly. “Just a minute, hmm?” She nods a bit, and Toji pulls up his pants, as he stares out the window of his apartment into the night. “What’d he say?”

“Too much. He was at her old place. The shit he… I can’t let him hurt her, or her fucking kid, Toji. I need a favor from you.”

Toji downs his beer then, grimacing and running a hand through his dark locks as he throws the bottle out with a clink. “Don’t need to beg me to help her, I will come with you.”

“Fuck you’re not that shit sometimes huh?”

“Oh fuck off Sukuna. I’m finishing this bj before I come out.”

Sukuna snorts then, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, you never lasted long from what I heard-”

“Fuck I didn’t, you don’t know shit- soundproofing your room.”

“So you wouldn’t jerk off to me.”

“Oh fuck you, I’m just doing this for her, not even you.” Sukuna sobers up a bit, as your face hits his mind, and he nods a bit.

“I’ll just wait then. Thank you Toji.”

“And a thank you? Damn she’s got you soft.” Sukuna thinks of crushing another phone, but hangs up instead, downing another shot with a shaky hand, while Toji calls back over the pretty bottle girl from the club.

“Sorry doll, go ahead now.” She’s back to sucking him deep in her throat, but for some reason Sukuna’s words and you being in danger has his mind all over, the Zenin have long been a problem. It’s why he long changed his name to the girl he loved so long ago, the one he lost.

Sukuna clearly loves you like Toji did, and now it makes him sick to think of Naoya, he knew when he saw you he was no good, but he didn’t know it extended so far. The pretty girl pulls back with a pop, frowning, and Toji grimaces, pulling her up on his lap now.

“I’ve got too much on my mind, your mouth is perfect, mmkay doll?” She nods shyly, gasping when Toji shoves two thick fingers in her pussy.

“Mr. Toji!” He’s curling them as her head falls back, and he’s kissing down her chest. “S-so good mnh!”

“Might as well have one of us cum.” He’s sucking her off him before he sends her home, finally joining Sukuna in the Limo, and seeing his addled state. “Shit, at least you interrupted me for a good reason. When’s he gonna meet?”

“Tomorrow, but I have a question for you, Toji.”

“What’s that?”

“Have you ever thought about leading them?”

Toji sputters then, as Sukuna smokes on a blunt, filling the limo up with smoke, handing Toji the blunt. “Leading them?”

“You’re the one who should be, hmm?”

“Fuck that, Sukuna, I can’t. I’ll help you take him out, but not that.” Sukuna sighs, nodding then, he knows how deep his hatred goes. “So… we’re taking him out?”

Sukuna grins. “I’d love to take him the fuck out, but one thing we are absolutely making sure of, he will never come near her again.”

A/N- Am I hinting at a Toji spinoff? MAYBE hehe- also expect Mob Gojo Chapter three next - I'll have a preview of him tonight actually. TY for all the love on the Mafia boys - I am so flattered by the love for our obsessed men. Hope you enjoyed this!

Taglist #1- @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @the-dark-creature @lulunx @saitamaswifey @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua @mai-505 @suguru-nugget

[kflixnet]

New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Calli's oneshot!

Six Strings, Zero Clues

pairing: mark lee x reader

trope: strangers to lovers, uni au

description: Mark Lee thinks he’s the next big indie artist. You think he’s the reason you have eye bags. After weeks of listening to his 2 AM guitar sessions through your ceiling, you finally snap and put up a very direct complaint on the bulletin board. He, of course, does not take the hint. Now you have to march up there and personally make him stop—except it turns out Mark might actually be kind of… cute? Annoying, but cute. Part of the Notice Me (literally) series!

warnings: food mentioned, language, second hand embarassment? slander too I suppose

w/c: 7.1k

a/n: phew its here and um this was supposed to be some silly little thing for all the dreamies djsdk (by the time this is up the masterlist for the series will also be out but try to guess who's who!! i've left a few hints hehe) also i dont play the guitar but if a mark swoops in offering to teach me i will not say no. taglist

The printer whirs, spitting out the paper, and you snatch it up before it even lands in the tray.

“Okay, but have you considered not escalating this?” Giselle asks, sprawled across the common room couch, half-watching you and half-scrolling through her phone.

You don’t bother with a response. Instead, you dig through the mess of random supplies on the bookshelf, hunting for tape.

“Like,” she continues, “what if he’s going through something? What if this is his only coping mechanism? Are you really gonna be the villain in some dude’s healing arc?”

You pause just long enough to glare at her. “Bold of you to assume I’m not the one going through something.”

Giselle hums, tilting her head in consideration. “I mean. Fair.”

You find the tape—buried under a pack of sketch pens—and tear off a piece with your teeth. Giselle doesn’t even blink. You’ve clearly been driven past the point of rational behavior.

The common room is nearly empty at this hour. The vending machine hums in the corner, a lone microwave beeps from the communal kitchen, and some guy is asleep at one of the tables, his face smushed into an open textbook. Outside, the campus is quiet, bathed in the dull orange glow of streetlights.

And above all that—above you—the same godforsaken sound drifts through the ceiling. A soft, melancholic strumming, like the soundtrack of a coming-of-age movie that just won’t end.

You slap the notice onto the bulletin board and smooth the tape with your palm. Giselle huffs as she gets up from the couch to read the piece of paper you’ve put up. NOTICE: TO INDIE GUITAR GUY Some of us just crawled out of finals week held together by caffeine and regret, and the only thing we want to hear at 2 AM is nothing. But instead, every night without fail, you’re out here strumming away like we’re all living in some coming-of-age movie where you’re the main character. 

Newsflash: we’re not. This is a dorm, not some group therapy tent at a shitty music festival, and I promise you, no one is having a life-changing moment listening to your sad indie ballads through these paper-thin walls. I don’t know what heartbreak you’re working through, but please—either take it somewhere else, invest in some headphones, or play at a reasonable hour like a normal human being. 

If not, I will personally start hunting you down to cut your guitar strings. Try me, asshole.

“You do realize you could just go up there and knock, right?”

You cross your arms. “And then what? Have a conversation?”

“That is generally how human interaction works, yes.”

You shake your head. “No. If I knock, I have to be nice. And if I’m nice, I can’t say everything I want to say. This is a better solution.”

Giselle gestures toward the board. “Your better solution is an unhinged public rant?”

“Yes.”

She squints at the paper, then snorts. “You threatened to cut his guitar strings.”

“Because if I get my hands on them, I will.” You shove a thumbtack through the top of the page for extra measure, pinning it onto the board with a little more force than necessary. The other notices tremble in protest—flyers for dorm cleaning (which you think would definitely be a scam), someone looking for a new roommate, and a very questionable ad for adopting a cat together.

You furrow your eyebrows at the last one. Whoever put that up actually lacks brain power because pets aren’t allowed in the building and the RA can easily see what’s on this board. 

You turn away from the bulletin board, brushing your hands together like you’ve just solved a great moral dilemma. “Okay,” you say, “I’m going to bed.”

Giselle barely glances up from her phone. “Good luck with that.”

You ignore her and make your way toward the hallway, already fantasizing about the blissful, uninterrupted sleep that will hopefully be in your future. Maybe you were a little dramatic, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

And if Indie Guitar Guy has even an ounce of common sense, he’ll take the hint.

The placebo effect is when your brain tricks your body into thinking something is working, even when it isn’t. Like when people take sugar pills in medical trials and somehow start feeling better just because they believe they got real medicine. It’s mind over matter, proof that sometimes, the illusion of change is just as powerful as change itself.

And right now, you’re pretty sure you’re experiencing it firsthand.

For the next two days, you sleep like a rock.

The thought of guitar guy reading your notice, and finally stopping his antics makes all your post-exam exhausted brain latch onto the idea like it’s a lifeline. It doesn’t matter how it worked—whether it was shame, guilt, or a sudden revelation that 2 AM concerts aren’t a personality trait. What matters is that it’s quiet. No more strumming drifting through the walls, no more tossing and turning while waiting for him to get tired.

You wake up feeling victorious.

For the first time in weeks, you don’t have to drag yourself out of bed like an extra in a zombie movie. Your coffee tastes better, the air smells cleaner, and even your 8 AM lecture seems bearable. Giselle eyes you over her cereal as you practically float around the dorm, humming to yourself.

“Wow,” she says, shoveling another spoonful into her mouth. “I almost forgot what you’re like when you’re not being slowly driven to insanity.”

“You see?” You gesture at yourself. “This is what happens when people respect community living.”

By the third night, you almost forget he ever existed.

But of course, you were being delusional. Stupid, even. Because this dorm not only houses you and your friends, but also stupid boys who would probably not give a flying fuck about notices like the one you put up. 

You rub your eyes vigorously, trying to scrub away the sleepiness. It’s past midnight and you should be cruising through your REM cycles right now. Instead, you listen to the strumming of a guitar somewhere above you.

And because the universe is cruel like that, you actually recognize the damn song.

Why would anyone sane play Mariposa by the Peach Tree Rascals at fucking 1 in the morning? You curse internally before groaning, rolling onto your stomach and shoving your face into your pillow, as if that’s going to block out the sound. It doesn’t. If anything, the acoustics of the dorm—cursed, absolutely cursed—only amplify the soft, lazy strumming. He’s not even playing the full song, just absentmindedly plucking out the chords, like some guy in a movie sitting by a campfire, contemplating life or whatever.

For a brief second, you think, Okay, fine. It sounds kind of nice.

And then you remember that it’s past midnight.

Sitting up abruptly, you push your covers off, jumping off your bed with a newfound motivation. What kind of asshole sees that big notice that you put up and still doesn’t have the decency to stop?

When Giselle hears you shuffling around, she looks up from her econ textbook, shaking her head with a sigh. “You’re going to feel bad when this guy turns out to be, like, the sweetest person ever.”

You scoff, yanking a hoodie over your head. “I’ll take my chances.”

Giselle closes her book and watches you with something between amusement and resignation. “What are you even gonna say?”

You shove your feet into a pair of slides. “I don’t know. Something about common courtesy and how not everyone wants to listen to his fuckass music?”

She snorts. “You’ve already committed to the villain role, huh?”

You jab a finger in her direction. “No. I’m the protagonist. He’s the inconsiderate side character messing up my storyline.”

Giselle slumps into her desk, her voice coming out muffled. “Again, you’re going to feel so bad when this dude is actually, like, a golden retriever in human form.”

You ignore her, grabbing your phone and stomping toward the door. “I highly doubt that.”

And with that, you march out of your room, slamming the door behind and scaring the scrawny but tall kid who lives in the dorm next to yours. His clothes and the corridor smell vaguely of something burnt, but you don’t think too much of it, fully prepared to give Indie Guitar Guy a piece of your mind.

The walk to his room isn’t long, but it gives you just enough time to fully work yourself up. Your footsteps are firm, your hoodie sleeves bunched around your fists like you’re ready to throw hands if necessary. Every tired, miserable night flashes before your eyes.

You knock once. The chords still continue to be played. You knock again. No reaction.

Your eye twitches as you knock again—hard, promising that this is the last and you’ll break his door the next time if you have to. 

The strumming stops. There’s a beat of silence, then the sound of soft shuffling. You hear the doorknob turn and then the door swings open and the entire speech you’d prepared dies in your throat.

He’s cute.

And not in the way you were expecting (not that you were, but still). He stands there, slightly disheveled, hair messy like he’s been running his hands through it, an old hoodie hanging loose on his frame. His guitar pick is still caught between his fingers, and his eyes—dark, warm, blinking at you in confusion—look way too soft for someone who’s been torturing you for weeks.

You forget, briefly, what you came here to do.

Then he scratches the back of his neck, looking at you in confusion. “Hey… Can I help you?”

To your absolute horror, instead of going off on him, the only thing that escapes your mouth is, “Um.”

UM?

What happened to excuse me, asshole, do you have no shame? Where the hell did that go?

He looks at you expectantly, still waiting for you to continue.

You swallow hard, mentally scrambling to put yourself back together. “So… I don’t know if you saw, but I put up a notice on the bulletin board?”

He blinks. “What notice?”

You hate how your stomach flips at the way his brows pinch slightly, confused but genuinely curious, like he actually wants to know.

You clear your throat. “Just—about the, uh. The guitar.” You gesture vaguely, as if that explains anything. “At night.”

“Oh.” It comes out almost sheepishly as he looks down at the pick he was flipping in between his fingers, like he’s only now realizing.

You should push. Tell him off right now, stand your ground and speak your mind. But all you manage is to say—

“It’s just, um… really late, y’know?”

Oh my God.

What is this? A customer service complaint? Where is the wrath, and the all-caps shouting you promised yourself on the way up here?

He blinks at you again. Then, slowly, his lips part in realization.

“…Wait,” he says, eyes widening. “Am I the asshole from the notice?”

You stand there, every inch of your body fighting to scream YES. YES, YOU DUMB, SILLY, PRETTY BOY.

“...I mean—I wouldn’t say asshole?” You grimace.

You did. In fact, you didn’t just say it—you typed it out, printed it AND posted it in the common room’s bulletin board. Why didn’t you just scream it out of the windows while you were at it?

“Oh, shit.” He scratches his forehead, “That was you?”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “I—uh.”

He watches you for a second before exhaling. “Oh, man. I’m really sorry about that,” he says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear, I didn’t see the notice until earlier tonight.”

You should still be annoyed. Should. But the way he says it—so earnestly, with his brows slightly furrowed—makes you forget.

“I thought it was just some general complaint,” he continues, glancing down before hesitantly meeting your eyes again. “Didn’t realize I was the ‘asshole.’”

You feel heat creep up your neck. “Okay, but, like, not seriously—”

His lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smile. “Right. Totally.”

Your face burns.

Guitar guy must sense your embarrassment because he quickly clears his throat, straightening up. “Anyway,” he says, voice a little softer, “I really didn’t mean to keep you up. I just—I play when I can’t sleep.” He scratches his forehead, looking almost bashful. “Didn’t think it was carrying through the walls that much.”

Before you can mumble out something incoherent or non-sensible again, he continues. 

“No, yeah. You’re right. I’ll stop.” Then, almost shyly, he glances back at you. “I, uh… I don’t think we’ve met before?”

You blink, caught off guard.

“I’m Mark,” he says, smiling a little. “Since, y’know. You technically already know way too much about my sleep schedule.”

You let out a breathy laugh, more surprised than anything. You hadn’t expected him to be this nice. Or this—

Well. This.

“I guess that’s fair,” you mumble, suddenly feeling a little stupid standing here in your sleep shorts and oversized hoodie.

Mark’s smile lingers. Then, with a little hesitation, he nods toward you. “So, uh. Do I get to know your name, or?”

You hesitate for half a second—because this is not how this was supposed to go, and he is not supposed to be this sweet—but eventually, you sigh, giving him your name.

Mark nods, a small grin on his lips, “Cool, well. I’m really sorry. I’ll stop now, so you can go sleep!”

Maybe it’s because he said he couldn’t sleep, or maybe it’s because you think that in your notice it may have seemed like he’d a bad player (he’s not), or maybe it’s just because your sleepy brain finds him cute that you pipe up, just before you leave.

“I’m sorry if I came off as really rude. It’d just been a hard week.” You sigh, a little hesitant, “And you don’t have to stop playing… I mean—at this time, please don’t. But I wouldn’t mind listening to you some other time.”

Mark blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Oh—uh—really?”

You nod, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “Yeah. You’re… not bad.”

His ears turn a little pink. “Oh. Thanks.” He scratches his neck, smiling softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

There’s a pause.

Then, before you can process it, Mark lifts a hand, pointing his fingers toward you like a finger gun. “Sleep well, neighbor.”

Oh my God.

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Goodnight, Mark.”

And with that, you turn away, fully aware that you’ve just lost the battle. God, Giselle is never going to let you live this down once you tell her.

A

The next morning, you groan as you shuffle out of bed, running on autopilot as you grab your mug and head to the common room, your only goal in life being to reach the sad, overworked coffee machine.

The moment you step in, the sharp smell of burnt coffee greets you—bitter, slightly tragic, but necessary. You yawn, rubbing your eyes as you press the button on the machine, waiting for it to sputter out something drinkable.

“You actually slept last night, right?”

The voice makes you blink. You turn, and standing next to you, looking way too put together for this hour, is Mark Lee.

Oh.

You fight every urge to react. He’s in a hoodie, hair slightly mussed like he just rolled out of bed, his hands shoved into his pockets. He’s looking at you, head tilted slightly, waiting for an answer.

“Uh.” You blink again, processing. “Yeah?”

Mark lets out a tiny breath of relief. “Good,” he says, nodding. “I, uh… I stopped playing. Like I said I would.”

Oh, he’s shy.

Somehow, this is worse. You were prepared for maybe an awkward nod or a "what’s up?". Not this gentle, earnest follow-up on whether you got enough sleep.

“Yeah.” You swallow. “I noticed. Thanks”

Mark nods again, rocking back on his heels. He’s quiet for a second, then gestures toward the coffee machine. “You, uh… do this every morning?”

You shrug. “Unfortunately.”

He lets out a small laugh, and for some reason, you feel stupidly warm.

“There you are.”

You both turn as Giselle enters the room, hair still a little messy from sleep, her own mug in hand. She barely glances at you before heading straight for the coffee machine, too preoccupied to notice the tension in the air.

When she’s finally done shoving your mug out of the way and filling her’s first, she looks up at the two of you.

“Who’s this?” Giselle asks you, voice loud enough for Mark to hear.

You’re about to reply when Mark steps forward instead, holding his hand out for her to shake. She stares at it for a second.

“I’m Mark. Um… the annoying guitar guy.”

“Oh!” Giselle exclaims, a smile making way onto her lips as she shakes his hand. “Good to meet you. Damn, did she yell your ears off yesterday? I tried to stop her, I swear.”

Mark laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah, it was fair. I didn’t even realize how loud I was.”

Giselle smirks, nudging you with her elbow. “See? Not everyone’s out to get you.”

You roll your eyes, choosing to ignore her as you finally bring your coffee to your lips. The second the burnt liquid hits your tongue, you wince. “God, this is awful.”

Mark watches, slightly amused. “Yeah, it smells kinda brutal.”

You sigh. “It’s usually bearable. Can’t function without it.”

“You ever try the café across campus?” Mark asks. “Way better than whatever this is.”

You shake your head. “Too much effort. This is closer.”

Giselle hums, sipping her own coffee. “She’s lazy,” she supplies helpfully.

You glare at her, but Mark just chuckles, rocking back on his heels. “Well, if you ever decide to make the trek, let me know. I’ll come with.”

You nod absently, still focused on your coffee. “Mm, noted.”

Mark hesitates for half a second, like he’s waiting for something, but when you don’t react, he clears his throat. “Alright, I’ll catch you later.”

“Later,” you mumble into your mug, already preparing for the day ahead.

As soon as he’s gone, Giselle turns to you, staring.

You blink. “What?”

Her lips curl into a slow smirk. “Oh my God.”

You narrow your eyes. “What?”

She snorts. “Nothing. You’re just an idiot.”

You scowl. “Great. Love to hear that first thing in the morning.”

Giselle just shakes her head, looking far too entertained as she takes another sip of coffee. “No, no. This is fun. Let’s see how long it takes.”

“See how long what takes?”

But she just grins. “Nothing. I’m going to shower first.”

D

The library is quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages flipping and hushed whispers between students. You’re not here by choice. You’d have preferred to sit in the common room, a little more comfortably, but the heated discussion over banning glitter for the upcoming door deco competition isn’t something that you’d sit through either.

So now, you’re here, settled at a table near the corner, your laptop open, coffee beside you. You don’t even realize someone is sitting a few seats away until you stretch, glance up—

And Mark Lee is looking right at you.

Oh.

Your brain stalls for half a second before you lift a hand in a casual wave.

Mark grins, like he was waiting for you to notice, and—without hesitation—grabs his stuff and moves over.

"Hey," he says, plopping down across from you.

You blink at him. "Hey?"

He gestures vaguely. "Thought I’d say hi."

You squint. "Didn’t look like you were studying."

Mark laughs, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah, well… he’s having roommate trouble right now, and I’m a great listener."

It takes you a second to register that he’s talking about the guy still sitting at his old table. When you glance over, you realize—oh. Renjun.

You nod as you glance back at your laptop. You vaguely remember seeing the notice that he needed a roommate, but it’d probably been taken down a few days ago. 

“Has he not found one yet?”

“Worse. He forgot to mention that he’d only room with guys,” Mark sighs, glancing at him before shaking his head, “And now he’s living with a girl that he’s definitely starting to like.”

You almost laugh out of disbelief. “Is co-ed rooming even allowed?”

“Nope,” Mark pops the p. “But he’s a fucking goody-two-shoes and the RAs love him, so honestly, even if they find out, they’ll give him a good notice period for either to move out.”

“I can hear you two.” Renjun hisses, before shrinking a little as he looks around, hoping no one was bothered.

You clear your throat. “So, what, are you just here for moral support?”

Mark grins. “Kind of. I keep them sane.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Right. Naturally.”

He leans in slightly, chin resting on his palm. “But, you know, the library’s not so bad.”

You shoot him a skeptical look. “Didn’t take you for the type to hang out here for fun.”

Mark shrugs, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf. Becoming a dedicated academic weapon.”

You exhale. “Right. And I’m the dean of the university.”

He gasps. “Wow. No faith in me at all? For all you know, I could be topping my classes.”

You hum, unconvinced.

Mark watches you for a second, then leans in just a fraction closer, voice lowering slightly. “Guess I’ll have to prove you wrong then.”

You blink at him, caught off guard, but before you can say anything, Renjun finally looks up from his laptop, fixing Mark with a withering stare.

“Can you prove it somewhere else?” he mutters. “Some of us are actually trying to study.”

Mark grins, completely unbothered. “See? Told you he’s suffering.”

G

You’re halfway through filling your water bottle when you hear a loud clatter followed by an equally loud “Shit!”

You whip around just in time to see Mark Lee standing in the dorm kitchen, staring at the floor like it personally betrayed him. A broken instant ramen cup lays at his feet, noodles spilled across the tiles in a sad, soupy mess.

“…Do I even want to know?” you ask.

Mark looks up, startled. He must not have noticed you walk in. His hood is halfway up his head, and his sweatpants are hanging loose at his hips, like he just rolled out of bed to grab food.

“I—” He rubs the back of his neck. “I thought I could grab it before it hit the counter.”

You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer to assess the damage. “And?”

He sighs. “And I could not.”

You try to hold back your laugh, but it slips out anyway. Mark groans, crouching down to clean up the mess, and you, feeling slightly bad for him, grab some napkins to help.

“Appreciate it,” he mutters as you both start wiping up the broth.

“No problem. Midnight disasters seem to be a running theme in this dorm,” you joke.

Mark huffs a small laugh. “Tell me about it. Last week, Jisung nearly set the toaster on fire.”

You pause, still crouched down. “Is that the kid that lives next door to me? I swear that the night I came and complained—” You shoot a slightly guilty look at him. “—to you, he smelled like burnt stuff.”

“Probably,” Mark shakes his head, “I mean, I’m not the best person to teach him how to cook, but he’s got a few friends. The kid’s just too stubborn and a little bit of an airhead to ask for help.”

The two of you continue cleaning in comfortable silence for a moment before you stand to toss the napkins in the trash. When you turn back, Mark is still crouched on the floor, gathering the last of the noodles into a pile. His hood has slipped back slightly, revealing the messy strands of his hair, and his sleeves are pushed up just enough to show his forearms.

Not that you’re looking.

Mark groans as he tosses the ruined noodles into the trash. “Man, this sucks. I was really looking forward to eating that.”

“You could just make another one?”

He hesitates, then sighs. “That was my last cup.”

You frown. “That was your only food?”

Mark scratches the back of his head, avoiding your gaze. “…Maybe.”

You stare at him. “Mark.”

“I meant to get groceries,” he mutters. “I just forgot.”

“For how long?”

“…A while.”

You let out a long sigh before turning toward the fridge. “Alright, come on.”

Mark blinks. “Huh?”

“You’re not starving on my watch,” you say, pulling out a container. “I made extra earlier.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Wait—really?”

“Don’t make it weird.” You shove the container into his hands before you can think twice.

Mark stares at it for a second before looking back up at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re kind of nice, huh?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Don’t spread that around.”

He hums as he pops open the lid. “Guess I owe you one now.”

“Damn right you do.”

Mark laughs, leaning against the counter. “You know, if you ever wanna cash that in, we could go grab real food sometime.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure. In exchange for a half-eaten bowl of ramen.”

He grins, scooping up a bite. “Deal.”

You shake your head, grabbing your water bottle before heading back to your room.

You twist the cap back onto your water bottle just as Giselle walks in, kicking off her shoes with a sigh. She doesn’t even look at you before flopping face-first onto her bed.

“I give up,” she mumbles into her pillow.

You glance at the clock. “On what? Life?”

“Basically.” She groans, turning her head just enough so her voice is no longer muffled. “I ran into my ex on the way back. He saw me trip on the dorm steps. I don’t think I can recover from this.”

You snort. “You literally dumped him. Why are you embarrassed?”

She lifts a hand in the air, shoving her middle finger at you. “I have my reasons.”

Shaking your head, you take another sip of water. “You could always poison his meal plan or something.”

“Maybe.” She turns onto her side, finally looking at you. “What about you? You were out late.”

You shrug. “Just went to get water.”

She narrows her eyes slightly. “And?”

“…And Mark was there.”

That gets her attention. She sits up properly now, leaning forward. “Oh?”

You frown. “What?”

She tilts her head at you. “Nothing. Just…interesting.”

You roll your eyes. “He spilled his ramen. I helped clean it up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s it.”

“Uh-huh.”

You sigh, climbing into bed. “What?”

“Nothing.” She flops back, pulling her blanket over her legs. “You just seem to run into him a lot.”

You pause for a second. “He lives upstairs.”

“Mhm.”

You throw your pillow at her before slumping into your bed as well, switching your lamp off with a sigh.

It’s not weird.

Mark lives upstairs. You’ve only run into him a couple of times. Completely normal, considering the dorm isn’t that big. Still, as you stare at the faint outline of your ceiling in the dark, you think back to the way he laughed, how he leaned against the counter, how his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

He’s cute. That’s just a fact. In an endearingly clueless way, with his messy hair and his habit of rubbing the back of his neck when he talks. Objectively cute. Universally acknowledged cute. Annoyingly cute, even.

But it’s not like that. Obviously.

You roll onto your side, pulling your blanket tighter around you.

Just a coincidence. 

You close your eyes, willing yourself to sleep, but for some reason, you can still hear his voice in your head. The soft laugh, the way he said we could grab real food sometime. The casualness of it.

Not an invitation. Not really. Right?

You huff, pressing your face into your pillow.

Whatever. You’ll probably forget about it by morning.

B

You hear the music before you see him.

The common room isn’t empty, but it’s quieter than usual—just the occasional shuffle of someone flipping through a textbook, the distant hum of the vending machine. And then there’s him.

Mark is curled up on the couch, one leg tucked under him, guitar resting easily against his chest. He’s not playing anything loud—just soft, absentminded strumming, like he’s working through a song in his head.

And you should keep walking. You really, really should.

But instead, you hesitate, shifting from one foot to the other just enough that the floor creaks under you. Mark glances up at the sound, fingers faltering slightly over the strings.

“Oh,” he says, blinking like he wasn’t expecting company. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you say back, already regretting this.

His lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile. “You look like you were about to turn around.”

You scoff, stepping fully into the room. “I was just—” You pause. What were you doing?

Mark tilts his head, waiting.

“I needed a break,” you sigh.

He nods, adjusting the guitar in his lap. “Good timing.”

He doesn’t elaborate, just keeps playing, and maybe that’s your cue to leave—but your feet carry you toward the couch anyway. You sit down—not next to him, but close enough to see the way his fingers move over the strings.

You watch for a second, then glance at his face. “You play in the daytime now?”

Mark exhales a quiet laugh. “Only because I’ve been feeling considerate towards a certain someone.”

You’re sure that there’s colour rising to your cheeks now, but you try to mask it off by laughing. “Wow. Growth.”

He shakes his head, letting out a soft hum under his breath, but he doesn’t deny it.

For a while, there’s no talking—just the sound of the guitar, the occasional scrape of his pick against the strings. You don’t realize how much time has passed until you catch yourself fully zoning out, elbows resting on your knees, watching his hands like an idiot.

Mark notices.

He doesn’t call you out for it, but his fingers slow slightly, like he’s suddenly aware of the attention.

You snap out of it immediately, shifting your gaze. Nope. Absolutely not.

Mark clears his throat, tapping his thumb against the body of the guitar. “You play?”

“What?”

“The guitar,” he says, nodding toward it. “You don’t play, do you?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No.”

Mark hums, considering. “Do you want to?”

You blink. “What?”

He shrugs, adjusting his grip. “I could teach you something. If you want.”

You hesitate. You could say no. You should say no.

But Mark is already tilting the guitar toward you, his brows raised in a quiet ‘well?’

And against all logic and reason, you reach for it. The guitar is heavier than you expected.

You fumble with it, your fingers slipping against the strings as you try to mimic the way Mark holds it. It feels unnatural, like trying to write with your non-dominant hand.

“Here,” Mark says, shifting closer on the couch. His knee brushes against yours, and you stiffen slightly, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t care. He reaches over, adjusting your grip. “You’re holding it like it’s gonna bite you.”

“Maybe it will,” you mutter.

Mark laughs, low and warm, and you try not to focus on how close he is. His fingers guide yours to the fretboard, pressing down on the strings. “This one’s the B,” he says, plucking it. A soft, clear note rings out.

You frown. “Sounds like every other string.”

“Wow.” He feigns offense, clutching his chest. “And here I thought you had an ear for music.”

“I have an ear for silence at 2 in the morning,” you deadpan.

Mark grins, “Fair.” He leans back slightly, but his knee stays pressed against yours. “Okay, try pressing here.” He taps a spot on the neck.

You attempt it, but the string vibrates pathetically under your finger.

“You’ve gotta press harder,” he says.

“I am pressing hard.”

Mark hums, skeptical. Then, before you can react, he reaches over and presses his finger on top of yours, adding pressure. “Like this.”

Your brain short-circuits.

His hand is warm. His fingers are calloused from playing. And he’s so close you can smell his stupid laundry detergent—the one that everyone else in this dorm uses.

You swallow. “...Right.”

Mark doesn’t move his hand. “You got it?”

"Yep." Your voice cracks slightly.

"Sure?" His thumb brushes against yours as he adjusts your positioning - just for a second, but it's enough to make your pulse jump.

"Positive." You stare very hard at the guitar's soundhole.

Mark finally pulls back, rubbing the back of his neck. The tips of his ears are pink. "So, uh. That's... the basics."

You strum all the strings at once. It sounds like a trash can falling down stairs. "I'm a prodigy."

Mark snorts. "Yeah. Next Ed Sheeran right here." He fiddles with his pick. "We could... keep practicing sometime. If you want.” You shrug. "I mean, I guess I owe you for not murdering me over that notice."

"I wouldn't say no to, like. Coffee instead." He says it too fast, then backtracks. "I mean—not like—just caffeine helps with—"

"Mark."

"Yeah?"

"You're rambling."

His shoulders hunch. "Right. Sorry."

You hand the guitar back. "But yeah, coffee's fine. The dining hall swill is killing me anyway."

Mark brightens instantly. "Remember that place across campus? Their cold brew is actually decent and they've got these chocolate croissants that—" He cuts himself off, clearing his throat. "I mean. If you're into that."

"Cold brew gives me heart palpitations." "Oh." His face falls. "We could find somewhere else—”

"But I'd commit crimes for a good chocolate croissant," you add.

Mark's smile returns, slow and warm. "Tomorrow? I'm free after two."

"Sure." You stand up, completely missing the way his fingers tap an anxious rhythm against the guitar body. "Don't be late."

"I won't!" It comes out too eager. He cringes at himself. "I mean. Yeah. Cool."

As you walk away, you don't see him slump back against the couch, dragging a hand down his face. You definitely don't hear the quiet, frustrated whisper of: "Smooth, Lee. Real smooth."

E

You're lacing up your sneakers when Giselle walks out of the bathroom, rubbing her damp hair with a towel. She pauses mid-step when she sees you.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting coffee with Mark." You tighten the knot on your shoe.

She stares. Then, very deliberately, looks you up and down.

You're in a hoodie (a slightly wrinkled one), sweatpants, and the same sneakers you've been wearing for three years.

"...Dressed like that?"

You frown. "What?"

She gestures vaguely at your entire existence. "You're just going out like that?"

You scoff. "Dude. We’re just hanging out."

Giselle presses her lips together like she’s trying very, very hard not to lose her mind.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

You glance up. She's watching you in the mirror, towel slung over one shoulder, eyes sharp.

You narrow your eyes. "What."

She exhales sharply. "Okay, tell me this: how many times has Mark asked you to ‘hang out’?"

You shrug. "I dunno. A few times? Haven’t really been able to go."

"And these ‘hangouts’—" she makes little air quotes, "—were they things like, ‘Hey, wanna grab food?’ or ‘Hey, wanna get coffee?’ Or, oh, I don’t know, ‘Hey, wanna come sit really close to me while I teach you how to play guitar?’"

Your mouth opens. Closes.

Because, yeah. That is... exactly how it’s been.

Giselle sees the realization hit. "Oh my God," she says, dragging a hand down her face. "He’s been asking you out this entire time!"

You blink. "What? No. He hasn’t—he’s just been nice."

Giselle shoots you a deadpan look. "Nice?"

"Yeah!" You wave a hand. "Some people just—invite other people to do stuff! It’s normal!"

Giselle rubs her temples. "Okay. Let’s say, for a second, that I believe you. Do you think Mark has asked anyone else to ‘just hang out’ like this?"

You open your mouth. Pause.

Giselle’s smile is way too smug. "Mhm. Exactly."

You shift uncomfortably. "Okay, but—but what if you're wrong? What if this is just his personality?"

Giselle flops dramatically onto her bed. "Then I will personally apologize to you for enabling your delusions." She waves you off. "Now go. And if he confesses, don't let your dumbass panic and run into traffic."

You scowl. "That happened one time."

Giselle is already onto her dressing table, raking through her makeup brushes.

You check the time. Mark’s already waiting.

Your stomach flips.

You swallow. "I'm gonna go."

"Yeah," Giselle sighs, rolling onto her side. "Go figure your shit out."

—

You’re definitely overthinking this as the two of you walk around campus.

Mark walks beside you, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, shoulders relaxed. He kicks a stray pebble down the sidewalk, eyes mostly on the ground. Meanwhile, you are internally spiraling.

Because Giselle’s words won’t leave you alone.

"He’s been asking you out this whole time."

And the more you think about it, the more obvious it feels.

The coffee. The late-night talks. The stupid guitar lesson where his hand had covered yours, warm and steady.

You sneak a glance at him. He looks normal. Maybe a little cold, but not like someone who’s been trying to ask you out for weeks.

You fidget with your sleeves. Just ask. It’s Mark. It’s not like he’s gonna laugh in your face. Right?

“…Hey.”

Mark glances over. “Hm?”

You swallow. “So. This whole, uh. Hanging out thing.”

His brows lift slightly, like he’s waiting for you to continue.

You take a deep breath. “You—you weren’t, like. Asking me out, were you?”

Mark stumbles.

Not dramatically, but just enough that his shoe drags weirdly on the pavement.

You immediately regret everything. “Never mind! Stupid question, forget I—”

“What?” Mark fully stops walking.

You stop too, face burning.

Mark turns to you, brows slightly furrowed, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. “…Why would you ask that?”

You die internally. “Giselle said something,” you mumble.

Mark blinks. Then he shifts from one foot to another. “What… exactly did she say?”

You stare very hard at the sidewalk. “Just. That you might’ve been, um. Subtly. Asking me out this whole time.”

Silence.

You dare to look at him.

His ears are so red.

“Oh,” he says, voice sounding a bit strung, higher than usual.

You panic. “You don’t have to say anything! I just—”

“I mean,” Mark rubs the back of his neck, looking very interested in a nearby streetlamp. “I… kinda was?”

Your stomach flips.

Oh.

Oh.

Mark winces. “Not in, like, a weird way! Just—” He exhales, rubbing his temple. “I thought you were cool. That night when you came up, i thought you were like…really pretty. And I figured, if you weren’t interested, we could just keep hanging out and it wouldn’t be—” He gestures vaguely. “A thing.”

You nod. Maybe too much. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

Mark watches you carefully. “So, uh. Is it weird now?”

You pretend to think, but you already know your answer. You can see Mark’s shoulders shrinking with every waiting second.

“No.”

Mark’s shoulders relax. “Oh. Cool.”

You fidget with your sleeve. Your breath stutters.

“I think I like you too,” you admit, voice way too soft.

Mark stares for a few seconds, like he almost didn’t hear you, before his whole face lights up.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Uh. That’s—that’s cool.”

You laugh, nervous. “Yeah?”

He nods, a little too fast. “Yeah.”

When he looks at you again, he’s still flushed, still blinking like he’s trying to process this in real time.

“So, uh,” he starts, “what now?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

You rock back on your heels. “I mean… we’re still getting coffee?”

Mark lets out a soft laugh, like he hadn’t even considered otherwise. “Right. Yeah. Obviously.”

The two of you start walking again, a little slower this time. The air between you is different now—not awkward, but buzzing, like a chord just on the verge of ringing out.

You steal a glance at him. His hands are jammed in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, but there’s something almost relieved in the way he carries himself now. Like he wasn’t expecting this to go well.

You bite your lip, hesitating.

“You know,” You begin, “I thought you were cute too.”

“What?” Mark lets out, a little too loudly.

It almost makes you giggle. “That night when I came up to complain. I was supposed to go all out on you and make sure you’d never play your stupid guitar again. I was quite serious about cutting your strings off.”

Mark shakes his head sheepishly with a small laugh. 

“But when you opened the door, I kind of forgot all of that.”

He stares at you, lips parted slightly like you just short-circuited his entire brain.

You shrug, suddenly feeling way too exposed. “I dunno. You just—looked cute.”

Mark drags a hand over his face, groaning. “What the hell.”

You blink. “What?”

“That’s so unfair,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “You showed up looking all pissed off and intimidating, and I was standing there in, like, the ugliest shirt I own.”

You snort. “It wasn’t that ugly.”

Mark groans again, looking up at the sky, almost too embarrassed to meet your eyes. “This is crazy.”

“What is?” you ask, still laughing.

“That you thought I was cute!” He gestures wildly. “Like. That doesn’t happen!”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach is doing so many flips. “Shut up.”

Mark looks at you for a second, then exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. The tips of his ears are still bright red. “I was really nervous that night, you know,” he admits.

Your brows lift. “Really?”

He nods. “You were just—you had this whole, like, ‘I will end you’ vibe, and I was trying so hard not to make it worse. But then you kinda—” He stops, mouth twitching. “You hesitated. Just for a second. And I thought, ‘Oh. She’s not actually as scary as she looks.’”

You gasp, shoving his shoulder. “Wow. Rude.”

Mark laughs, bumping into you slightly. “Sorry, sorry. But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You purse your lips. “Debatable.”

Mark hums, tilting his head. “Guess I’ll have to spend more time with you to figure it out.”

Your heart does a weird little jump.

You don’t let yourself overthink it.

Instead, you nudge him back, eyes flicking forward to the coffee shop just ahead. “You better buy me the best chocolate croissant they have.”

Mark grins. “Deal.”

And when his fingers brush yours, just briefly, you don’t pull away.

[kingkaisen]

REUNION! — Satoru Gojo.

♡ — SUMMARY; you & gojo are childhood friends who haven’t seen each other in years. while he went on to become a sorcerer, you went down a dark path. but he’ll certainly have no problem on his mission to stop you, right?

♡ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — SPOILERS IN THE WARNINGS: fem! reader, friends to strangers to lovers, angst, smut, grinding, blindfolded sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, violent death, drinking, reader is a curse user.

♡ — A/N; sorry for the long word count! no im not!

♡ — WC; 7k

“Y/N, Y/N, make me a promise, okay?” The white-haired kid ran up to you, high green grass tickling his knees as he did so, his childish grin as bright as the summer sun shining above.

At such a young age, still a boy and not yet a sorcerer, you were still taller than he was despite him being one year older, something he reminded you of quite often.

“Y/N!” He shouted again, “I said we need-we need to make a promise.”

“Okay, okay, stop shouting, ‘Toru,” you pushed yourself to your feet, abandoning your previous spot among the grass where you admired the colorful flowers growing. You knew one thing for certain — flower crowns were going to be made for you and Satoru this afternoon.

And he’d wear his until his clan members yanked it off of his invaluable head.

“Okay, hold out your hand,” Satoru huffed, out of breath, but still grinning. He held a closed fist behind his back, and you looked at him distrustfully. The last time he did something similar to this, he planted a bug on your skin.

“Nuh-uh! What’s behind your back?” You frowned.

“You gotta trust me, c’mon, pleaseee?”

After a moment of hesitation, you extended your arm and held out your hand.

Satoru wasted no time placing something on your palm. Something small. Circular. Cold.

When he pulled his hand away, a ring glistened back at you, and you stared at it with wide, curious eyes.

“What’s this for?”

“It means you’re my wife now. That’s how marriage works, okay? We promise to get married ‘cause I gave you a ring, and now I’m your huz-band.”

Suddenly, Satoru whipped around as fast as he could, running away as he giggled, leaving you alone and dumbfounded in your front yard.

But you didn’t bother chasing after him. The aroma of your mother’s delicious soup seeped through the front door and into the yard, traveling under your nose, and you knew that Satoru would return for dinner. He always did.

—

YEARS LATER

—

SATORU GOJO recognized this room. The old-fashioned furniture — which, years ago, was considered stylish — hadn’t been changed in decades. The couch that he once sat on was covered in a thick layer of dust. The TV set across from it was an outdated little thing, and as he touched the black box, he remembered when you and he would sit in front of it and watch reruns of your favorite cartoons. He smiled softly at the bittersweet memory.

But, that smile quickly turned into a concerned frown when he heard footsteps coming from the nearby kitchen. You appeared, stepping through the archway.

“She’s really here,” Satoru thought.

After all, he felt your presence, but he wasn’t certain if it was because you were nearby, or if it was from being inside of your abandoned childhood home.

“Y/N . . .” Satoru called out.

He didn’t know why he called your name. Maybe it was to confirm that it was actually you. After all, he could barely see your face due to the surrounding darkness thanks to the lack of power. All he had to go off of was the information his Six Eyes presented him, and the moonlight shining through the big living room window that illuminated half of your body.

But he couldn’t blame the lack of light for why it was so difficult to recognize you.

He hadn’t seen you in years. Years.

The last time he looked into your eyes, they were glistening with tears from falling and scraping your knee during a game of tag.

“You look well. You look . . . strong,” you said.

The sound of your voice was startling. He had forgotten what it sounded like after so many years, but then again, his memory of it would have been inaccurate, because you no longer sounded like a child, of course.

“What’s going on? What are you doing here? Where the hell have you been?”

Satoru had more questions. Hundreds. Thousands.

“I came here because I needed a place to hide. Figured my parent’s old house would do the trick. Looks like I was wrong,” you put your hands into your pockets. “What are you doing here? How’d you find me?”

“There was . . .” he couldn’t think. After spending so much time imagining his reunion with you, his dear old friend, he never imagined that it would be so strange. So odd. “There was a mission. Someone spotted the curse user who killed four humans this morning fleeing into this neighborhood. I’m guessing that was you.”

You didn’t respond immediately. You only looked the tall man up and down.

“If they sent the inheritor of the Six Eyes out for a little mission like this, you didn’t turn out to be as strong as everyone predicted, huh? And it was six, right?”

“I volunteered for this mission because I recognized the neighborhood. They were going to send my students, but-”

“But you knew I’d be here. You hoped I’d be here.” You interrupted him, smiling as you spoke, as if you were both having a lighthearted conversation, chitchatting like good ol’ pals. “You have students? So you became a teacher? That’s interesting.”

“And you became a damn curse user.” Satoru spoke through gritted teeth, briefly snatching his blindfolded eyes away from you and looking out the window, taking in the moonlit sight of the overgrown grass in the front yard. “I’m going to ask you one last time, Y/N. What happened, and where have you been? Why’d you just disappear?”

You took a few steps in his direction. He debated backing away from you, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be close to you, even if it was dangerous.

“I disappeared?” You raised your eyebrows. “I might’ve left, but you were the one who disappeared first.”

“How did I-”

“You stopped coming around, ‘Toru.”

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat. The rest of the world might’ve called him Satoru, or Gojo, or the World’s Strongest Sorcerer, but to you, he was simply ‘Toru.

“We hung out every day together, played outside, and ate dinner in that room right there,” you nodded towards the kitchen, “but you had forgotten all about me by the time we were eleven or twelve. I get it, you were the rich kid from a prestigious clan. Had to learn how to control your power and fight. I get it. But you still left first.”

“Why did you kill four people today, Y/N?”

You were both only a few inches apart, close enough to feel each other’s warmth in such a cold room. When your head turned away from him, your body soon to follow, Satoru interrupted your movements by grabbing ahold of your chin. He forced your eyes back in his direction — back up at his face.

“Answer me.” Gojo’s words carried the weight of anger and sadness in them, and that misery created a lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow. “Why’d you do it?”

“Didn’t have a choice.”

“Don’t be vague. Tell me what happened.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters because unless you explain yourself, you’ll-”

“Don’t pretend to care about me now.” You smiled softly, staring at his blindfold, leaving him to wonder if you could somehow see through it — if your stare was powerful enough to glare through his cloth and into his shielded eyes. “We don’t know each other anymore. We’re strangers. If I was strong enough, I’d kill you and not feel a thing afterward. Could you do the same?”

“I might not have a choice,” Satoru mumbled. “Unless you surrender, I won’t have a choice.”

His thumb stroked the skin of your cheek, and although the touch was foreign — strange, even — you didn’t shudder.

“You won’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” His hand fell away from your face as he spoke, taking the warmth his touch brought with him. “What makes you so confident? I’ve had to kill an old friend before. I’m just hoping I won’t have to do that today.”

“The reason why you’re going to let me go right now is because you feel guilty. You left an old friend behind because your clan told you it was the right thing to do. You didn’t know better. That isn’t your fault. But you still feel guilty, because my parents died and I went down a pretty dark path, and even though I wrote you a shitty letter telling you to never look for me, I couldn’t have stopped you if you really wanted to find me. But you didn’t. And now you’re thinking to yourself that, maybe, if you ignored my letter and searched for me anyway, I wouldn’t have become a curse user, right? Blaming yourself for everything is a burden you’ll have to carry for the rest of your life, and if you have to carry the weight of my death on your shoulders too, you won’t be able to handle it. You might end up going down the same dark path as I did. Or as the friend you killed in the past did,” your soft smile never faltered. “So, you’re gonna let me go, tell whoever you work for that I got away, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

You started to turn away, much like you had done earlier, but this time, it wasn’t Satoru’s touch that halted your footsteps, but the sound of his voice.

“No,” he mumbled.

“No?” You raised your brows.

“I don’t know how the rest of this night’s gonna go. We might try to kill each other, I might let you go, you might surrender, I don’t know. But right now, I don’t wanna . . .” He paused, searching his overworked mind for the right words to say. “I wanna talk to you. Can we?”

During your childhood, your little talks amounted to the both of you sitting side-by-side on your porch, making flower crowns, discussing which animals were the coolest or the lamest. Now, Satoru unfolded an old, blue blanket he found in a hallway closet and tossed it across the wooden floor. He sat down. It was muscle memory — sitting on the floor in front of the couch rather than on it, as his subconscious mind still remembered the days when your parents occupied the tiny sofa, leaving you and him with no other choice but to flop down on the ground in front of them if you wanted to watch television too — not that either one of you minded.

The floor creaked underneath your booted feet. Satoru looked to his right and took in the sight of you approaching with a special bottle of aged wine.

“Hope you don’t mind drinking out of a bottle. The glasses are all dusty, and I’m not putting my lips on those,” you said, gently plopping down beside him.

There you both were, sitting on the blanketed floor in front of your couch and across from the lifeless television, but with the gorgeous moon and stars bright and visible through the big window; the night sky itself was a show of twinkling beauty.

“I’m surprised you agreed to this. You’re pretty hardheaded.” Satoru watched you remove the thin foil wrapped around the top of the wine, insert a corkscrew, and twist it with great expertise. One certainly didn’t need a master’s degree to open wine, but he couldn’t help but wonder if you often sought the solution to your woes at the bottom of an alcoholic beverage until it ran dry.

“Yeah, I’m pretty stubborn, but I’m not a devil, and I’m not angry with you or anything, so why not?” Pressing the bottle to your lips, you took a sip, letting the earthy flavors slip down your tongue and throat. Gently, you gulped. “At the end of the day, I wanna talk. I’m curious about you too.”

“Right, well, I have a hard time believing that, considering you just said you’d kill me and not feel a thing, huh?”

“That’s just life. Nothing personal.” Your hand held the neck of the bottle as you passed it to Satoru. He thought about you both passing a juice box back and forth in a similar way to this, once upon a time.

“So, did you actually have something you wanted to talk about, or are you just stalling before your comrades get here?” Your distrustful eyes stared at the side of his pale, moonlit face as you spoke. “Nevermind. Dumb question. You wouldn’t need backup. You’re the strongest, so I’ve heard.”

“Earlier, I asked you why you killed those people, and you said you didn’t have a choice. Care to elaborate?” Satoru spoke as if you had said nothing only moments before, and it was crystal clear that his mind was elsewhere, and there, it would stay, until he found the answer to why his old best friend became a curse user. A murderer.

“Not really,” your mouth stretched as a yawn escaped you.

“Care to try?”

“There’s nothing to tell. You were born to be who you are now, a damn hero or whatever, and I was born to do . . . this.”

“Do you honestly believe something as stupid as that?” Satoru took a sip of the wine. His face scrunched up as if the beverage was both poison and yet, an antidote to his problems. “Own up to what you’ve done. Don’t blame it on your birth or the way you were raised. I knew your parents. They were good people-”

“They were good people, and that’s what got them killed,” you interrupted. The air was as thick with tension as it was with dust. You sighed. You took the wine bottle back from him, taking a sip before you spoke — softer, this time. “Listen, if we’re just going to sit here and talk about my sins, then I’m gonna leave.”

“The last time I saw you, you were crying because you accidentally squashed a ladybug, can you blame me for wondering what happened to you? What turned you into a curse user? And you still haven’t told me where you’ve been before now.”

“I’ve been right here.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh yeah? And how would you know?”

“I know because I did look for you even though you told me not to.” Satoru’s voice was shaky but his tone was undoubtedly sincere. It was impossible to deny that his words were honest. “I looked everywhere. As soon as I got your letter, I destroyed it, and ever since, I’ve followed every trail and clue that I thought would lead me to you. Every time I traveled to a different country for a mission, I wondered if you were there. I spent the rest of my childhood, my teenage years, and my early twenties looking for you, until I realized the only reason it was so difficult was because you didn’t want to be found.”

The floor became your new point of focus. You stared holes into creaky wooden boards, processing Satoru’s words. “Why didn’t you say that earlier? I had no idea.”

“Would it have made a difference?” Satoru hooked his finger underneath his blindfold and pulled at it casually for a moment, playing with it. Neither one of you touched the wine bottle. “So, after covering your tracks all this time, why didn’t you cover them now? You wanted to get caught, right? Why?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Oh my god, you’re annoying.” You released a light breath of air in both humor and frustration. “After all these years, you’re still annoying as hell.”

“Damn right I am,” Satoru smiled as he looked over at you, and, surprisingly, not only did you glance over at him, but you smiled too — which made his heart skip a beat — and it wasn’t one of your false grins from earlier, but a genuine, heartwarming smile.

Satoru couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful expression on your lips.

“Hey, can you take off your blindfold?”

Your question made his eyes dart from your mouth to your curious gaze.

“Hm? Why?”

“I wanna see your entire face. Just for a minute,” you said.

A faint memory of little ‘Toru slumping around and complaining about his severe headaches crossed your mind. Your mother would make him rest on the couch right behind you both, close his eyes, and she’d place a wet towel across his forehead. You figured that was what the blindfold was for.

Satoru hooked his finger around his blindfold — the top of it this time — and pulled the black cloth down his face. He was going to let it dangle around his neck with the intention of placing it back over his eyes momentarily, but suddenly, your fingers were curling around it. You pulled it across his neck and head, taking it off of him.

He watched you with amused, yet curious bright blue eyes. You tugged the cloth around your own eyes, adjusting the blindfold until it sat perfectly on your face.

“I can’t see a thing, what the hell,” you said, glancing around though your vision amounted to nothing except darkness.

During such an ordinary moment, Satoru discovered something about himself.

Though he admired your irresistible voice, captivating smile, and pretty lips, there was something — something — so incredibly intoxicating about seeing you wear his blindfold. More intoxicating than the wine.

God, he could barely handle it.

He shifted his position. It might have looked like he was simply uncomfortable sitting on the hard floor despite the blanket serving as a bit of cushion, but in all actuality, he was trying to prevent his cock from hardening against the fabric of his pants.

But he couldn’t do a damn thing about the light shade of pink that dusted across his cheeks.

He half-heartedly hoped you’d keep the blindfold on so you wouldn’t notice, but you soon took it off, handing it back.

When you tossed the little black thing to him, your eyes locked with his. Yours widened a bit. Distant moonlight reflected off of your eyes as you did so. Shocked, you seemed.

Satoru felt like an exposed nerve. Had you suddenly realized what was happening? Had his blushing face revealed his secrets; that he wanted to both kiss you as hard as he could and fuck you, right here, as you wore his blindfold?

Suddenly, you started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Satoru asked.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just the alcohol, I’m sorry.” You shook your head. It was a lame excuse, considering you hadn’t had enough wine to feel tipsy. “It’s just that, uh, in the kindest way possible, you turned out to be way more handsome than I expected.”

“Excuse me?” Satoru raised his brows, amusingly pretending to be more offended than he actually was.

“I’m sorry, but as a kid . . . you were kinda funny-looking. You had . . . like . . .” Putting your hands up nearest your head, you spread them apart, emphasizing that, in your opinion, little ‘Toru had a really big head.

“Okay, so you thought I was the ugliest person to ever exist, good to know,” Satoru playfully shoved your hands down.

“Oh my god, I didn’t say that. You’re so dramatic,” you laughed, and he joined in on your joyous little chuckle.

After a few moments, the sound of laughter drifted off into a comfortable silence. Your eyes met your lap, but Satoru couldn’t bring himself to glance away from you as he questioned, “You have anyone in your life that you care for? Any loved ones?”

“Nope. Just me,” you mumbled.

“Sounds lonely.”

“What about you, then?”

“I care about my students. One of them I’ve looked after since he was a kid. I have a couple of friends, but aside from that, I think it’s safe to say that I’m lonely too. Pathetic, right?”

“Pathetic, but unsurprising,” you shrugged. “Now I get why we’re both talking to each other right now. Who else do we have?”

After all, being a god and being a devil — being an Honored One and being a Disgraced One — were both lonely businesses.

Suddenly, you got up off of the raggedy blanket, nearly knocking over the wine as you rushed into the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Satoru asked, his eyes following your urgent movements.

“I’ll be right back.”

Momentarily, you returned. You cradled two small white bags in your arms, and upon recognizing what it happened to be, Satoru both scoffed and laughed.

“Snacks? You brought snacks?”

“Well, yeah, I planned to hide out here for a while,” you tossed Satoru a bag of Goldfish crackers. “There you go. Bon appetite or whatever.”

The old floor croaked as you sat back down on the blanket. Gentle squeaks of your bag being opened filled the air, but Satoru hadn’t yet opened his.

“You can have that bag, ‘Toru. Don’t be shy. These things are hard to find.”

“No, here,” Satoru reached out, bag in hand. “If you’re gonna be on the run for a while, I’m not gonna make things harder on you by eating what little food you packed.”

“What?” You froze, nearly dropping the Goldfish crackers within your grasp. “You’re letting me go?”

“There’s no other option. You don’t wanna turn yourself in, I can’t make myself kill you, so . . .” Satoru sighed. Though he too had what most would consider childish taste buds, he had no desire to eat any Goldfish crackers. He did, however, reach for the much-needed wine bottle. “I’m gonna regret this tomorrow. Maybe the higher-ups will fire me and I can finally go on a decent vacation. I’m thinking the Bahamas, what do you think? I could use a little sun-”

“Hey,” you interrupted. “You know just as well as I do that if you wanted to overpower me without killing me and turn me over to the higher-ups, I couldn’t stop you. One twist of the ankle, and I’m all yours. Don’t tell me you can’t even bring yourself to hurt me a little.”

Satoru pressed the wine against his lips, swallowed a tiny sip, then spoke.

“I don’t necessarily want to see you locked away either, assuming they won’t go ahead and kill you for what you’ve done lately. They’ve executed for less,” Satoru's face grew long, those powerful eyes of his filled with sadness. “You should leave.”

“Thank you, Toru.”

A beat of silence passed. Neither one of you moved from your spots. Instead, you swallowed half a handful of goldfish.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me,” Satoru blinked. “I said you should leave . . . I mean now.”

“I’m not ready to leave right this second,” you grabbed Satoru’s hand, flipped it over, and poured a few pieces of Goldfish crackers into his palm. “I’ve missed you, ya know? Who knows if I’ll ever see you again?”

“So, when you said you’d kill me and not feel anything, that was a lie, right?”

“You keep bringing that up. Did I hurt your feelings?”

“Of course you did. Don’t let my ego fool you,” Satoru smiled. “I’m a little sensitive.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was a lie. I can’t kill someone and not feel a thing, and you wouldn’t be an exception.”

“Tell me why you killed four people,” Satoru faced you, but, yet again, your eyes weren’t on him. “Why did you say you didn’t have a choice?”

“Stop asking me about that.” You tossed a few more of the tiny crackers into your mouth before folding the bag shut.

“Sorry,” Satoru said.

“You’re not gonna keep prying?”

“Not if it’ll make you leave quicker.” Satoru couldn’t stand it — your pretty eyes on anything and everything except him. He gently cupped your chin, turned your head in his direction, and said, “I like getting to know you all over again, even if it isn’t pretty. I can’t believe I’m gonna lose you in a few minutes.”

“It doesn’t have to be in a few minutes. I could stay longer,” you spoke softly. There was something about looking into his eyes that made your insides crumble. You found yourself rather grateful that he hadn’t yet put his blindfold back on.

Satoru ran his thumb over your lips. Those gifted eyes of his might have the power to deliver extraordinary information to him, but right now, all they did was convey his greatest desires to you as they repeatedly darted down to your soft lips.

“I could stay . . . maybe a few hours. When do you have to report back?” You whispered.

“In a few hours.”

Satoru leaned in, pressing soft kisses along your neck. He had planned on being gentle, but when the softest moan fell from between your pretty lips, he couldn’t help but suck on the skin. Nibble at it. Do any and every little thing that would make your sweet noises even louder as his large hands gripped your hair.

The sorcerer had a dream; he wanted to worship every inch of you. He wanted to taste your perfect skin, memorize the way it felt against his lips, but you were both pressed for time.

Damn it all.

His grip on your hair tightened as he trailed his lips across your collarbones, but he came to an abrupt stop when your shirt prevented him from going any lower.

“Take this off,” he demanded.

Though the command was for you, he hooked his fingers around your top and pulled it off, leaving you in nothing except your bra — Satoru’s cock started to harden in his pants again. He was rather certain he could and, perhaps, would, cum from the sight of you, topless, underneath the moonlight pouring through the window.

You expected to feel his lips on you again. It was quite a surprise when, instead, he practically lifted you and placed your back on the soft blanket. He moved in between your legs, his body hovering over yours until his clothed cock was pressed against you.

“‘Toru,” You spoke, breathless, as the sight of his gorgeous face above yours rendered you nearly speechless. “What are we doing?”

“Saying goodbye,” He said.

“It’s dusty in here. Aren’t you worried about your allergies?”

“I don’t have any allergies,” Satoru gave a humored smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“You’re driving me crazy,” Satoru shook his head, but his grin never faded, nor would it.

Well, for the next five seconds, at least, because he started to grind, and gentle moans poured from him as soon as he rubbed his dick against your clothed pussy.

“Faster, go faster,” you gripped his white strands of hair.

His only response came in the form of a groan escaping his throat. He couldn’t speak just yet. He could only increase his speed. Never did he think he would start to come undone from simply grinding against you, but it was you.

Satoru moved his hands down to your thighs, his large hands gripping them and holding them apart in an attempt to grind himself harder against your clit. He didn’t mean to be so rough, to risk leaving bruises on your delicate skin, but he couldn’t fucking help it.

“You’re gonna make me cum right in my pants. They’re brand new,” Satoru whispered in your ear. You felt his breath against the shell of it, then suddenly, his teeth gave it a small nibble, followed by a slow lick with his warm tongue. “I think I’d rather cum inside of you. ‘s that crazy?”

This time, it was your turn to offer moaning as a form of response.

“What’s the matter?” He cooed. “Can’t answer me, baby?”

He released one of your thighs. That hand raised you up just a little, enough for Satoru to unhook your bra, drag the straps along your arms, and toss it across the living room.

His hand made its way to one of your nipples. He rubbed it with his thumb.

“‘Toru, please,” you whined.

“Please what? I can’t read minds.” He smirked yet again. Oh, was he enjoying this. “You had the audacity to become a curse user, but you can’t find the nerve to tell me what you want right now?”

Satoru adjusted himself, moving lower and lower until his mouth hovered over your other nipple. He wanted so desperately to toy with you longer, but you were tantalizing. His tongue was flicking at your nipple without a second thought. He latched his mouth around it, sucking, sucking, and sucking.

His hand had a mind of its own, unbuttoning your pants and running his fingers across your underwear, dancing over your covered clit until the fabric of your panties was soaked.

How, just how was he supposed to let you go after this?

“You’re such a damn tease,” you could feel the tips of his fingers gently apply pressure to your clit. “That’s . . . all I gotta say.”

“Oh?” He was quick to snatch his hand away from your clit, and his mouth away from your nipple. Though he would have preferred to simply die than do either. “You’re saying you don’t want me to fuck you then, right?”

“Careful,” your moonlit eyes met his. “If you do, you might get too attached, and you won’t be able to let me go.”

There it was. That stubborn, bratty behavior he was madly addicted to.

“Then let’s make a deal,” Satoru leaned up, taking off his zip-up jacket. He then started to unbuckle his pants. “If I cum first, we go our separate ways. If you cum first, I’m thinking . . . I’ll go with you.”

“Wait, are you serious? You’d really go with me?” You propped yourself up, your elbows digging into the blanket underneath your back. “You’d throw away your entire career and ruin your reputation for a curse user you’ve been reunited with for an hour?”

“It’s only been an hour, huh?” Satoru paused, looking into your eyes as he shrugged off your shoes, pants, and your underwear. “An hour means nothing when I’ve loved you my entire life.”

His blue eyes darted across your face. They were gathering information. Searching for even the slightest twitch or sparkle in your gaze to understand how you processed his confession.

But there was no need. Your words were a brutal reflection of your feelings.

“Those are pretty words, but I don’t believe you.”

Satoru sighed, but he smiled. After all, he knew you, and he had expected those words, albeit a bit heartbreaking, to fall from your lips.

“Then I’ll just shut up and show you.” Satoru reached for his blindfold that had gotten mixed up in the pile of your discarded clothes.

The sound of angelic moans and wooden floorboards creaking underneath you and Satoru’s thrusting weight was much too loud, considering you were supposed to be hiding out. But it couldn’t be helped — his big cock stuffed your insides with every bump of his hips, and you couldn’t see a damn thing.

The white-haired man tugged his blindfold over your eyes right before he entered you, which was a wildly stupid move on his part, being that seeing you wearing it earlier is what led to him wanting to fuck you in the first place. Therefore, putting it on you when he was trying to use all his unimaginable strength to hold back his brewing orgasm wasn’t the wisest decision.

Not that your idiotic deal mattered.

He wasn’t foolish enough to truly rest such an important fate on his ability to not cum as soon as he sunk his cock into your awaiting pussy; his mind was already made. Nothing would stop him from going with you. Nothing.

“Damn it,” Satoru’s eyelids fluttered closed. “I can’t stand you. You’re gonna make me cum already.”

God, you were utterly perfect. His hard dick was soaked in your sweet juices, and with every pump, your tight hole seemed to not want to let him go, as if it was on a mission to milk him for all he was worth. His balls felt heavy, though his legs felt as if they were going weak. He was close, so close to shooting his pearly white load deep inside of you.

But you were the one starting to become undone.

You started to squirm around, back arching off of the ground, nails digging into the flesh of Satoru’s muscular back. That damned Honored One knew what he was doing when he put his blindfold on you. Having no sight forced you to focus your other senses on the way his cock stimulated your sweet spot, weighty balls slapped against your ass, and delicious moans gushed into your ear.

“I-I can’t, ‘Toru, I . . .”

“What are you blabbering about now, sweetheart?” Satoru moved his head a little ways lower. His tongue ran from your jaw, across your cheek, and stopped right beneath the blindfold. There, he kissed you.

His question was answered in the form of a toe-curling orgasm suddenly possessing your body. Shouts of his name spewed from your lips like a prayer, and that? That was all it took for his own orgasm to overtake him as well.

“Look at you, cumming all over me,” he hooked his hands underneath your trembling knees, shoving your legs back. “I’m right there too. Hold still. I want you to feel every last drop of it.”

The end of his sentence started to trail off into a whisper as he started to cum. And he could only moan and cum. Cum and moan.

“Fuck- oh, fuck,” He shoved every inch of his dick inside of you, rhythmically rocking his hips again, fucking his seed into you deeply. “That’s it. Take it. You’re so perfect . . . perfect for me.”

The last droplets of his cum were still filling your insides when Satoru’s phone started to ring. It was an obnoxious disruption that made you whine with great annoyance, and Satoru sighed. But, after all, he was still on a mission.

He didn’t yet fully pull out, but he leaned up, took the blindfold off of you, and patted around in the mess of your bundled clothing for his cell phone.

“Who is it?” You asked tiredly.

The phone screen illuminated his frowning face much like the moonlight did yours.

“A bunch of fools,” he mumbled.

Satoru answered the call — he had no choice.

“What?” he pressed the phone against his ear, grimacing at the sound of a higher-up’s voice.

You couldn’t make out what the caller was saying, but Satoru’s disinterested facial expressions told the story of a sorcerer getting scolded like a child.

“Yeah . . . I know . . .” Satoru ran his hand over your nude upper body, toying absentmindedly with one of your tits. His thumb graced your nipple, and trying not to moan was a challenge you lost.

“Shhh,” he frowned down at you, pulling the phone away from his ear momentarily.

He adjusted his position. That, in turn, made him drive his cock deeper into your slick walls, which ejected a sharp, loud moan from you. Satoru Gojo was a smirking asshole, and that asshole shoved two of his fingers in your mouth, silencing you, all before bucking his hips again.

“No, I haven’t found her yet, but don’t worry, she’s-” he thrusted again, “close.”

Suddenly, Satoru’s face changed from a cocky grin to one of disappointment. His grip on his cell phone tightened.

“You want me to come back? Right now? But what about the-” The caller interrupted Satoru, who pulled both his fingers out of your mouth, and his cock out of your pussy.

Whoever was speaking to the sorcerer wasn’t yet done talking, but that didn’t stop Satoru from rolling his eyes and promptly ending the phone call.

“What’s going on?” You sat up, reaching for your bra.

“This entire thing is just one big shit show.” Satoru grabbed his pants as he continued, “I have to give a mid-mission report to those stupid old fools because they don’t trust me.”

“Well, in their defense, you did just kinda fuck me, and you’re planning on letting me go,” you smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We weren’t finished.” Satoru scrunched up your top, pulling it down over your head and across your chest for you. “So much for our reunion, but at least I got to fuck a curse user. Still, though. I had big plans.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, you know,” he suddenly rested his hand on your pussy, giving it a gentle pat. “Eating you out. Guess I’ll just have to hurry back.”

“You’re coming back? That dumb deal wasn’t a joke?” You shook your head, putting your feet through your underwear. “No. I can’t let you throw your life away. You’re crazy.”

As Satoru finished dressing, he spoke, “You came before all of it. You were there before I could even spell the word jujutsu. I regretted not putting you first my entire life for years now, and I won’t make that mistake again. I promise, so, shut up.”

He stood up. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, noting the look of distrust in your eyes.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll be right back, alright?” He planted another kiss on your soft cheek. “Wait here.”

And, with that, Satoru was gone, leaving you alone on the blanket in the dusty living room of your deceased parents.

There, in the darkness, your only source of light being what the moon had to offer, you pulled both the bottle of wine and your Goldfish crackers closer to you. Despite your lack of belief that the World’s Strongest Sorcerer would return, you waited.

—

TWO HOURS LATER

—

The higher-ups talked endlessly, and by the time they wrapped up their impromptu meeting, Satoru had decided that he would soon murder every single one of them.

Only towards the end of the meeting did they inform him that he was no longer assigned to the mission of capturing or killing you, but other sorcerers were dispatched to your exact location.

Other sorcerers who didn’t plan on capturing you at all.

Other sorcerers who had been sent to your hideout 45 minutes prior.

He returned to your parent’s abandoned home as quickly as he could, standing in the patchy grass of the front yard, but it was much too late. The cursed energy that radiated from the destroyed property made him go weak at the knees. And, oh, was it destroyed.

The front door was ripped from its hinges. The living room window was shattered, surrounding walls crumbled to ruins, and he could see where the blanket you had both made love on just hours prior used to be. The couch you both leaned your backs against while chatting with wine and snacks was now split in half. Foam covered the blood-soaked floor.

He could see all of that from the front yard.

Going into your parent’s house made the sight significantly worse.

You locked eyes with him.

Relief flooded his senses, his lips nearly upturning into a smile.

That was, until he trailed his eyes down and saw that nothing remained of you except your upper body.

Below your chest was a horrifying mess of human destruction — blood, guts, and pieces of bone and flesh from body parts he could no longer identify.

Satoru’s entire body trembled violently. How . . . just how the hell could a sorcerer kill someone so brutally?

He’d figure out who did this to you. He’d kill them too. He’d make it fucking hurt. He’d-

His eyes caught sight of the familiar white bag in your grasp. Splotches of blood coated the smiling orange goldfish on the front of the snack bag. You were holding it against your chest, and unfortunately, your childhood friend knew you all too well, and you weren’t looking to swallow one last handful of Goldfish crackers moments before your death.

Satoru crouched down beside what could not even be considered half of your body.

When teardrops splattered on the scarred skin of your arm, only then did he realize he had been crying.

He had to yank your lifeless hand away from the bag as gently as he could. There was nothing on it when he turned it over in his palms, but when he opened the top and peered inside, there was a folded piece of paper.

He didn’t want to read it.

He wanted you to be here.

Brimming hot, angry tears blurred his vision, but he pulled the letter out of the bag, unfolded it with shaky hands he couldn’t wait to wrap around someone’s neck, and he read your final words.

Dear Toru,

Sorcerers are surrounding the house. It’s only a matter of time before they come inside and find me, so I apologize for my messy handwriting. I’m trying to write fast.

I could fight back, and maybe, just maybe, I’d win and I could find you and we could run away together, but you mentioned that you had students and friends who were also sorcerers, and for all I know, they could be the ones who are here right now. I won’t kill anyone who might be important to you.

I can hear someone outside arguing for me to be arrested rather than killed. He sounds young…a naive teenage boy, maybe. I appreciate him.

Satoru, you asked me why I killed four people today. Well, I did it to avenge my parents. After all these years, I found the group of bastards who murdered them. Now you know. I didn’t want you to spend the rest of your life wondering.

I’m sorry about this. I really am. We found each other again, and we have to say goodbye already. It sucks. It isn’t fair.

Please, don’t try to avenge me. Don’t ruin your life for me. I’m not worth it.

I can hear them coming to the front door, so I should wrap this up. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid to die. I’m scared. I’m alone.

I love you, ‘Toru.

Sincerely, your “wife” (remember that?) & childhood friend

Satoru folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket, or, at least, he thought he did. He no longer felt in control of his own movements. He wasn’t certain if he was moving at all. Or blinking. Or breathing.

But he was.

He moved your head onto his lap, trying to gently scrape away the flakes of dried blood on your face. Satoru couldn’t speak — grief had snatched his voice away — but even if uttering a few words was a possibility, he wasn’t certain he could make the promise of respecting your dying wish to not seek vengeance.

All he could do was lean forward and plant a kiss on your forehead. Then, he ran his fingertips across your eyelids, closing your lifeless eyes, which the moonlight still shined upon.

🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @kxmorrx @iwanttohitmyself @ellaumbrella1 @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz

[hcneymooners]

⋆ do you love me enough that i may be weak with you?

caitlyn x morally ambiguous!fem!reader x ambessa. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you are in competition with caitlyn for ambessa’s attention. you will follow her, to whatever end. no one draws you in like ambessa does. or so you tell yourself, even as caitlyn's lingering gaze makes your heart stutter. she’s almost desperate to be friends, but you don’t trust that girl by any means. to entertain her is to enable weakness. but, then again, have you ever truly been strong?

cw: a lot wow. age gap, older woman/younger woman, you're the youngest but in your twenties, canon divergence au, toxic relationships, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, power dynamics, impact play, body worship, dirty talk, bdsm dynamics, sub!reader, brat!reader, dom!caitlyn, dom!ambessa, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tribbing, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, face-riding, slightly dub-con in some parts, kissing, so much kissing, non-sexual intimacy, shower sex, hate sex (but is it really), sexual punishment, implied mental health issues, implied manipulation, you are all up to no good, polyam but is it really we'll see, caitbessa is not in love but they use each other, slight violence (fighting, training, & reader is hurt though not by caitbessa.), enemies to lover, rivals to lovers, slightly dark but not too much, guys i even wrote this properly no lowercase.

wc: 10.03k

soundtrack: give up - fka twigs, careless - fka twigs ft. daniel ceaser, holy terrain - fka twins, your girl - lana del rey (unreleased), & oh my angel - bertha tilman. order is intentional.

notes: this was supposed to be 7k. i need to be locked up. dedicated especially to @megalomaniacz for being the beautiful mind behind the caitbessa note that started it all. definitely one of my favorite things i've ever written.

A COIN’S FIRST SIDE. — CAITLYN.

​​You do not understand her incessant need to look at you.

The day has broken dark and cold. Your body aches with the rigor of being destroyed and depleted timelessly by Ambessa's experienced hands. It is only the three of you in the early morning - you, Caitlyn with her delicate bones wrapped perfectly in binding and sequestered underneath her uniform of buttery, dusky leather, and Ambessa with her arms bare, her face exposed by the careful braiding of her hair that reveals every subtle shift of expression.

It is this, over and over, until your body shudders into collapse. Yet—minute victory or sudden death—Caitlyn must look at you. Even when it's her turn, with her arched back pressed hard into the textured bamboo of the mat, her face crushed against the hollow of Ambessa's palm, she is looking at you. Those eyes, relentless and searching, track your every movement. It drives you utterly insane.

The weight of her gaze feels like another opponent entirely, separate from Ambessa's ruthless instruction. You tell yourself it's determination that keeps you standing, keeps you coming back day after day to this dance of dominance and submission. But there's something else, something in the way Caitlyn's breath catches when Ambessa's fingers ghost over that perfectly formed bruise on her collarbone—the one you gave her yesterday. Something in the way Ambessa's eyes darken when she notices you noticing.

You leave it. You cannot think of it.

Yet it follows you from the training grounds, through the winding corridors where shadows pool like old bruises. Back to the quarters you share with her, where even the air feels thick with unspoken things. It follows you. 

Caitlyn's presence fills every corner of the space you're forced to call home, from the precise way she arranges her rifle components to the lingering scent of gunpowder and leather that clings to her sheets. You are aware of that incessant staring, of the way her eyes rove over your naked chest; your small breasts are cupped dutifully in your hands as you unwrap yourself with a harsh breath.

Teacup tits, she'd called them when she’d once had you pinned against the wooden floor. It had been a day without mats; a day of endless testing. She had leaned in close, teeth gleaming like jewels as she held your stomach down with her hips. She had been sitting on you, and you had floundered then froze at the comments. You didn’t know she could be so brazen, so dirty-mouthed. This follows you too.

You've learned to move around her—around each other—in careful orbit. You are like twin moons, two violent girls with cheeks pressed against each other in the night, caught in some larger gravity - Ambessa's gravity - never touching but always aware. Always watching. 

The way she strips her gloves off finger by finger after training makes your teeth clench. You tell yourself it's irritation, not fascination when she unwinds the bindings from her own chest with methodical precision. Tell yourself you don't notice how the morning's wounds are already blooming across her shoulders, masterpieces in indigo and blue that match the ones Ambessa left on you last week—it doesn’t make it less true.

And Ambessa—sometimes you catch Ambessa watching too. The way her eyes linger on Caitlyn's throat, on the marks her own hands left there. It sparks something warm and dangerous in your gut - not envy, you insist. Never envy. Just hunger, the same hunger that drives you to push harder, to prove yourself worthy of Ambessa's attention, maybe both of your intentions. To prove you're stronger than whatever weakness Caitlyn stirs in you with her endless watching.

But later the envy cannot help but be itself, and you retch into your hands and sink from the vibrations of your anger. You do not trust her. You’ve seen her with that girl, the reckless pink-haired one, and she knows that you’ve seen her. But you are keeping this secret for reasons you don’t understand.

And in the dead of night, when sleep eludes you, you hear Caitlyn's breathing change rhythm across the room. You wonder if she lies awake thinking of the way Ambessa's fingers traced that lesion on her hip today, the one that matched the shape of your knuckles perfectly. Wonder if she knows you're awake too, caught in this web of wanting that none of you dare name. 

🕸

She is desperate for you, in a way that you do not understand. It is easier when she is quiet about it. 

There is an evening where she is loud—where everything is loud—and it rattles you. There is an incessant buzzing, maybe cicadas, and in the beginning, you are enjoying it because it reminds you of home and the way your feet fall into wet earth in the heart of the warm season. But then slowly, you begin to lose your mind and the buzzing is in your teeth and you now feel slightly detached from the world and your body is nothing but heat and you are almost lapping at the screen between the open dormitory window and the world and—

You crawl out of bed. You wear nothing but a sleep shirt two sizes too big, the chest open so that your sweat-laden skin gleams like a body of water. It belongs to Ambessa but it was your father's first until she swallowed your homeland and stole you away. You took it back and she said nothing. Maybe she was impressed with the voracity with which you bit and scratched her in the dark, massive cave of her bedroom.

So, yes, you crawl out of bed. You are swamped in ivory fabric and you drag your feet as you roam the halls. There is movement and it scares you, but you muzzle your mouth with your hand so that your scream dies between your teeth. It's only another guard. You keep moving.

Now, you are in the kitchen. You rummage through spaces until your fingers alight on the thick sphere of a pomegranate. You yank and now it is yours; hard and red in your hands. You turn, and she's there.

Caitlyn moves like water in the dark, all fluid grace even in her own sleep clothes. Her eyes catch the moonlight streaming through the high windows, turning them to pale fire. You clutch the pomegranate tighter, your nails breaking the skin. Juice runs down your wrist.

"Let me," she says, and she's closer now, close enough that you can see the light sheen of sweat on her collarbones. It satisfies you that she is warm too, that she is touchable. Her fingers brush yours as she takes the fruit, and you let her only because you're transfixed by the way she reaches for the small cheese knife on the counter, the way she tests its edge with her thumb. You hope for blood but there is none.

You don't remember moving, but suddenly you're against each other, a dance of hands and breath and barely-contained violence. She pushes, you pull. You spin her toward the table, but she turns it, uses your momentum to send you both sprawling across its surface. Your back cracks against the stone like a bone. Her face crumples momentarily at the sound of your pain, but then she is herself again. The pomegranate rolls away, forgotten until it isn't.

You think of another table, a wooden one from when you were younger. You think of hiding beneath the heavy oak with her, your breaths shallow and hushed as you press close to her side. You were younger then, small enough to fit between her knees, your hands gripping hers like a lifeline. Above, Ambessa’s boots thundered across the floor, her sharp commands reverberating through the room.

“Where are you?” she’d barked, voice like a stone through a window.

But Caitlyn had only grinned, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t breathe."

It's different now. You no longer fit.

She lands on top of you when you hit the floor, pinning you with her hips. The knife glints in her hand, but she just smiles, that same smile from the training mat, the one that makes your stomach clench with disgust and desi—no. She reaches for the pomegranate, and you watch, breathless, as she begins to peel it with delicate precision.

"I'll show you how," she murmurs, and then she's leaning down, pressing her mouth to yours with bruising force. Her teeth catch your lip, and you taste copper, sharp, and sweet like pomegranate juice. When she pulls back, your blood is dark on her mouth, and she licks it away like it's nothing, like this is nothing, continuing to peel the fruit with steady hands.

You buck your hips and she sets the knife down, next to your wrists where your veins gather and bulge like snakes. She holds you down with her core, and you can feel the heat between her legs. There is a moment where you freeze, and she smiles with delight. You buck again and she slams you back down, using a hand around your throat to keep you beneath her like a lamb. Her other hand comes up—the knife, you think in fear—and loiters against herself. Then it moves down, quick and smooth, to raise her slip of a nightgown and bare her creamy thighs. She shifts so that she is atop your stomach, and pushes the shirt up until it’s beneath your breasts. 

She isn’t wearing undergarments, or maybe she is. Maybe they are just thin. Either way, you can feel her against the skin of your belly, warm and weeping. You still aren’t moving, but you are slicking in return. You want to bite her, dig until she releases some sort of sound. 

Then there is a sound - a sharp intake of breath - and you both turn. 

Ambessa stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable in the darkness. For a moment, she watches, her head tilted like she's solving a puzzle. You look back at Caitlyn—who seems unrepentant about her half-nakedness. You put it together, the idea that they have seen one another like this before. The envy is riotous. You ache to kiss Caitlyn again if only to vomit in her mouth. 

It’s as if she knows and so she leans in, holds the side of your head as she feeds you pomegranate seeds from the cavern of her own mouth. Eventually, she is no longer feeding, only taking. She presses harder and harder until you let out a yelp of discomfort. It feels, if you aren’t mistaken, like a claim. 

Ambessa gazes at the two of you for a moment longer, then she turns away. Her footsteps echo down the hall, leaving you with the taste of blood and fruit and Caitlyn's smile against your mouth. 

You regain your strength; you throw her off. 

🕸

You don't sleep. 

Your body vibrates with fury, with want, with the phantom press of her against your stomach. The dawn breaks grey and sullen through the window, and when you dress for training, you notice Caitlyn watching you again. But it's different now - you see the tremor in her hands, the way she swallows when you bend to lace your boots.

The training grounds are empty. No Ambessa. The message is as clear as a blade against the skin, and you want to scream. Instead, you strip and step into the shower block, letting scalding water pound against your shoulders. You hear the door open, close. Her footsteps on the tile.

"Don't," you say, but your voice lacks conviction. You're too tired to maintain the walls between you.

"You think she's punishing us." Caitlyn's voice is closer now. You hear fabric hitting the floor. "She's not. She's giving us space."

You turn, ready to snarl, but the sight of her stops you. She's different in daylight - less predator, more girl. There are shadows under her eyes that match your own. Water beads on her collarbone where last night's sweat had gleamed.

“Get away from me.” She doesn’t. You try again. “Space for what?” 

The question comes out raw.

She steps under the spray with you, and you don't stop her. You watch the way the water falls over her, the spread of the moisture against her staunch skin. She is so angular, so prismatic. You feel as if the world refracts off of her. The water is running cold, so her breasts are erect and straining toward you. You think of drinking from them, more the effort of it, of the space between them where your mouth would fit.

"For this," she says but doesn't touch you. "For whatever this is. I'm tired of watching you pretend you don't feel it too."

"You don't know what I feel."

“I think you are a lonely creature.”

The heat between you evaporates like ash against the wind. Your mouth twists, and she steps toward you. She understands she has misrepresented herself and her intentions. You feel a familiar prickling. Tears. 

“Is this how you see me? A cowardly animal?” Your voice is flat, and she balks with her hands flexing nervously against her thighs.

“No. No. I only meant—if anything we are both animals. We have been trained as such at least.”

“You aren’t making this better for yourself,” you say, turning away. “And you don’t know me in any way.”

"I know you taste like pomegranates." 

You turn back to look at her, incredulous. “I had just eaten one, you little fool.”

“I know you let me kiss you before you threw me off.” Her smile is small, almost sad. “I know you've been keeping my secret about Vi.”

The name hits like a slap. You rise to the bait. 

"Why her?"

"Why Ambessa?"

You have no answer for that. The water runs between you, and for once, you let yourself really look at her. At the desperation in her eyes, the way she’s holding herself like she's afraid you'll bolt. Maybe you've both been hungry for the same thing all along.

Still, it eats at you. This odd way she is pretending to be meek and mild. She is soft in the same ways you are, with the same dips in her hips and calluses along her palm. You think of the panther-like movements of her muscles as she readies a shot. 

Something gathers underneath your tongue, and suddenly you are wailing. Loud and long. You rush at her, but she is waiting for you. She dips, and rams into your stomach as she flips you onto the tile. Though she is fighting back, she’s careful with you. Your head is cupped by her limber fingers as she sends you down. 

You kick and catch your foot on her side. With a gasp, she’s down too, but a hand still manages to grip at the fine bones of your ankle and yank. It hurts, and you make a terrible noise. She releases you as if you’ve burned her, and you twist to get out from underneath her. 

You’re on your belly now, flopping like a fish, but she makes you stay. She wrestles you up so that your back is bent as you press against her chest. You feel her fingers crawl like spider legs down your chest. She fondles, gropes, your tits. She is starved and erratic, pinching your nipples until they are standing on their own. 

Your skin is slippery with soap, so Caitlyn digs her nails in for grip. Then the action stops and her hand descends into the apex of your thighs. You try to jerk, try to send her off but she knows this now. She is understanding. That’s even worse.

She holds you, exactly as you need, and gets two fingers inside of your cunt. She curves them, tries to pull you inside out. You let out another noise, but it is less terrible. She works at you until you cannot remember language, only a deep animalistic noise of ‘uh uh uh’, a rhythm. Her thumb swipes against your clit and you’re there, the pleasure like a blinding fire.

You still try to leave her; you try to crawl. She rolls you over and bullies herself in between your legs until she can place her cheek along your heaving stomach. You begin to cry. You’re unsure why, but maybe Caitlyn knows because she only strokes your inner thigh to soothe you. She looks up at you, hair black with water.

“It can be like this, always. You only need to—”

You shove her and scramble back until you’re sitting on your own. She still watches you, cheek to the tile now.

“No conditions,” she says, reworking her words. “Only us.”

You close your eyes and see pink. You open them and think of your general.

“There will always be her.”

Neither of you knows which woman you’re speaking of.

A COIN’S SECOND SIDE. — AMBESSA.

Sleep does not come that night either. You only try because when there is no session to distract it, your body aches for a bed.

You lie awake, counting the beats between Caitlyn's breaths across the room, replaying the way her cheek pressed against your belly, her lips ghosting over skin as she spoke. The way she looked at you like you were something both precious and perilous, desired and dangerous all at once. Your body still aches from her attention.

A sound draws you from your thoughts - the soft click of your dormitory door. Through barely-opened eyes, you watch Caitlyn rise like a phantom, pulling on a robe. She doesn't look back as she slips out. 

Your feet are moving before your mind catches up.

You follow her through corridors you know by heart, the same path you took for that damned pomegranate. But she goes deeper, down halls you've never dared explore. When she stops at a familiar door—Ambessa's door—your heart clenches.

They speak in whispers you can't quite catch, but you see the way Ambessa's hand cups Caitlyn's face, the way Caitlyn leans into it like a cat being stroked. Your stomach twists violently. But then:

"She's ready," Caitlyn says, just loud enough, still soft. "She just doesn't know it yet."

Ambessa's laugh is low, rich like honey. "Oh, little one. She's been ready since I took her. We're just waiting for her to admit it."

You don't stay to hear more. But in the morning, when the summons comes—delivered by a guard who won't meet your eyes—you know they were expecting this too. They've been moving you like a piece on a board, and only now do you see the game.

You go anyway. You always do.

You press your lips together to avoid commenting on the way they stand separately like this will erase what you overheard yesterday. Ambessa stands at the center of the room, her presence devouring the light. It bends around her, as though the universe itself cannot decide whether to confront or flee her. Caitlyn is there too, poised and watchful, her gaze darting toward you and away again.

You look at her with an apathy you designed to get you through burning cities and crumbling countries. You wear your mother’s jewelry today: a septum ring with delicate chains of gold stretching across your cheeks, glinting over your ears. Ambessa’s eyes catch on it, a flicker of distaste passing over her face. Your fingers twitch, but you don’t remove it.

Caitlyn moves toward you, her steps tentative. You step back, forcing her to stop and speak first. Always assume power. This is what they have taught you.

“Do you find it fun,” you ask, head tilting, “to be careless with me?”

Caitlyn halts, her expression caught between guilt and something softer. Regret, maybe. This may be your delusion. Ambessa remains impassive, her gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

“Little one,” she begins, the shared nickname making you flinch. “You should be grateful. I’ve only eased you into a better space. This insipid competition for my attention is draining. I need my best soldiers to remain the best, to work with one another fluently.”

“You’ve been awful to me,” you say, your voice directed at Ambessa but your eyes locked on Caitlyn.

The mask you wear shifts, and you let your anger surface. 

“Do not call me her name. I’m nothing like her.”

Ambessa’s expression betrays a flicker of disagreement, but she inclines her head, a mockery of deference. “As you wish, little one. What do you think, Cait? Do you agree?”

The nickname hits like a physical blow. Ambessa smiles wickedly. Cait. You used to call her that, back when you were little girls, not yet twisted. You saw her as some kind of beautiful flower, one that had learned to tremble tall amongst the trees.

“You could have spoken to me,” you say finally, your voice sharper now. “You didn’t need this...elaborate scheme of seduction.”

“Love is a good enforcer,” Ambessa says, her tone rich with amusement.

“You wouldn’t know love if it spat in your face,” you snap.

The room freezes. Caitlyn stiffens, but Ambessa’s expression darkens, her presence swelling like a storm. You meet her gaze, unflinching.

“Get out,” she says, her voice quiet but deadly.

Caitlyn hesitates, her body angling toward you as though to shield you. Her hands twitch, almost childlike in their uncertainty. “She’s only angry. Let me—”

“Get out,” Ambessa repeats, her tone slicing through the air.

Caitlyn turns to you, desperation softening her features. “Listen to me,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “I meant it. All of it. With you. I only—”

You think of the evening before. Your throat works until you have something to say; your hand moves before you can think, shoving her back. The memory of her warmth lingers on your palm like a curse. You try to lose it. 

“Get out,” you whisper. 

She stumbles, her expression crumpling into something fragile. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay cold, and distant. Caitlyn hesitates for a heartbeat longer, but then she turns to leave. 

“You always try so hard to be good,” you push out. 

She pauses, remains facing away from you.

“I meant it,” she says again. “With you.”

She goes, the door clicking shut behind her.

Ambessa doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. The silence between you is a battlefield, and you know you are primed to lose.

“Do you want to have me to yourself, or do you only wish to be my favorite?”

The question surprises you. However, you shouldn’t be surprised by anything Ambessa does. Her voice is calm, and measured, but it holds a challenge. There waits a quiet dare for you to step into the space she’s carved out for you.  

Your throat tightens, words lodging there like a trap. You hate the way your body reacts to her—the warmth that spreads under your skin, the treacherous pull of her presence. It disgusts you. It thrills you. You feel weak.

“I don’t want either,” you say, though the answer feels thin. A lie.  

Ambessa’s mouth curves into something sharp, more predator than a smile. “Liar.”  

Your hands clench at your sides. “I refuse to play this game, least of all with you.”  

“Oh, but you are, little one.” She takes a step closer, the sound of her boots deliberate, echoing in the cavernous space between you. “You’ve been playing since the day you first looked at me with that fire in your eyes. When I took you away.”

She clarifies as if you can’t quite recall. It grates at your nerves.

“You hate me, and yet you can’t help but ache for me. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”  

Your pulse quickens, the air between you crackling with tension. You hold her gaze, refusing to look away, even as heat rises in your cheeks.  

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the words lack conviction.  

Ambessa tilts her head, her gaze dragging over you in a way that feels invasive, consuming. “I don’t need to flatter myself. I see you. At first, I thought you might take after me in a way meant to replace your mother.”

She reaches forward, fingers the cold along the ridge of your cheekbones. 

“I see the way you tremble when I’m near, the way your apathy tastes so much like desire,” she continues.

She steps closer, and you step back instinctively, your spine meeting the cold stone wall behind you. You hate how small you feel under her gaze, how she makes the air around you feel heavier, suffocating.  

“You’ve used me,” you bite out, your voice shaking but firm. “You’ve used Caitlyn, too. You pit us against each other like we’re pawns on your board. Is that all we are to you?”  

Ambessa’s expression doesn’t falter, but something flickers in her eyes, something unreadable. “You’re more than that, but useful as pawns when it’s needed. Both of you. But you’re still mine.”  

Her hand moves, slow and deliberate, until her fingers brush your jaw. The touch is barely there, a whisper against your skin, but it sets every nerve alight.  

“You hate it so much when we touch you,” she says softly, her voice a low rumble. “But it’s that hate that keeps you sharp. That’s why I keep you close. Why we—I— can’t let you go.”  

You want to pull away, to spit something venomous, to remind her that you’re not some plaything for her amusement. But you don’t move. You don’t speak. You can’t.  

“Caitlyn wants your approval,” Ambessa continues, her thumb grazing the corner of your mouth now. “She craves it. But you... you want something deeper, don’t you? Something darker.”  

You flinch.

“I want nothing from you.”  

Ambessa leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Then why are you still here?”  

“Because you summoned me.”  

“Because you wanted to come,” she counters, her voice soft but unyielding.  

You try to defend yourself, but she’s moved past this now. Instead, her hands come to the bend of your hips and lift you with an easy effort that makes your legs widen around the bulk of her body. With quick steps she moves you to the chaise just off to the side of the room, sitting you on top of it. The world is blurring; she is moving too quickly for you to dispute.

Ambessa’s hands are firm as she strips you bare and traces the shape of you. Like Caitlyn—or maybe Caitlyn, like her—she cups a tit in her large hand and squeezes. This version of it is more painful, different from its softer sister movement in the shower. 

She leans forward, opens her mouth, and swallows that loose circle of fat. You arch into the heat of her lips, moan low and reedy as she suckles at your nipple. Her teeth trap bits of skin between them, marking you purposefully. She pulls off and takes your other breast inside of her again to be teased and tainted by her bruises.

You rock gently, chasing the feeling. This time when Ambessa’s mouth leaves you, she presses your tits together and appraises them. 

“She said this was one of her favorite parts of you.” When she finds your confused gaze, Ambessa smiles. “Cait.”

You tense at that, and she chuckles. The sound infuriates you. Still, you do nothing as she sinks lower, her breath approaching the swollen pearl of your clit. Without a word she latches on to you, lapping idly at you as if you aren’t already dripping down her chin. She holds you as your body stutters, pleasure arcing through you like thousands of arrows. 

Ambessa is measured in this too. She sucks your folds into her mouth, laps at you carefully as she grips your ass. She makes you ride her, clit bumping against her strong nose as you follow her instruction. She draws back from you once, only to spread you apart and spit crudely into your cunt. She watches it travel down your slit, slicking you with her saliva, then she spits again and pushes it in with a finger.

Before she continues she glances at you and gives you another order.

“Say her name.”

You say nothing, mind racing. She slaps your ass, hard.

“Say her name. As you used to.”

You understand now. Again, you ride her tongue but when your mouth opens it is not her name that you say.

“Cait,” you moan, legs falling open even wider.

Ambessa adjusts you, slings your legs over her wide shoulders as she consumes you. She shakes her head, burying herself in your cunt as she leads you over the edge. Over and over, she laps at you until you’re panting hard like you would when sparring. This is sparring in another form.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuuck, Cait. Please.”

“Mmhmm,” Ambessa hums over your clit, and that’s the end of it for you.

You let out a sharp, shrill scream and attempt to bow over yourself with the strength of your orgasms. Ambessa refuses to let you, forcing you back and keeping your legs spread so that she can watch your cunt flutter wildly as you cum. 

“There you go,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” you answer, dazed and nonsensical.

Your pussy spasms, pink and oozing juices like a wound. Your thighs strain with the stretch of remaining open. You think of the shower floor.

“Caitlyn,” you gaps. You can’t stop pulsing. “Yes. Fuck, Cait.”

There’s a thud outside, against the door as if someone has fallen.

Ambessa removes her hands. The silence stretches between you, taut and electric. Finally, you find your voice, though it’s hoarse and trembling. 

“If you think I’ll ever belong to you, you’re wrong.”  

Ambessa’s smile returns, wicked and knowing. 

“You are brave, but you already do, little one. You just haven’t admitted it yet. What do you think we speak of waiting for?”

The absence of her touch feels colder than it should. She steps back, giving you space, but her gaze remains heavy on you, a reminder that you are never truly free of her.  

“Go,” she says, her tone dismissive. “Think about what you want. And when you’re ready to admit it, you know where to find me.”  

You don’t wait for her to say more. You rise and make to leave, hands grappling over your clothes. You feel discombobulated like a puppet with its strings cut. You only manage to slide your shirt back over your head and it dusts the tops of your thighs.

Ambessa only watches your struggle. You hate her. You want her. You don’t know where one feeling ends and the other begins.  

You tug the door open and step back as Caitlyn spills back against the floor, hand still between her thighs and shining with her own pleasure. Her chest is heaving, her skin pink with the rush of lust and physical exertion. Her legs splay beneath her like a doll’s. 

She pulls her fingers out with a wet ‘schleck’ and tucks them into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she looks up at you—unashamed. You say nothing, only bend down and tug her fingers from her mouth. You put them in your own.

THE COIN, FACE DOWN. — CAITBESSA.

The dormitory is devoid of you. Caitlyn is unsurprised.  

You are unused to being touched. You don’t know how to be wanted. 

Still, she worries. More accurately, she spirals. The ache of your absence gnaws at her in the quiet moments, like a phantom limb she can’t stop reaching for. She doesn’t know where you’ve gone. 

Ambessa is losing herself too, albeit in a different way. Caitlyn wonders if she has ever truly lost something before.  

The world continues to turn. They train, a familiar ritual that feels increasingly hollow. Their strikes are sharper now, their parries more reckless. Ambessa’s movements carry an edge Caitlyn hasn’t seen before, a fury barely leashed. She fights like she’s trying to exorcise something, and Caitlyn is often the target of that rage.  

A blow to her stomach knocks the wind out of her. A strike to her face nearly cracks her jaw. Caitlyn knows better than to show weakness, so she grits her teeth and pushes back, delivering her own brutality in return. She delivers as well as she receives. 

She kicks Ambessa in the mouth once, the impact jarring up the toned meat of her leg. The older woman’s lip splits, blood dripping down her chin, but she doesn’t flinch. In response, Ambessa hurls Caitlyn into the corner of the room. She skids across the mat, hitting the wall with enough force to rattle her bones.

Ambessa isn’t looking at her, stays crouched on the mat with her hand pressed to her mouth. Caitlyn struggles upward, sliding to rest against the wall. The fight had been nothing more than an outlet, and Caitlyn, nothing more than a tool.  Caitlyn struggles to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall. The guards in the room avoid looking at them, the air too charged, too dangerous. 

Something simmers in Caitlyn’s stomach, a volatile mixture of anger, frustration, and something softer she doesn’t want to name. She refuses to puncture it, afraid of what might spill out. She is already suffering enough, diseased with the spores of her affection for you. 

And Ambessa.  

The thought churns in her mind, dark and poisonous. Ambessa has become an obsession she doesn’t want to admit to, a shadow that looms too large since that moment in the room. Caitlyn hates her, resents her, envies her. She knows what you taste like, what you’d like. She too has been inside you. Caitlyn now has nothing; they are disgustingly equal.

 But beneath it all, she respects her. And that’s what makes it worse.  

When Caitlyn finally speaks, her voice is strained, biting. “Do you always break your toys this quickly, or am I just special?”  

Ambessa’s gaze finally lifts, sharp and cutting. She wipes the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and smiles, a malignant curve that doesn’t reach her eyes.  

“Special?” she echoes, rising to her full height. “You think too highly of yourself, Cait. You’re simply better than most.”  

The nickname grates, a reminder of the intimacy they share now—unwanted, unavoidable, tangled in you. Caitlyn clenches her fists. “Don’t call me that.”  

Ambessa takes a step closer, her presence suffocating, magnetic. “You’ve been insufferable since she left,” she says, voice low and dangerous. “Do you think I don’t see it? You miss her like a dog misses its master.”  

“And you don’t?” Caitlyn fires back, the words cutting deeper than she intended.  

Ambessa’s expression darkens, and for a moment, Caitlyn wonders if she’s gone too far. But then the older woman smirks, cruel and knowing. 

“I miss her,” Ambessa admits, her tone a blade. “But not like you do. You ache for her because she is a twin to your pain, a foil to my approval. I ache for her because she belongs to me.”  

The words twist in Caitlyn’s chest, sharp and unbearable. “She doesn’t belong to anyone,” she snaps.  

Ambessa chuckles a low, bitter sound. “You’re wrong. [Name] belongs to both of us, and that’s why you hate me.”

Caitlyn’s breath catches, and she doesn’t deny it.  

Without you, they writhe like snakes, their weight pulling them into collision after collision. The mouth of the snake swallows the tail. The hatred between them is palpable, a toxic undercurrent that fuels their every interaction. And yet, when the nights grow long and the ache of your absence becomes unbearable, they find themselves drawn together.  

It’s not love, not even close. It’s desperation, a way to drown the pit you’ve left behind. Their intimacy is suffocating, a visceral reminder of everything they can’t have. 

When Caitlyn’s nails dig into Ambessa’s back, it’s not out of affection but frustration. When Ambessa’s teeth scrape Caitlyn’s collarbone, it’s not passion but punishment. They use each other because they can’t have you. After all, the emptiness you left is too much to bear alone.  

It’s never enough, no matter how fierce. Because they don’t want each other.

They want you.

Still, they try.

🕸

Again, the shower. 

They’re slightly cruel to one another. It fuels the high. 

Caitlyn snaps back to the moment as Ambessa needles a nail into the mottled skin beneath her shoulder blade, where a bruise sits thick and spreading. She hisses in pain, tits pressing further against Ambessa’s own. There are three thick fingers in her pussy and they fuck her in the way she needs. 

Despite the embarrassment, she lets her head fall onto Ambessa’s wide shoulders as she chases her orgasm. Her cunt is like water, dribbling down Ambessa’s wrist as she carves Caitlyn out. Again, a nail presses into the bruise. 

The motion is harsher this time around and Caitlyn cries out, throwing her head back so that her hair brushes the middle of her spine. Ambessa continues to toy with this patch of marred skin, teeth clamping on the wide skin of Caitlyn’s neck as the younger woman twists and shudders around her. 

“Good fucking girl,” Ambessa mutters, fucking her faster.

Caitlyn bounces to meet her, slamming herself down until her belly tightens and roars. Ambessa lifts her further, suctions her mouth around one of her perky tits, and digs deeper into the pink tight nature of her. Caitlyn roots a hand in her hair and slides the other down her body to collect pieces of that foamy, white ring gathering around Ambessa’s hand.

Slick with herself, she rubs tight, quick circles around Ambessa’s clit. The older woman’s cunt is large, folds heavy and leaking. Caitlyn feels her tremble and she moves faster, breath coming fast as the spray of the water slides down the crack of her ass.

With a muffled grunt, Ambessa cums. As she does, she bites deeply into the meager flesh of Caitlyn’s collarbone. Caitlyn whites out, eyes rolling back briefly so that she’s swaying and focusing on a blurred ceiling. Their orgasms warp and connect; they refuse to stop touching one another as if it will keep reality at bay.

The comedown is almost irritating, and in a frenzy, Caitlyn clutches Ambessa to her chest. This does nothing. 

She kisses Ambessa feverishly, practically mauling her, because the echo of your cunt is on her lips. Ambessa holds her, returns the kiss, then breaks it. 

“No matter how hard we try, she is not here.”

Caitlyn closes her eyes and her face pinches in pain.

“And where is she? Gone, and you are doing nothing to find her.” 

This close, Caitlyn can see Ambessa’s face twitch and melt into something revealing. Something rocks through her at the sight and she detangles their bodies.

“You cannot find her.”

The statement is accusatory, so much so that Ambessa surrenders and turns away. She shuts off the water; Caitlyn remains shivering. 

THE COIN, POCKETED. — YOU.

Your mouth tastes like metal and smoke. The streets of Zaun pulse beneath your feet, virulent and alive, and you can barely remember how many days it's been since you left them. Since you left her. Them.

You've gotten yourself into trouble - the kind Ambessa would have prevented, the kind Caitlyn would have shot through. Blood trickles down your side from where the knife caught you, and your vision swims with chemical fumes and exhaustion. You don't know where you're going anymore, just that you're going.

The world tilts sideways. You stumble and catch yourself against a wall slick with condensation. A familiar laugh echoes from somewhere above - it stops your heart, then starts it again too fast. You know that laugh.

When you look up, they're there on one of the suspended walkways - Caitlyn and that pink-haired girl, Vi. They haven't seen you yet. Vi has her hand on Caitlyn's waist, casual, proprietary. Something in you breaks and mends and breaks again.

Then Caitlyn turns her head, and her eyes find yours like they always have. The world stops. You try to run—you always try to run—but your legs give out. You thud to the ground. Mind heavy. Heart heavy. 

You hate her more than anything else in the world. You wish that was true.

You hear the clatter of boots on metal as she descends, and then she's there, gathering you up as if she hadn’t been entangled a moment before. She hooks a hand into your hair, and claws you into looking at her as she squeezes your face hard. Something inside of you understands that the action isn’t intentional, not this time.

She bends, hair falling from her hurried bun, and swallows you—grime and all. Her kiss tastes devastating and strains with relief, and you're too weak to fight it anymore. You push back, this time into her, and force her to hold you. She squeezes you tighter, moaning almost obscenely as she relapses and languishes in your feel, in your taste. 

Here is her sweet girl. Her sweet fucking girl. 

“Cait,” you moan.

She pulls away and strokes your baby hairs away from your forehead as you let out a feeble, wounded noise.

"Vi," she says, not looking away from your face, "help me. I need to get her back to Ambessa."

"This is your runaway?" Vi's voice is rough, knowing. "The one you've been tearing yourself up over?"

Caitlyn's hands tighten on your arms. "It's important for the mission that we-"

"Save it, Cupcake." Vi's laugh is different now, sadder. "I know what love looks like on you."

That training, that beloved animal comes back in full force, and Caitlyn looks up from beneath her lashes. Her face contorts and it’s the strangest she’s ever seemed to Vi. She reaches up, hooks a hand around Vi’s jaw, and drags her down. 

“Get it together, Violet. This is not your moment.”

Vi blinks at her, equal parts disturbed and titulated. Caitlyn lets her go, places that same hand on the peek of skin between the hem of your shirt and your linen pants. Why would you ever wear linen when running away? She looks back up again, traces Vi’s expression—analyzes it.

“I can love you both. I’ve done it before.”

Vi's laugh catches in her throat. You watch through half-lidded eyes as something passes between them— understanding, maybe. Or resignation. Your blood is making patterns on the ground.

"Fine," Vi says, and then she's lifting you like you weigh nothing, careful of your wound. "But if this gets me killed, I'm haunting you both."

“If she dies because of our procrastinating, I’ll do something worse than haunting,” Caitlyn snaps.

Caitlyn's hand doesn't leave your skin as you move through the undercity. You drift in and out of consciousness, catching fragments: Vi muttering about shortcuts, Caitlyn's fingers pressing against your pulse, the way they work together like they've done this before. They probably have.

"Stay with me," Caitlyn keeps saying, and you're not sure if she means now or forever. Maybe both. 

You think of Ambessa waiting, of how her hands will feel on your skin again, of how she'll look at you like you're something wild she's finally caught. You think of Caitlyn's desperation in the shower, that fucking shower and it’s cold water—of her mouth against your stomach. Of how they both break you apart and put you back together wrong.

"She's burning up," Vi says somewhere above you. Her voice sounds almost gentle.

"We're close." Caitlyn's voice shakes. "The extraction point is-"

"I know where it is." A pause. "You really love her that much?"

"More than is safe."

You want to tell her that nothing about any of you has ever been safe. Instead, you let the darkness drag you into its arms.

When you wake, you're in Ambessa's chambers. The sheets smell like her - lime and mango and earth. Caitlyn is curled against your side, her breath evening out against your neck. And there, in the doorway, Ambessa stands watching you both with hunger in her eyes.

"Welcome home, little one," she says, and steps inside.

THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.

Ambessa moves like smoke in the water. 

The room holds its breath as she approaches, and you feel Caitlyn's arm tighten across your middle—not protective, possessive. They don't look at each other. They never do. Their hunger is only for you.

"Did you think you could run from us?" Ambessa's voice is silk over steel, very careful in the moment. She sits on the edge of the bed, and the mattress dips with her weight. Her hand finds your ankle, thumb pressing into the hollow where your pulse beats rabbit-quick. "From me?"

You try to answer, but Caitlyn's mouth is suddenly on your neck, wet and wanting. She bites down, marking you, claiming you and Ambessa's grip tightens in response. They're going to tear you apart.

You realize, distantly, that you want them to.

"She's hurt," Caitlyn murmurs against your skin, but her teeth don't gentle. "We should-"

"We should punish her," Ambessa cuts in, and your body betrays you with a shiver. Her hand slides higher, past your knee. It makes you realize that you’re in nothing but a simple pair of baby blue cotton panties and a skimpy bra. Your tits spill out at the bottom. "Shouldn't we?"

Caitlyn makes a sound like drowning. Her fingers find the hem of your shirt and ghost over the bandaged wound at your side. "Yes," she breathes, and you feel yourself sinking, sinking. "But she's ours to punish."

"Ours," Ambessa agrees, and the word feels jagged.

You're losing yourself in them. A thought floats up through your hazy mind: that they refuse to acknowledge each other even as they work in tandem to break you down, to unmake you piece by piece. Their synchronized destruction should be beautiful to watch if you can remember how to open your eyes.

"Look at me," Ambessa commands and your body obeys before your mind can catch up. Her hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing against your lower lip. "She trembles so prettily for us, doesn't she?"

Caitlyn's answer is to drag her nails down your spine, making you arch into the touch. The pain blooms like ink in water, spreading out until you can't tell where it ends and pleasure begins. You're caught between them - Ambessa's unyielding strength and Caitlyn's desperate need - and you're not sure you want to escape.

"Tell us why you ran," Caitlyn whispers, but it's not really a question. Her fingers trace the edges of your bandages again, a reminder of what your foolish escape attempt cost you. "Tell us what you thought you'd find out there.”

"Freedom," you manage to gasp, and Ambessa's laugh is dark honey, sticky-sweet, and dangerous.

"Oh, little one." Her grip tightens, not quite painful. Not yet. "You're only free when I allow it."

She speaks only of herself, but you know the notion pertains to both of them. You know they're right. You've always known and it leaves something bitter in your mouth.  That's why you ran - not to escape them, but to make them chase you. To prove they would. To ensure they'd punish you when they caught you.

And now they have.

"Please," you breathe, though you're not sure what you're begging for. More? Mercy? Neither?

"Please what?" Caitlyn's voice has gone rough with her aching. Her teeth find your shoulder again, and you shudder. "Use your words."

But Ambessa's hand is sliding into your hair now, pulling your head back to expose your throat. "No," she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. "I don't think she gets to speak anymore tonight. I think she’ll bore me with her useless whining.”

The whimper that escapes you makes them both pause, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to feel their satisfaction ripple through the air like heat waves. You might die this way, you’re realizing. They may build you up one final time, only to slit your throat at the time of climax.

Ambessa is practically stone with her tempered fury, and Caitlyn is antsy with her need. You never realized how much you riled them in the same manner they did you. Ambessa goes on to say more, filling the silence with something sick and cruel but Caitlyn has had enough now. 

She lurches up, rolls you over so that she sits atop just like the night she first kissed you. The night where it all burst. There’s a moment where she has a hand on your chest, pushing down as if resuscitating you. You don’t understand it until you look down and see the way the pressure makes your breasts surge and spurt from underneath your bra. She pushes again and again and again until you’re taking halting, broken sips of air. Over and over, your tits spill until she grows crazed and snaps the fabric off of you.

Ambessa only watches, though you notice her thighs spreading. She looks soft, her hair unbraided and haloing her face. She wears nothing but a silk yellow robe which displays her figure lovingly. Your cunt grows warm, tender.

Catilyn taps your cheek, brings you back to her. You can’t remember if the button-down she wears is yours or Ambessa’s. Maybe both. You wince at her weight on your stomach and she moves up and over your face. 

There’s no time to prepare for the way she comes down on you, her groan thunderous as her pussy settles on your parted mouth. You fall into line, give her what she wants.

Still, you are to be punished, so she sits for a long while. Just smothers you. Occasionally she grinds, filling your nose with her musk. You can feel her soft curls around your lips, and you arch up as if to crawl inside of her skin. This gets her to move, a slow rocking that amps up as you settle into making out with her pouring pussy. 

You kiss her here, over and over, dragging your tongue into the affair until she’s riding you. Your tongue slips in and Caitlyn quivers with a whimper as she rides your face harder. You bring a hand up to hold her, to prevent her from slipping but she smacks it away. 

“No,” she pants. “No—oh, fuck me. Holy shiiiit.” She bounces liberally, selfishly. “No touching.”

Caitlyn leans forward, supporting herself as she fucks down on you with fervor. You’re so distracted with getting her to fill your throat with her pleasure that you mistakenly lose focus on where Ambessa is. Which is why the press of her cunt against your own absolutely blindsides you.

She’s climbed atop the bed during the desperate coupling between you and Caitlyn, removing your panties so that your pussy winks at her voraciously. True to her nature she decides to take, to conquer you. You grip Caitlyn tightly, so tightly that she squeals and cums at the pain. 

You forget to let go, buck wildly as she creams over your nose and chin. It settles on you like sugar; she takes a long finger and dips it in—soft and sweet. You suckle at the pad of it, taking the digit into your mouth and moaning around it as Ambessa slides your cunts together. 

You can’t tell if you are one body or three or three-in-one. You feel enmeshed in the both of them. Your blood is theirs; your cunt is theirs. Maybe it is less togetherness and more possession. Ambessa groans deeply as you gush against her, the squelch both loud and quiet. Caitlyn is now off to this side—this you know. She has her other fingers playing with herself, shifts down to let them puncture her. 

She shoves another finger into your mouth and you gag, let her hit the back of your throat. Drool is coalescing and running over them. The sight makes Ambessa open you further, and hold you down as she slides your clits together over and over—harder and harder.

Your babbling makes the both of them smile, dark curves tinged with their sadistic pleasure. Again, the possession. Ambessa shoves Caitlyn aside and crawls over you to hook her thicker digits into your mouth. She drags you, your head lolling, as she reaches down and rubs your clit.

You scream, silent with your mouth open wide as you cum. This is not enough. It is never enough. She is back on you, like a lioness on a gazelle. Her pussy swallows yours, and Ambessa forgets you as she leads herself to that approaching golden horizon.

When she crests, she falls on you and you do nothing but accept her weight. You lay there, do this for what feels like years, until Caitlyn weasels behind you. Then you do it again.

🕸

You wake with a start, disoriented by the weight pinning you to the bed. Caitlyn's arm drapes loosely over your waist, her fingers curled like she’d been holding you even in sleep. Ambessa’s warmth radiates from behind you, her breath slow and even. The sheets smell of sweat and sandalwood, of something heady and unnamed.

The sheet clings to your skin almost oppressively, a reminder of last night’s twist of limbs and pleasure. You slide out from between them, careful not to disturb their slumber. Ambessa stirs slightly, her arm shifting, and you hesitate. Caitlyn murmurs something unintelligible, and you freeze. When neither of them wakes, you slip free.

You take Caitlyn’s robe from the chair by the bed, pulling it around your shoulders. The fabric is sheer, nearly useless, but it smells of her. You step onto the balcony, and the cool morning air kisses your skin. The horizon is painted in hues of gold and rose, the sun stretching its fingers across the sky.

You lean against the railing, the chill of the metal biting into your palms. The fortress sprawls below and blends into the distant city, a patchwork of shadows and light. For a moment, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. But the ache in your chest reminds you that isn’t true. 

You are loved. You are wanted. And it terrifies you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make sense of the ache in your chest. The robe clings to you, and the light hits your body in a way that feels exposing, even with no one watching.

A soft sound pulls your attention, and Caitlyn steps out onto the balcony, her hair a tumble of dark waves over her shoulders. She’s still half-asleep, her bare feet silent on the stone. When she sits beside you, the space between you feels both unbearable and necessary.

"Couldn't sleep, baby?" she murmurs, her voice rasping in the quiet.

You shake your head, eyes fixed on the horizon. You ignore the goosebumps that rise at the pet name.

 "I don’t know what to do with so much love," you say finally, your voice trembling. "From you. From her. It’s… too much."

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reaches out, her fingers brushing your forearm. You flinch, and she pulls back, pain flickering across her face. 

"Baby," she says softly, and the word lands like a stone in your chest. "I will undo this. I will make your living easier."

You exhale sharply, the sound halfway to a laugh.  “Will I always have to share you?” you ask. 

You don’t look at her. 

Caitlyn hesitates, then glances toward the bed where Ambessa shifts, her hand moving as if searching for you in her sleep. You glance over instinctively, the motion so natural it betrays you.

“I could ask you the same,” she says finally. Her tone is steady, but there’s a thread of something deeper woven through it—something sharp and sad. Your gaze flickers to her, then back to the bed behind you. Ambessa shifts again, her brow furrowing, and you instinctively turn to her. The action is so ingrained, that you don’t realize what you’ve done until Caitlyn speaks again.

“She pulls at you,” Caitlyn says, not unkindly. “I see it.”

You want to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you say, “And you don’t?”

Her lips curve into a wry smile. “I pull at you too. But she’s… something else.”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling over you. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The city stirs below, oblivious to the ache of your small world.

INTERLUDE: THE LIONESS, WITH THE COIN IN HER MOUTH. 

Ambessa lies still in the bed, her breathing measured and even, but her mind sharp and alert. She hears the murmur of voices from the balcony, the quiet cadence of Caitlyn's voice mingling with yours, a soft harmony in the cool morning air. 

Her eyes remain closed, yet her thoughts stray to the image of you wrapped in Caitlyn’s robe, the rosy light of dawn casting faint halos around your figures. She imagines the tension in your body as Caitlyn reaches for you, the way you’d shift, hesitant, but never pulling away entirely. It’s a dynamic Ambessa understands all too well: the push and pull, the magnetic sway you hold over both of them.

You’re the thread that binds, fragile yet unbreakable. It’s maddening. It’s beautiful.  

Ambessa shifts slightly, her fingers brushing the cool sheets where you once lay. The absence is temporary—she knows this. But the way you linger in her mind is something she can’t easily reconcile. She has always been a woman of precision, of control. Yet you are beginning to undo her in ways she cannot name, cannot stop, that she believed herself too old for.

Through the door left ajar, your voice carries faintly. When you and Caitlyn return, Ambessa will let you come to her. For now, she waits, her lips curving faintly, as if in a private, unspoken promise.  

“You’ll come back to me,” she murmurs under her breath, a whisper carried only by the stillness of the room.  

And outside, the sun climbs higher, gilding the world in its light.

RE: THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.

Caitlyn leans back, her eyes tracing your face. "We grew up together," she begins, her voice softer now. "Trained together. They taught us to kill, to win, to survive. But you…" She pauses, swallowing hard. "You were always my half. I can’t promise much, but when the pendulum swings, I will choose you to save. Every time."

Her words settle heavy in the space between you. You lean your head against her shoulder, letting the warmth of her presence ease the sharp edges of your doubt.

Caitlyn tilts her head, resting her cheek against your hair. "You’re half of me," she murmurs.

From inside, Ambessa’s voice calls softly, "Come back to bed."

Caitlyn shifts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then your nose, and finally your lips. It’s a lingering kiss, tender and unhurried as if she’s trying to pour every unsaid word into you.

"You’re my girl," she whispers against your mouth. "I love you, baby."

The declarations are so soft you almost think you’ve imagined them. But the look in her eyes tells you otherwise.

Ambessa calls again, her voice low and expectant. Caitlyn straightens, her hand falling away from yours. She glances at the door, then back at you. She stands, offering her hand to you. 

"Come," she says simply.

You hesitate, the ache in your chest a living thing. But you take her hand.

The sun exposes as it further moves toward its high point, casting the balcony in streaky light, but you feel no warmth. Only the quiet weight of something you can’t name, pressing into the spaces between your ribs.

And behind you, the world goes on turning.

“Come,” Caitlyn says again, her tone gentle but firm.

You go.

© hcneymooners.

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New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Maks's oneshot!

LOVE VIRUS 2; L.DH

synopsis — you finally left the ER department, but why do you keep popping up in Haechan’s life and mind?

genres — first love au, co-workers-to-lovers, doctor au

pairing — general surgeon!lee donghyuck x nurse!fem!reader

warnings — language, mentions of death, incorrect medical descriptions, fire accident, lots of HC going back and forth with his thoughts, medical setting, lot of pov changes

word count — 7,6k (part one) 5,6k (part two)

author’s note — this fic is based off the j-drama ‘an incurable case of love’! but besides some events and the premise, they aren’t similar. i also added doses of other k-medical drama moments in the work, mostly because i am far from medically educated so i apologize to any of you who are reading this.

a/n part 2: this part switches focus between haechan and y/n a lot. whenever it’s haechan-focused, he will be referred to as haechan (in y/n-focus he is referred to as donghyuck).

  HAECHAN: all the voices say the same thing.

There was no turning back. As much as people like to think that he is socially stumped, Haechan wasn’t. Being socially aware, but not acting upon it is a choice, and it was always the most time-efficient choice in his opinion. The opinions of others don’t matter, everyone knew he had the skills to match his attitude, so why bother being likable when a doctor’s job is to save people?

His nth consultation ended with another pair of wary eyes looking at him. He told them exactly what the surgery was and what their chances of survival were, yet the patient only turned away once the rookie nurse added some sugar-coated words to his story.

It’s so stupid how people let themselves fall into meaningless words of hope. They’d be ready to fight Haechan over well-formulated diagnoses with realistic predictions, but once you pitch in with some sentimental words about healing, they are always easily satisfied. You throw in one of your sweet and kind smiles and the patient is sold. 

It frustrated him how much of those smiles he has been seeing lately. Somehow, after he revealed that he remembered you, it was him who became hyper-aware of you. He can’t even properly criticize your work anymore because it did actually improve, and you knew it because you have been flashing proud little smiles at him whenever he didn’t tell you off on something he did before.

Haechan was sure that the thoughts of you would quiet down after you finished your ER rotation and continued on to other departments. But it really didn’t help that you ended up at cardiology and Mark was somehow so fond of you that he always mentions you whenever the surgeon went out for a drink with the cardiologist. 

(“Nurse Y/N baked some cookies for the team today, they were crazy.” Mark told his friend while stuffing his face with another piece of chicken. Haechan sipped his beer, trying to focus on anything but the image of you smiling brightly with a tray of cookies.

“She even made a special version, which Jeno approved to give to his patients.” The surgeon hummed with indifference – at least he tried to. “Yo, are you even listening?” Haechan’s eyes flick to Mark with annoyance.

“Well, sorry that I don’t want to hear about Y/N and Jeno being some sort of charity towards their patients. I’m not exactly invested.” Mark gaped at his friend, who grabbed his glass to take a huge sip. “No way, you are into her, dude.” And the surgeon spat his drink all over Mark with zero guilt.)

Even worse, you keep showing up in his barely-there free time as well, present in his house, talking to his cousin like you’ve known her for years when it has been literal months. The two of you are always watching some cheesy rom-com whenever Haechan looks over at the living room from the open kitchen, which he only entered for some water by the way.

Tonight was one of those nights where you came over while your roommate was out with her friends. Karina brought home some fried chicken and the two of you were enjoying your meal with an episode of Perfect Match a background noise.

“Girl, I can’t believe it's only been three months since you started here. You already received a request to start in the cardiology department which is very impressive.” This news was unknown to Donghyuck, he sits up a little straighter, his laptop and work long forgotten on the kitchen island. 

You shake your head profusely, “I only got the offer because the team thinks I do well with the patients. Besides, the majority of the team already knew me before I started.” 

It was true, the cardiology department was where your roommate Minjeong was stationed. It would be no surprise if she recommended you, as well as Mark, although he would have done it for different reasons.

“So what?” Karina stretches out the ‘a’ for dramatic effect, “Wasn’t it Jeno that turned in that request?” She continues to press the topic further, and Haechan knows his cousin. She was trying to get on his nerves. He directed his gaze to the living room to confirm that Karina was indeed eyeing him. The conversation the cousins had once resurfaced.

(“I think you should try dating again, Haechan.” His cousin casually dropped while they were having dinner. Haechan scoffs, pointing his fork at his cousin accusatory. “Just say you want me together with your little friend and be done with it. Don’t beat around the bush.”

“Okay, fine, let me be honest. Y/N is a great girl, and if you don’t act on it fast, she will be taken in no time.” Although Haechan saw you in a professional light most of the time, he was still a man who could objectively confirm that you were attractive. But you were so different from him that he couldn’t imagine himself with you.

“I doubt she is that popular, Karina. You are overreacting.” He tries to play it nonchalantly, if she notices, she doesn’t mention it. The two ate their dinner with small bickerings on random topics, but the thought that there was someone in the cardiology department didn’t sit right with Haechan.) 

At least he didn’t need to ask Mark about it anymore now that his cousin had revealed the name of the guy. Haechan absolutely refuses to ask his best friend even remotely about any female, knowing he won’t live it down if it comes to Mark Lee. It was however quite surprising that Jeno requested you to join the cardiology department, after all, Jeno wasn’t much of a social butterfly compared to his co-worker Mark. But his sweet smile and mellow nature made him popular amongst the female staff of any department.

It wasn’t jealousy – he knows for sure (no he doesn’t)– but wonder? A small piece of him was kind of proud that you managed to establish a steady image of yourself that became well-liked by the cardiology department. He wasn’t jealous, really. Part of the rotations is to see which team would fit best for each rookie nurse. Haechan also knew that there were very few nurses who ended up applying for the emergency department, feeling an overwhelming responsibility to work hard and fast under very unappealing circumstances.

Haechan is about to open his mouth to throw a teasing comment your way, itching to see how you’d react, but his phone goes off. An emergency alert.

He looks up to see the same expression on Karina’s face, the two cousins stand up in unison and rush to get their stuff. The surgeon notices you walking toward him as he packs his laptop into his bag.

“What happened?”

“Emergency alarm, all available staff are asked to come and help out.” He doesn’t look up, rushing into his room to grab his remaining necessities before exiting and walking toward the door. You stand there with Karina, the head nurse looking at Haechan, her eyes asking for help.

“Y/N wants to come, too.” Haechan frowns, frankly speaking, he didn’t have time for this as he should be rushing to the hospital, but he somehow still finds time to argue with you on this.

“When I said all available staff, I meant the ER and related staff. General surgery is always called in for these things. The cardiology staff on shift will cover what they need just fine.” He waves you off, putting his shoes on and opening the door, already rushing down the hallway to the elevators. But if Lee Donghyuck had spent just as much time with you as Yu Karina had, he’d have known how persistent you actually are, strutting into the elevator with Karina.

You don’t even spare the man a look, a smug smile on your face while you wait for the elevator to reach the ground level. Haechan hides his forming smile behind a scoff. “Did I lose your respect after you rotate in other departments, Nurse Y/N?” You turn around to face Haechan with a smile, and the man forgets to keep his composure for a second, but snaps back before you – or his cousin – can notice.

“In case you didn’t know, I am free to apply for any department now that I’ve completed the obligatory rotations. Besides, there are people out there who need help right now Dr. Lee. I don’t think refusing to help hands is the efficient choice right now.” Haechan rolls his eyes, not missing the detail of your word choice.

♡

The accident site wasn’t far from your apartment complex, Haechan had to make the quick decision of sending Karina off to the hospital as head nurse and took you with him to the accident site. 

“Hello, this is doctor Lee Donghyuck from general surgery. I’m going on-site to assess the situation. Please send over one medical unit and extra emergency kits.” Haechan pauses for a moment to look at you, “I already have one nurse with me.” He informs the emergency response center before taking a sprint.

This wasn’t his first time on an accident site, he knew the drill but repeated it nonetheless for you. “Make sure to stay close to me. You are here to assist me, and I am here to assess who we can and cannot treat. Nurse Y/N, what you are about to see will be upsetting, but I need you to stay clear-minded, okay?” His voice was more gentle as he spoke the last part, but he knew the moment the two of you set eyes on the site, that your heart must be heavy and racing just like his.

Haechan was shortly informed on the phone that a fire broke out in a neighboring high school; he already knew that there would be a lot of injured students. But knowing never softens the blow. The sounds of crying, coughing, and screaming students momentarily freeze the surgeon, but the moment he looks at you, he knows he has to stay strong to keep both of you afloat. He grabs your hand, telling you to follow him towards a temporary set-up tent where paramedics are already busy dividing tasks.

“I’m doctor Lee Donghyuck from Neo-Seoul Medical Center, this is Nurse Y/N L/N. What can we do to help?” A tall paramedic turns to the two of you, his face looks strained but he manages a polite smile and shakes your hands. “I’m glad help could come this fast. I’m the captain of unit A, paramedic Johnny Suh. We are currently waiting for the clear sign to enter the building and look for survivors. It’s best that you two start with labeling all the students who managed to get out already. You know the codes?”

“Yes,” Haechan answers curtly, it wasn’t unusual that people underestimated him because he looked young, but he didn’t waste much time on the thought and rushed to the first students he could find.

He checks the pulse of a still-laying male student while a female sits next to him on the ground, crying. You assist Haechan with all the tools he needs to check on the non-responding patient while he asks the conscious female a few questions.

“Give her a green label and him an orange label,” Haechan instructs before standing up and looking for the next patient. He hears you tell the girl that orange means the boy will be fine and the girl cries out louder, thanking the two of you.

♡

Y/N: that fire that burns dangerously.

What felt like hours went by while Donghyuck and you checked patient after patient. Yangyang and Sion joined the scene to help lift part of the burden as on-site medical staff. You tried your best to keep up with Donghyuck while trying to keep your head cool. There were so many students, and young lives that will hold this disaster as a tainted memory for a long time.

You knew you’d been here way too long, the fire wasn’t completely out yet and the paramedics did warn you to take precautions. The mask on your face started to feel suffocating and it was obvious that both Donghyuck and you needed a break before you exhausted yourself in these extreme conditions. Your hand reached out to call him, but you froze at a familiar cry near the two of you.

“Somebody, please…” A weak female voice calls out between coughs, you whip your head around and run without warning Donghyuck. Her voice was something you wouldn’t forget. You have laughed with that voice, cried with that voice, and screamed with that voice at one of the scariest moments in your life: it was Minnie’s voice.

“Minnie.” Her name leaves your lips with a gasp, she is dirtied with soot and trembling. You rush to her side and hug her tight, just relieved that she is alive. You feel her take a deep breath for a moment before she breaks out in coughs again. She pushed you off her with frantic eyes, trying her best to tell you something, but you were too close to the smoke and you didn’t doubt that she had been for a longer time.

“R-riku oppa–.” She forced the words out between coughs before you signaled paramedics to take her away. You jump on your feet, and a slight dizziness clouds your vision momentarily when you look around you. If Minnie has been so certain to not flee any further, it must mean that Riku was within reach. You try your hardest to see through the fire, unknowingly walking closer to the building, too desperate to save another child. The sight breaks your heart like a stone through a glass wall; Riku lies unconscious near the exit, a large object on top of his upper body, making it impossible for him to escape. 

It wasn’t instinct, nor was it reflex. The complete opposite snapped in you, all the care for your own safety flew out the window the moment you saw the teenage boy. Your legs weren’t yours, your strength wasn’t yours, everything was automatic and with no thoughts. The object was heavy, likely a fallen piece of the ceiling, but you managed to lift it just a bit. 

You shut your eyes and focus all your strength on removing the object, not even realizing that a group of paramedics and Donghyuck himself have found you and are helping out. Only after you felt like there was no strength left in you did you open your eyes, the object was off Riku’s body and Captain Suh was performing CPR. Donghyuck looked at you with concerned eyes, but his words didn’t register in your mind as exhaustion seeped into you. The last thing you remember is his arms around your body and the impact of something hard.

♡

HAECHAN: between you and me.

Haechan saves lives. It was one of the most normal things to do for him, hell – he was a professional after all. A general surgeon working in the emergency department, he was used to seeing people in very bad shapes and situations. These weren’t limited to the ER, but also on the accident sites. Haechan has always been the few doctors that were dispatched the most often whenever a disaster broke out. Thanks to his expertise, he knew exactly what and where the injured could go for the best treatments. He was also well aware of the procedure at the sites. Never would he call himself a sucker for rules, but he knew the importance of protocol and why they existed in the first place.

Yet he didn’t hesitate to run after you when you were obviously breaking any and every point of the set rules. Yet he even helped you out with your ridiculous quest to save a student that you were not capable of doing on your own. Yet he risked his life to push you out of the way because you were too caught up in the situation to stay aware of your surroundings.

Doyoung expected a lot of things from Haechan, but to tell him off on something he had done perfectly for so long was a surprise.

“This report doesn’t make sense, Donghyuck. You were supposed to be the best of the batch, but you’re messing up your entire fast track with a rookie mistake?” Doyoung rubs his hand over his face in frustration. Haechan was not a promising resident anymore, he was already at a similar level to some of the senior surgeons. If he had to be honest, Haechan might be better at certain surgeries than Doyoung himself. 

It’s stupid, that’s what it is. Haechan made one mistake and the board jumped on the opportunity to humble the cocky surgeon. Haechan knows it’s unfair, probably anyone with a little more insight on the situation knows that this was a personal attack on him. But even as Chief of General Surgery, his power knew limits. 

“Listen, I can’t get you back on track soon. But the good side is that the kid you saved was a close relative of the paramedic team on the scene. You might have temporarily lost your chance at promotion, but at least you got a paramedic team on your beck and call.”

Haechan didn’t speak much, just listening to Doyoung’s rants and nagging before leaving his office. He opens the door to catch you sitting in the waiting area. He knows he has to leave as soon as possible before you catch him, but his lingering gaze delays his moves and you look right up to his walking figure.

“Dr. Lee!” You shout through the hall, Haechan’s body freezes, allowing you to run up to him and hold his sleeve. A feeling of deja vu rises in Haechan, along with other things he is not ready to identify. “I need to talk to you, please.” The surgeon takes a deep breath and turns to you, a stoic expression hiding his uncertainties.

“Is it true that you lost your spot on the fast track?” Haechan rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t deny anything, too focused on not looking into your eyes. “Why?” You ask with a crack in your voice. If Haechan was too nervous to look in your eyes before, he is now terrified to catch your gaze. He is afraid of all the things he will say, and all the things he won’t say.

“Nurse Y/N, you should worry about your own conversation with your superior. Leave my business alone. Hell, leave me alone for once” Haechan snaps, misplaced anger in his words as he shrugs your hand off his sleeve and walks away. He didn’t look at your face, but he pictures your pained expression in his head, and he hates it.

Just like that, the two of you didn’t speak for weeks. You ended up choosing cardiology and were currently in Dr. Lee Jeno’s OR team. Maeda Riku was in fact one of the latest patients you assisted in Jeno’s OR, and due to the complicated surgery ending successfully, the entire team was invited to a conference to share the experience.

Haechan was a bit proud – or a lot – of your growth throughout your time at Neo-Seoul Medical Center. You still seemed a bit clumsy, but you were definitely quicker on your feet and managed to soothe the hearts of many cardiology patients. The general surgeon can act like this is all information he heard from Mark who seems to think Haechan needs weekly Y/N-updates (Haechan is kind of curious, he won’t lie), but deep down he already knows that even without Mark, Haechan will always look out for you from a distance.

“I’m telling you, dude. Lee Jeno is going to confess to her in Busan and you will end up single for the rest of your life!” Mark rubs his face in frustration, and his friend slash colleague’s passive behavior is ticking him off. Haechan’s face remains neutral, he grabs another strip of meat and puts it on the grill, he shrugs after seeing the cardiologist unmoving staring at him. “What does that have to do with me?”.

He’s feigning ignorance and he knows it. Haechan is still foolishly lying to himself that he doesn’t know about your… affection for him. You liked him silently, innocently, like anyone would feel about first love. But your little crush wasn’t the problem here, it was his growing love for you. While you just rekindled your previous crush on him, you set Haechan's heart ablaze in the most unsuspecting manner. One day he thought of you as the annoying new rookie in his department, preparing himself for any mistake you could make. But the next, he would be going home in between shifts, ‘resting’ and wondering whether you’d come and visit his cousin. 

Suddenly, your mistakes weren’t annoying anymore and your care for patients softened his expressions. Suddenly, he didn’t mind having to eat your slightly sour food when you decided to cook Karina and his dinner. Suddenly, every extra mile you went for the people around you warmed his heart. And suddenly, that warmed heart became yours.

He doubted it at first, his feelings. Maybe he hadn’t met a fanatic rookie in a while – although Yangyang’s rookie days were also quite eventful. But Haechan knew for sure that you weren’t just a temporary infatuation when he ran into a burning building for you. He knew the consequences, the risks, but he didn’t care.

It felt unfair to you, who was just starting a career and exploring the medical world, to be tied down to a man with a bad reputation with colleagues who might affect your future. 

“You’re telling me you aren’t going to fight for her?” Mark pushes, clearly his friend was hiding something but needed something to switch him on.

“I’m telling you she deserves better.” And Mark Lee was quiet about it, because Haechan was many things, and arrogant was at least in the top three words anyone would use to describe the surgeon. To have his colleague and long-term friend admit that he might not be the best option was out of the world, and so must his love for you be as well.

♡

Haechan sighs, swirling the champagne in his glass as he watches his colleagues and fellow medical professionals socialize. Through Mark’s effort, Haechan managed to get a few days off to join the conference in Busan, and now he is forced to come because Doyoung thought a conference was the perfect way to torture Haechan for his misbehavior.

He was right, it did feel like torture for Haechan. But it was because he was in a room filled with pretentious people, or because the catering was way too healthy and he needed something sweet.

It was torture because you were the most beautiful person in the room, and it was Jeno Lee who stood by your side. You wore a simple maxi dress which could have looked dull on anyone who didn’t glow like you. Your kind smile was given left and right and you laughed at all Jeno’s dry jokes. Haechan hated everything, but he loathed himself the most for not being the man next to you.

He goes outside and looks for his lighter, hoping that a long good smoke will help him escape. The surgeon spots Mark’s approaching figure and sighs again. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You smoke again?”

Haechan tries to flicker the lighter again but fails. “What else am I supposed to do in this situation? Fucking go and tell her? Ever since she entered my life, she has been prying open that shitty door that I didn’t know existed?” Haechan drags a hand through his hair, throwing the lighter away in frustration. “I can’t do that, Mark. Whenever I picture myself next to her, I can only think of myself as a medical mentor. I don’t have anything else to offer. I pale in comparison to her shining nature and it’s making me sick that Lee Jeno is going to walk away with her tonight.”

“But what about your own happiness, though?” His friend asks him. Haechan fakes a dry laugh. His back is still turned towards his friends as the general surgeon stares outside. “I could never put myself before her. I think I’ve known since that high school fire that it will always be her before me.” It sounds so cliche, too sickly sweet for Haechan to say, but if he won’t confess, the least he can do is tell his friend what has been clouding his heart and mind for months.

Haechan was frustrated, anyone could tell by his shaking shoulders. Lee Haechan felt like a loser, but he was too hopeless to do anything about it. A soft hand caresses his back to comfort him and the voice he had missed was finally speaking to him again. “Everyone deserves happiness. And everyone should move on from the past.” Your words were so simple and genuine like they always were. Haechan turns around in shock to find you standing next to Mark – who is wearing a smirk with only slight hints of guilt in his eyes for letting you listen to a highly personal conversation. 

♡

Y/N: don't ever let it die.

The banquet went by in a daze, and your mind drowns in thoughts of Donghyuck. For which reason was he here, miles and miles away from the hospital, in Yangyang’s spot at an event he deemed a waste of his time? A room filled with greed-filled people and flashy decor, chit-chat, and food that wouldn’t satisfy his picky palate. But on the other hand, this was exactly where he was supposed to be, between the powerful and skilled. 

Your untouched glass received a soft cling from Jeno’s glass. He gives you his ever-so-sweet smile. “Y/N, if you need to go, you can. I can handle the rest of this event alone.” You think back on the words that Winter spoke to you right at the beginning of your intro week at the hospital. How Donghyuck was far from your type. Lee Jeno was your type: he was hard-working, loving, and honest with his heart in anything he did. Even right now, in one of the most important moments of his career, he was willing to let you go because you wanted to. 

“They haven’t called out your name yet, Jeno. I can’t miss your spotlight of the night.” He looks down, and the corners of his lips falter. “Y/N, I don’t want one of my biggest nights to also be the night where you make one of your most regretful mistakes.” He still avoids your eyes. A few moments of silence pass between you two while you search for the right words to say.

“I’ll be okay, you can go now, Y/N.” Even though he maintained his body language perfectly fine, you knew deep down that he was hurting too. You stand up, his body flinching ever so slightly. 

“I’m sorry, Jeno.” Jeno Lee would have been your answer in any lifetime, but this is that one lifetime where your heart called another name.

♡

You saw the scene unfold in front of you. Donghyuck’s back was facing Mark and you, Mark was telling him things you knew bits and pieces of thanks to the talkative hospital staff. Haechan was crying, his lighter abandoned, and his words losing their firmness as he slowly crouched down. Mark doesn’t comfort him, instead, he turns around and looks at you. His eyes told you enough and you walked towards Donghyuck with caution. 

“Everyone deserves happiness. And everyone should move on from the past.” 

Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, all hopes shattering as you kissed him, but he wasn’t kissing you back. Your mind was a mess; did you read everything wrong? You were sure about him, but was he still doubtful about you? You push him away, embarrassment and anger fill you as you jump on your feet and flee the scene. 

You didn’t need to guess who was chasing after you when you entered the elevator. A heaving Donghyuck stops the elevator doors right before they close by forcing his hand between the tiny gap. You frown at him, “Surgeons should be careful with their hands.” He clicks on the 7th floor and only starts speaking once the doors close and the two of you are alone.

“Why did you leave the event?” He is asking the question because he selfishly wants to hear you say that you still like him. After everything that just happened, Lee Donghyuck still needed more confirmation.

“Why did you chase me here?” You fire back, hiding your embarrassment behind a thin veil of anger. He didn't answer, his actions and words were making you scoff. “If you can’t decide what you want. You shouldn’t have come after me, Dr. Lee.” The doors open and you hurry out, Donghyuck just one step behind you.

“Y/N, wait!” He stops you from closing your hotel room door, his brows pinched together as he tries to open the door, but you refuse. “Dr. Lee, don’t waste your breath on me.” The door doesn’t move, you know he’s still holding it in place, not pushing it open unless you allow him to, but not letting it shut him out because he knows this will be his last chance.

“Don’t talk like that.” 

Your grip on the door loosens and Donghyuck pushes the door open entirely, his body suddenly way too close. 

“What?”

“Don’t talk so negatively about yourself, I don’t like that.” He says, two beats of silence pass before you stammer another noise of confusion.

“And why should that matter to me? Why should it matter whether you like the things I do or not?” The back of your leg hits the edge of the table and you put your hands behind you to realize the table is stopping you from escaping him. 

Donghyuck doesn’t answer your question and takes half a step back and suddenly, you see him. He is furrowing his brows in frustration, and rubbing his sweaty palms against his dress pants. He is nervous to screw this up. He is nervous to screw up his chance with you.

Lee Donghyuck always held the rope in his hands. He is prideful and arrogant, talented and intelligent, structured and always in control. It was time to see if he would rather have his pride and control, or you.

“Did you mean what you said downstairs?” You ask him, mustering all your courage to act confident.

“I did, I do.” He answers immediately. 

“What else did you tell Mark that should have been said to me?”

“Being with me will be hard because I still don’t know how to be thoughtful towards others. I still don’t know how to take care of someone instead of fixing them physically. Heck – I don’t even know how to talk about my own emotions properly, but please listen to me when I say this Y/N. Are we very different from one another? Yes, and logically that should stop us from already. I will probably upset you more than make you happy. But whenever I think of my future and my dreams…” Donghyuck stops his rant to take a deep breath. 

“I know you are part of each and every one of them.” His eyes were searching for some sort of answer in yours. Darting left and right, looking for a glimpse of hope between the two of you. It took you all your willpower to suppress your smile. 

“I don’t deserve to beg you to choose me. But if there is even a small percentage of ‘like’ left for me.” His eyes are shining with all his emotions. Bare and raw. He is laying out all his cards – his feelings – out for you to take or leave.

He takes a deep breath, “I will take it. I will cherish it because you are my Sun, Y/N L/N. And even if you only allow one single ray of sunshine upon me, I will gratefully bask in that warmth and light forever.” His hand comes up to your face to wipe away your tears and you smile, bursting out in laughter at his words. 

Never did you expect Lee Donghyuck to talk like a poet, let alone a very desperate one at that. Having the upper hand was something you had wished for from day one when he oh so confidently smacked your mistakes in your face, but it has become clear to you that he had placed the rope in your hand a long while ago.

He musters an uncertain smile on his lips after you’ve been laughing for some time. “Please Y/N… say something to me.” 

“When did you realize you liked me?”

“I realized I liked you when I started doing things I never did before. And I knew I love you when the thought of not having you around started to annoy me more than when you make basic mistakes.”

“Gosh, where did that cold jerk go? You sound so sappy.” You tease him, hands trailing up his forearms. 

“If I were ever to hear all of the things I just told you, I might die from embarrassment.” You nod in agreement, face nearing his neck as you speak. “Don’t give me ideas I might use against you.” He smiles down at you, “I’m ready for any challenge you give me, I will prove myself.”

“Alright, we will see about that. First challenge; replace our first kiss from downstairs with one I won’t forget.” And he didn’t need to be told twice to oblige.

SEQUEL SNIPLET ♡

"Dude, you literally cannot ask me to run your ER while you're on your honeymoon. I cannot manage my duties in cardiology and emergency at the same time!" Mark complains, signing off another form head nurse Karina handed him a few minutes ago.

"Remember when you tricked me into confessing my feelings for my wife at that conference in Busan? I consider this payback." The cardiologist can already imagine the stupid smirk on his friend's face.

"I literally helped you get laid and get a wife?"

"In the most embarrassing way I've ever imagined. She literally still laughs in my face whenever she sees a lighter. Besides, both Doyoung and Jaehyun signed it off already. You can't go back unless I am back, and I am not back until my wife had enough of me." Mark rolls his eyes at his friend acting all smitten.

"Such a simp." Haechan laughs at the other end of the phone.

"See you in three months!" The cardiologist's eyes grow wide at those words. 3 months?!

taglist: @jaeveil, @lanadreamie, @pinknini7, @undomielsql, @yxnghyxck, @hyuckysunflower, @ypoom151999, @tinyzen - thank you for your patience!

any like, reblog, comment and feedback is appreciated! if you'd like to be on the taglist of this fic, let me know through an ask or comment on this work ♡

[taeghi]

take two

you weren’t expecting to see him again, but here he is. jake’s back, and with him comes everything you’ve been trying to move on from. so, what now?

PAIRING : ex!jake x y/n

GENRE : second chance love, ex's to lovers, smut, angst. bathroom sex, choking + hair pulling :D

WC : like 7k?

MDNI

your coworkers convinced you to go out with them after work. it is friday, after all, so you thought it would be a good start to your weekend after a long week of work.

across the street from your workplace is a bar that your coworkers and other workers nearby visit regularly. it's not too small and not too big, but on weekends, it's particularly busy. there are some booths that align the edges of the place, a counter area to order drinks, and a pretty large dance floor.

your coworkers and you snag a booth in the far corner.

your nails tap against the scratched wooden table as your coworkers look at the menu, thinking about ordering an appetizer for you all to share. to be honest, you aren't really hungry, and you are getting tired of them arguing about what to order.

"i'm just going to the bar to get a drink," you inform them, causing them to glance up at you.

"oh, can you get me a beer, y/n?" lila asks, her eyes lighting up.

"can you get me one, too?" daisy adds hopefully.

"why don't you just get us a jug of beer to share, y/n?" serena suggests instead.

"yeah! that would be better!" lila nods, her smile taking up her entire pretty face. daisy nods in agreement, looking between the two at the table and you.

"uh, yeah, okay! no problem!" you agree with your coworkers and turn towards the bar.

you sigh to yourself as you ask the bartender for a jug of beer and slide him $30 across the counter. you don't like beer, but you've just started working at this company and quickly realized how cliquey it is. the girls you came with tonight are more popular at your work. they're pretty and good at their jobs. you were shocked when they invited you to go out with them tonight.

since you're new at your job and don't know anyone properly yet, you decide to go out with these girls, even if they aren't your usual friend type. that's why you're ordering beer instead of your normal drink. you're used to trying to fit in with other groups and surrendering your authentic self, though you thought you wouldn't have to once you graduated college.

the bartender places a jug of beer on the counter; you reach for it simultaneously with someone else—your hand brushes against the stranger's hand on the jug's handle. you pull back quickly and start to apologize, "oh, i'm so sorry i thought that was mi-," the words die on your tongue.

"y/n?"

the way he says your name is too familiar for your liking. you've heard him say it many times before and never thought you would hear it again.

"jake?" you respond, and as you do, you realize it's the first time you've said his name out loud in years.

jake looks the same but different all at once. his features are more mature than they were in freshman year, and his hair is longer. his chest is more built, and you can't help but notice how the shirt he's wearing is so snug against his arms, which are bigger than you remembered. his eyes are more tired and sunken than they were those years ago.

"yeah, it's been a while." he speaks awkwardly, but he doesn't make a move to escape.

his words force you to think back about when you last saw him, the pain of that memory is suppressed but still somehow fresh. you remember the both of you yelling and crying and him leaving your dorm room for the last time by slamming the door behind him.

jake was your first boyfriend.

you met in your first year of college, and within a week, you were dating. the first half of your relationship was perfect. if only it could have stayed that way.

before the beginning of the sophomore year had even started, your relationship with jake sim had faltered. you think it was both of your faults as to why it ended. he began to get more popular and wanted to go out and neglected your needs for his social life, and you started to get more self-conscious and insecure.

it wasn’t long after your breakup that jake sim had disappeared. 

you hadn’t even known he left until your mutual friends and acquaintances had started asking you where he went. but you were as shocked as they were. 

you aren’t sure where he went, but you knew for a fact that he had dropped out of your university. there was a few rumours about where he had gone, like to france to learn french or that he went back to australia because his family had gone bankrupt. 

you (and probably everyone else he ever knew) checked his social media daily to see if he changed anything or posted anything. he never posted on his snapchat again, didn’t retweet a stupid meme on twitter (i will never call it X). his instagram only had one small change suddenly, a few months after he had left. the first letter of your name that was in his instagram bio had been deleted. 

you remember the feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach when you pressed his username in your recent searches, thinking that nothing would have changed, that his instagram would still look like he was forever stuck in the past. but the first thing you noticed when it slid onto his account was your initial gone. it comforted you but devastated you at the same time. 

on one hand, he was at least alive and safe if he was editing his insta bio, and on the other hand, he really had moved on from you. 

after he removed your initial you stopped checking all of his social media. at some point, he had deleted his instagram completely, but you weren’t shocked by that as much. 

you had thought you would never see jake sim ever, again and that you could move on with your life. 

but that didn't last long since he's standing directly in front of you right now.

he continues with your lack of response, "you look good, though, y/n."

you glance down at your work attire, just some dress pants and a blouse, "thanks, i'm just here after work."

"oh, where do you work?"

"uh, across the street, at the law firm, across the street."

his eyes light up at the information, "oh my god, you always wanted to work there! that's great!"

you smile painfully at his remembering of what you wanted to do after college. your gaze softening with a sadness you couldn’t quite hide. it was like you’re scared that if you blink he’d disappear again. 

"what?" he asks you with a curious smile, obviously picking up on your expression. 

"sorry," you shook your head to come back to reality, "i just… i never thought i’d see you again."

jake’s laugh was quick and full, like how you remembered it, “yeah, me neither to be honest. 

your head tilted slightly, yourbrows knitting together. "where did you go, anyways? like, when you dropped out?"

his smile faltered at that, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to notice. there was a hesitation in his eyes, his mouth opening like he was searching for the right words to be able to explain himself. 

but before he could speak, "here's your beer, miss." the bartender places another jug of beer beside jake's. you thank him before he moves on to the other customers, demanding his attention.

you glance back at jake, "i've got to get back to my coworkers…"

jake nods, and you can sense some disappointment in him, "right, i guess uh, i'll see you around maybe."

"yeah, maybe."

"it was nice seeing you, though. have fun with your coworkers."

you offer him a faint smile, "it was nice seeing you too; bye, jake."

you turn on your heel and start to walk back to your table. you feel like the blood has entirely left your body as your heart quickens. you can't believe you just saw your ex after all these years. you realize how fresh the pain is still.

you place the jug of beer on the table, and the other girls barely speak to you as they cheer for the alcohol and pour it into their cups.

for the rest of the night, you force yourself to sit there, listening to lila complain about the girl in the cubicle beside her, serena whining about how your boss has been avoiding her since their most recent hookup, and daisy hating the way the other girls in the office dress.

you try to focus on their conversations, but it feels draining. you wonder how you got yourself in this position.

you thought your life would be so different after college—that you'd actually enjoy life. but you're starting to think it's all the same no matter where you are. you're holding a cup of a drink that you don't even like and pretending to fit in with these coworkers that you really don't like.

in the same bar, there's jake sim, your ex-boyfriend of all people. you can't help but wonder how he's genuinely been and what he's been up to now.

it's a thought that keeps you up at night every few months: what would have happened if you had stayed together during college if you hadn't let your insecurities get the best of you, if you had gone out with him to those parties he was always going to?

before you can stop yourself, your gaze shifts across the room. there he is. jake is sitting at a table with a few friends, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he listens to someone speak. your heart clenches as his eyes suddenly lift, locking onto yours through the crowded bar.

the noise around you silences. his gaze feels heavier than it should—like he's reading every thought you've buried, every emotion you swore you'd moved past. you want to look away, pretend that you don't see him, but you can't. his eyes are prettier than you remembered.

just as your thoughts start spiraling, a waitress steps in front of his table, breaking eye contact. it's enough to jolt you back to reality, enough to remind you of where you are and who you're supposed to be now.

"i think i'm gonna head home," you tell your coworkers, forcing a weak smile as you grab your bag.

they barely notice as you slip away, the bar noise fading behind you as you step outside.

every step you take home leads to a new memory you've suppressed about jake. like when he used to hum his favorite song as he drove, how he pulled his jacket off and covered your head with it from the sudden rain one night, and the memory of how his voice sounded so deep and raspy in the morning as he begged you to stay "just a little longer" in bed.

how could jake still affect you after all these years?

you wipe the tear falling down your cheek.

you spent the rest of the weekend wondering why you had the worst luck. you could’ve run into anyone you’ve ever met, but it just had to be jake sim. 

your break up with jake was hard on you. he was the first boy you ever loved. sometimes you wondered if he would be the only boy you’ll ever love. 

since jake, you’ve gone on a few dates with other boys; some you’ve met on shitty dating apps and others your friends had set you up with. most of them never went to a second date and the rest didn’t last more than a year. 

it was starting to frustrate you and you were beginning to think you’d be single forever. 

your friends asked you what was wrong with all the boys you’ve dated, and you could never tell them a straightforward answer. you felt like you were looking for something in each of them that they never had. sometimes your mind would tell you that you’re looking for jake within them, but you never let yourself ponder on that thought for long. 

when monday rolled around again, you realize you spent the entire weekend holed up in your apartment with thoughts of jake sim taking up your entire mind. you tell yourself that the past 48 hours was the final time you’d ever think about him and you went to work.

you are kind of proud of yourself for not thinking too much about jake sim all week. 

everytime your ex boyfriend would seep into your mind, you reminded yourself to not think about him. there is no good about thinking about all the what if’s that surround him and your relationship. that your history with jake sim is done, and you’ll never see him again. 

this friday night, you aren’t spending it in a corner of a bar with your coworkers that you mildly hate, but spending it in a corner of a bar with your college friends for one of their birthdays. 

you had met the birthday girl, aeri, during your freshman year of college and she had easily become one of your best friends. even after college aeri and you have made sure to remain close, despite both of you working a lot of longer hours now. 

you show up at the bar she had texted you the address to earlier on time, wearing a short black dress that you always wanted to wear but never a reason to. you’re quick to spot your friend group in the bar. they were loud and already filling up two tables pushed together. 

“oh my god! y/n!” aeri suddenly squeals as she sees you over the many heads of your friends. 

the whole group turns at your name and you’re suddenly being pulled into many hugs as you greet all your friends. some of them you haven’t seen since graduation, but others you’ve seen last week. 

“happy birthday, aeri,” you greet your best friend finally, handing her her gift in a pink bag. 

“aw, thank you so much, y/n!” she pulls you into a tight hug, your chin squeezed against her shoulder and neck. 

“it’s no problem! i hope you like it!” 

“oh, you know i will.” aeri moves her hand dismissively, but then her eyes suddenly light up. “oh my god, y/n, wait, guess who showed up!” 

you tilt your head curiously, “who?” 

“jake!” 

his name makes your blood run cold and your body heat up at the same time. you follow with your eyes where your best friend's finger is pointing, and sure enough, jake sim is sitting at the table. 

unlike last week, jake’s hair is pushed back neatly and he’s wearing an all black suit, he looks more put together. it makes your heart stop for a minute as you take in his appearance. his chocolate brown eyes are looking back at you with a sheepish smile on his face. 

“isn’t it great y/n? he’s back!” aeri continues, not being able to contain her own excitement for her old friend returning. 

“uh, yeah, it is.” you nod, not being able to form any other words. 

some servers suddenly approach the table with some drinks, distracting everyone, so you take your chance to sit down at the only empty chair at the table. which just so happens to be across from jake. 

you curse yourself for taking so long to pick an outfit out, you could’ve been here earlier and not forced to sit directly looking at your ex. 

thankfully, sora is sitting beside you, she’s the sweetest girl you’ve ever met. you met her during your final years at college, though you wish you could’ve met her much sooner. she always knows how to cheer you up. 

“hi, y/n! i love your dress.” sora greets you, her lovely smile already on her pretty face. 

“thanks sora, i love your dress too, it’s super pretty!” 

she thanks you before she takes a sip of her drink, “so you were friend’s with jake too, then?” 

dammit sora. 

your wide eyes meet jakes wide ones across the table. both of you look at each other and then at sora. since sora had joined your friend group later on, she never got to meet jake. maybe she’s heard some stories about him, but that’s all she would’ve known about your ex. 

“uh yeah, we were.” jake speaks for you, keeping his voice so calm compared to how you were feeling inside. 

from down the table you hear aeri scoff, “please sora, they weren’t just friends.” everyone turns to look at aeri, who bless her heart, is already wasted, “they dated!” 

your stomach drops further at your best friend reminding everyone about your past relationship with jake. the table laughs as you see everyone remembering. you stare down at your lap, wishing you could disappear. 

“yeah, sora,” you hear your friend heeseung speak from down the table, “jake and y/n use to be like attached at the hip.” 

sunghoon, who’s sitting beside heeseung chimes in with a teasing smile, “jake and i use to live together in freshman year. it was like y/n was our third roommate. i remember us joking about her having to start paying rent she was there so often!” 

the laughter around the table is lighthearted, with everyone remembering freshman year. but you leave your gaze fixated on your lap. you glance up at jake quickly, wanting to see if he’s just as awkward and embarrassed as you are, but of course he’s not. 

jake is calm and seems completely nonchalant about the whole thing. 

before you could spiral further, the servers return with plates of food for everyone. the conversation shifts as everyone starts to prepare to eat, mumbling about how hungry they are. 

sora leans toward you, her expression apologetic as she whispers to you, “i’m so sorry about that y/n. i should’ve been quieter or something.” 

you shake your head, giving her a small smile. “it’s no problem sora. it’s okay— you didn’t know.” 

from down the table, aeri’s voice cuts through, “more shots!” she yells, raising her glass high. you realize she must be really going full out for her birthday this year. 

suddenly, you feel something brush against your calf. the gentle but purposefully movement makes you jump slightly. your eyes dart across the table, meeting jake’s calm gaze. his leg is the one stretched out under the table with his foot gently rubbing yours. you can tell that the look in his eyes is asking if you’re okay. it makes your chest tighten. 

you can’t hold his gaze for long. 

you take the chance to excuse yourself. “i’m going to the bathroom,” you murmur quietly to sora, who nods in understanding. you can tell she still feels bad for triggering the jake conversation. 

you leave the table quickly, making a beeline straight for the hallway that leads to the bathroom. when you reach the door though, it’s locked. 

“great,” you sigh to yourself and spin to lean against the wall, it’s cold against your warm skin. 

you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. everytime you think you’ll never see jake sim again, you’re always proven wrong. and now, he’s back with your friend group, so you’ll have to see him even more often. you don’t know if you can do it. you think about going home early. aeri is too drunk to notice if you disappear before her fourth round of shots. 

another person walks in the tight, dark hallway to the bathrooms which makes you glance up and realize it’s jake. 

he stops in front of you, “are you okay?” 

“yeah, just someones in there,” you nod towards the closed bathroom door, “so i’m waiting.” 

jake nods as his mouth forms an “O” in understanding. he leans back against the opposite wall of you, so you’re both facing each other. 

now, in the dark, you recognize how much his facial features have matured since you last saw him. he’s not boyish and silly like he used to be when you dated. jake looks more serious and stoic and you wonder if you would even know parts of him anymore. 

“why are you acting like nothing happened between us?” jake suddenly asks you. 

it takes you by surprise, how blunt his question is. you try to remember if jake was this blunt when you dated. 

“what do you mean?” 

jake pushes off the wall behind him and he steps towards you, closing the distance in the small hallway. his movements have your pulse racing. his frame is enclosing you against the wall, he leans one of his hands against the wall beside your head. 

“you know what i mean, y/n.” jake’s voice is low as he speaks. he looks down at you, right into your eyes. you feel your knees buckle. “you’re sitting there, acting like we’re strangers or something. like none of it mattered. like i didn’t matter to you.” 

your whole body feels like its on fire. your fingers grip the hem of your dress, trying to keep you present and upright against the wall behind you. 

“jake,” you whisper, trying to tell him anything. but the intensity in his eyes and how close his body is to yours make it hard to think straight. 

“just tell me, y/n,” jake says slowly, his free hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, making your breath hitch at his touch that you haven’t felt in years, “is this really how you want it to be between us?” 

his words hang in the air. the tension between you is so thick in this small hallway that it feels almost suffocating. his hand lingers on your cheek. the touch of his fingers makes your brain fuzzy. you want to respond to him, saying something or anything to him, but you can’t focus on anything but how close he is to you. how familiar his touch is. 

“tell me you don’t feel it anymore.” jake tells you, his breath warm against your skin. his fingers fall to your jaw, titling your face up so you’re forced to look directly at him. you feel hyper-aware of the fact that his lips are just a mere inch away from yours. 

“f-feel what?” 

the bathroom door opens right beside your head, the light from inside brightens the hallway. you both freeze as you look at a girl you don’t recognize step out of the bathroom. her eyes widen slightly as the light behind her exposes both of you pressed up against the wall. her face is contorted as he awkwardly walks around you and back to the bar. 

before you can say anything, jake is pushing you into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it with both of you inside. 

jake doesn’t give you a second to breathe, he’s pushing you up against the sink’s counter, your hips pushed against the ledge. 

“the neediness y/n,” jake answers your question from the hall, “you used to be so needy for me. you used to make me make you cum at least twice before we could even leave the house. do you remember that, y/n?”

his words make you gasp, the memories of all the times jake has made you orgasm come flooding into your mind. no one’s ever known your body as well as jake has. no one’s ever been attentive as him. with all the boring dates you’ve been on through the years, the sex was just as boring. 

“do you want me to remind you why you were so needy for me, baby?” 

“please,” you whine out, suddenly caving into your desires, to your neediness. 

within seconds jake is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter behind you, your back pressed up against the cool mirror. his hands don’t hesitate to roam your body, feeling your body again, like he once did all the those years ago. you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you’re quickly remembering how easily his touch affects you. 

“did you miss my touch, baby?” jake whispers, his hot breath fanning your neck. it sends goosebumps across your skin. his lips start to trail down your neck, kissing the skin there so softly, teasing. his hands are the complete contrast to his lips, they’re rough like they own you. 

even after all these years, it still seems like jake knows exactly how to tease you and touch you. it feels as if there was no time gap between then and now. 

jake’s fingers start trailing up your bare thighs, so gently and warm, “you missed the way i make you feel? the way i make you cum?” his words further light the fire within you. you nod against the mirror behind you, watching as he stands between your legs, his fingers finding the already damp fabric of your panties. 

jake hooks his fingers under the elastic and pulls them down, leaving your bottom half completely exposed to his eyes. the sudden rush of cool air on your core makes you gasp. but jake wastes no time and slides two fingers inside your wet folds, eliciting a soft cry from your lips at the feeling of being stuffed. 

“you’re so fucking wet baby,” he growls, his fingers starting to push in and out of your hole. he curls them in just the right way that has you moaning already. he knows your body already, he doesn’t need to probe around to find that one spot that has you writhing in pleasure. he knows what makes you weak. “do you want me to fuck you right here? in this bathroom with all of our friends outside waiting for us?” 

you can only nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as his fingers still fuck into you. he leans directly over over pussy, allowing a string of spit to fall from lips and right onto your core, mixing with your juices all over his fingers. the sounds emanating from your pussy fill the bathroom. the slick noise jake’s fingers slicking against your juices mingle with your moans. 

jake adds a third finger, stretching you, filling you. its the most full you’ve been in years. the sensation is addicting. 

“tell me you missed me, baby.” jake demands, his fingers twisting and thrusting inside of you. “tell me you’ve been thinking about my touch— my cock pounding into you.” his words are even more addicting as you’re forced to listen to him in your ear. you whimper out in response, trying to keep your eyes open to watch him, to watch his fingers sink into your wet core over and over again. 

“say it,” he insists, his fingers slowing their pace, teasing you. “say you need my cock, that you want me to remind you why you loved my cock so much.” his free hand reaches up, gripping your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your thoughts swirl. the choke sends a rush of adrenaline through your body, heightening your senses. you feel so submissive to him that it only fuels your desire for him. 

“i, i need it!” you manage to croak out, your voice so hoarse. “please fuck me, jake, please.” 

your words make him release your neck, and instead he grabs your hair. the pain feels good as it mixes with the pleasure his fingers are giving you. 

with both of his hands busy and your hips bucking off the counter and legs squeezing around jake’s wrist, jake’s access to your sweet spot inside of your pussy was disrupted. 

“hold your legs open for me,” jake tells you. your hands reach around to hook underneath your knees to spread yourself bare for him. “good girl.” 

you whimper at the name. jake keeps your head pinned back against the mirror and keeps his other hand delved deep inside your pussy as he curls and swirls his fingers around your g spot, stretching you. 

you felt so dirty— fucking your ex in a bathroom with your friends all outside waiting for you. you’re bare on the sink counter and holding your own legs open, spreading yourself for your ex. 

“f-fuck!” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he finger fucks you. everytime his fingers enter you you feel closer and closer to the edge— you can practically taste your orgasm. “i want your cock so bad! i need it, please!” 

jake groans, he swears he feels his cock twitch in his pants at how needy your voice sounded, “fuck, you know how much i love hearing you beg. i can’t say no to it,” jake then takes his fingers out of you, chuckling at your whine and the way your pussy tries to clamp around them, wanting them to stay inside. 

he leaves you panting and writhing on the counter as he starts to unbuckle his pants and pull his hard cock out. the sight of you with your hair messy from his hand pulling it and your pupils blown out makes his cock drip more with precum. 

you spread your legs again for him to stand in between them. his large, hard cock only inches away from sliding into your pussy. he leans between your bodies again, letting spit drip from his mouth and land right on his cock. you forgot how much jake loves to make it as messy as possible. 

jake presses his cock against your throbbing clit. it makes your squirm as it rubs up and down your wet folds, collecting more of your juices and his spit. you whine out into the bar’s bathroom as he teases you. your hips try to grind against his cock that is vertical with your slit as he rubs it up and down. you really are so desparate and so needy, especially for jake’s cock. 

you’re getting tired of his teasing and smirking as he watches you try to grind yourself onto his cock. “jake, please fuck me already!” you urge him to take you then and there. 

“someone’s impatient,” jake continues smirking. before you could complain further, jake thrusts forward, filling your wet pussy in one swift motion. you instantly cry out, throwing your head back against the mirror behind you. 

the feeling of finally being stuffed full satisfies and overwhelms you at once. but, jake holds himself still for a moment, with his cock fully lodged inside of you, letting you adjust. he doesn’t pull out until you nod at him that it was okay to start. 

his first thrust back in is rough and hard. the force of his hips meeting yours makes your entire body jerk against the bathroom counter. the mirror behind you holds you in place for his harsh thrusting. jake’s hands are holding your legs tight as he begins to fuck in and out of you. 

the sound of the wetness from your juices and his saliva fill the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin. jake’s grunts are low and his face is already contorted into pleasure as he focuses on fucking his cock deep inside of you. 

“fuck you’re such a good girl, taking all of my cock like this,”  jake groans out, his pace becoming relentless and wild as he fucks you on the counter. “you’re gonna cum all over my cock right? show me how needy you are— how much you need to cum on my cock?” 

“oh fuck yes!” you cry out, your legs wrapping around his waist tighter, latching onto him, “please fuck don’t stop!” 

yor nails dig into his shoulders through his black shirt. jake reaches between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and starts to circle it the way he knows you like it. 

jake seemingly knows everything about your body, even more than you do. you swear he makes you cum than you can make yourself cum. nothing feels as good as jake— that’s all you can think about as he is pounding into you. 

suddenly, jake pulls out of you completely and steps away, making your legs drop from around his waist. 

“jake,” you whine out, “what the fuck? i was so close!” 

he only chuckles in response, “turn around, let me see your ass.” 

you shut up and get off the counter, turning around like he told you to. jake’s hand is on your back, pushing you down so your ass it up and your chest is pressed flush against the cool bathroom counter. 

jake’s other hand harshly slaps your bare skin on your ass, “spread your legs.” you do as he says again, whining at the pain and pleasure you’re feeling all at once. 

you feel jake’s hands wrap around your waist before he slides his cock back into you, both of you groaning at the feeling of the different angle. jake’s grip on your waist tightens as he starts to fuck into you from the back now. your ass moving every time he slams his cock back into you all the way. 

without jake holding you in place, you’re sure your hips would be bruised from the bathroom counter from how hard and fast he’s pounding into you. you keep your hands on the edges of the bathroom counter, letting jake fuck you at whatever pace he wants. your moans are getting louder and louder as both of you start to fill the bathroom up with the smell of sex and sweat. 

“fuck, this pussy is just as good as i remembered it,” jake grunts out behind you. his once neat, pushed back hair is now messy along his forehead from his harsh movements and sweat. his bottom lip is swollen from biting down on it as he fucks you. 

“mhm,” you nod against the counter, “y-you’re cock is still so good, fuck.” 

jake’s hand lands harshly on your ass again, your hand quickly covers your mouth to prevent you from screaming. you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as jake fucks you, his cock stretching you so fucking good. 

jake suddenly pulls your hair backwards, “stand up.” you do as he says yet again, but you need to grip the counter in front of you and lean on his body behind you to stand up. “look,” his nods beside your face from behind you, now that your back is pressed against his chest, his cock still lodged deep inside of you. 

you look ahead of you into the mirror and see what you and jake look like pressed up against each other. jake’s one hand is still in your hair, pulling it back so you’re forced to look at yourself in the mirror. both of your hair is a mess either way, and your black dress is pulled up way past your waist, it’s almost like a crop top now. 

yours and jakes eyes both look blown out, high on sex, pleasure and adrenaline. even though you’re both sweaty, you can’t help but think how good jake looks with a few sweat droplets gathering around his hairline. 

“don’t you look so sexy, baby?” jake whispers into your ear, he starts to thrust upwards into your pussy again, it makes your knees buckle underneath yourself. you whimper in response, not being able to take your eyes off of yourselves in the mirror. 

“y-you look so hot,” your voice is hoarse as you tell him. in the mirror you see him smirk at you, before he leans over and starts sucking on your neck, biting and nipping at all the spots that he knows drives you crazy. 

jake doesn’t stop thrusting his cock up inside of you as he lets go of your hair with his hand. he then trails his hand down the front side of you and circling your clit again with two fingers. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, but still keep your eyes on the mirror in front of you. it was like watching your own personal porn, the way both of you were groaning and grabbing each other. the way your entire body would jerk everytime jake thrusted inside of you. 

“that’s it, keep watching us, baby,” jake groans into your ear, your eyes meet his through the reflection of the mirror, “don’t we look so good together?” 

“y-yes,” you whimper out, the pressure on your clit making you lose yourself within the pleasure. 

“did you miss my cock, y/n? did you miss me?” 

“mhm, yes, fuck, missed you so much.” 

jake smirks against your cheek at your response, his thrusting getting more erratic, wanting to make you cum all over his cock just like you had done before, years ago. 

“then cum all over my cock baby, show me how much you missed this.” 

his words push you to the edge, your orgasm finally done building as it courses through your body almost suddenly. “fuck!” you cry out, your nails digging into the bathroom counter in front of you. without jake holding you you would’ve fallen right down from how the pleasure completely takes over your body. his two fingers don’t stop circling your clit all the way through your orgasm, making you cry out his name, your pussy clamping around his cock. 

jake continues to thrust through your orgasm, his own release building. He grips your hips tightly, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he empties himself deep inside you. "That's it, baby, milk my cock," he growls, his voice hoarse with pleasure.

As your bodies slowly calm, Jake leans forward, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, reminds you why you had always found it so hard to forget him. 

“I missed this, missed you," he breathes against your lips, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. 

with his words and now that he wasn’t inside of you or making your mind all fuzzy, his words only brought you back to reality. 

the reality that you just had sex with your ex in a bathroom of a bar at your best friends birthday party. 

jake can physically see you tense in front of him, he lets you step away from him, turning away from him to pick up your panties from the floor and quickly slip them back on. 

“y/n?” he questions you, “are you okay?” 

“mhm,” you tell him, it’s all you can manage, your mind too confused with anything else. 

the air in the bathroom suddenly feels suffocating. your lips and body are still tingling from his touch. 

it feels like just a second ago, jake was just a memory from your college days, someone that you thought you'd’ never see again, and now, you’ve just been pressed against the bathroom counter with his hands all over your skin and his lips claiming yours. you feel like nothing makes sense right now. 

you take a step back, putting distance between you and jake, your heart pounding erratically. “i can’t do this,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze as you reach for the door handle.

“y/n, wait.” jake’s voice is soft but urgent, and his hand wraps around your wrist gently, trying to stop you. “can we just talk?”

but you shake your head, pulling free from his grasp. “i can’t,” you repeat, your voice cracking slightly. without another word, you slip out of the bathroom and into the bar and then out the front door. 

the cool night air hits your face as you push open the door and step outside, trying to steady your breathing. it’s a relief compared to the heat inside that bathroom. you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to think about everything that just happened and how you’re going to get home right now. 

“y/n!” his voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to see him jogging toward you. before you can react, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. his grip is firm but not forceful, his eyes searching yours desperately. “please, talk to me.” 

you pull your wrist from his grasp, a lot harder than you had meant to, but you were angry and confused. “you don’t get to just walk back into my life like nothing happened, jake! you don’t get to just show up, fuck me, and act like—like you didn’t just leave me!”

ake flinches, his expression twisting with guilt. he runs a hand through his hair, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “i know,” he says softly. “i know i don’t deserve to just… come back like this. but y/n, i couldn’t stay away.”

“then why did you leave?” you demand, your voice cracking as you step back from him. “why did you disappear? you weren’t even home half the time anymore.” 

“because i was scared,” he’s blunt again, something you don’t recognize in the man you thought you knew, but you prefer it like this than him bottling it up and leaving. scared of how much i loved you. it was overwhelming, y/n. you were my whole world, and it terrified me. i mean, we were so young and, i didn’t know how to handle it, so i ran.”

your breath catches, tears stinging your eyes as his words sink in. “you hurt me, jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “you broke me.”

“i know,” he says, stepping closer, his expression full of regret. “and i’ve thought about you every day since i left. i just didn’t know how to fix it.”

his voice softens as he reaches for your hand, but he stops short, giving you the choice to take it. “but i’m here now, y/n and i’m not scared anymore. i love you.” 

you stare at him, his words hanging heavily in the space between you. part of you wants to push him away again, to protect yourself from the pain he’s already caused. but another part—the part that still remembers how he made you feel, how he made you laugh, how we always seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. 

“jake,” your voice weak, “you can’t just say you love me and expect it to fix everything. i mean, we dated years ago.” 

“i don’t,” jake jumps to say, “i know its not that simple, but i mean it y/n. and i had to tell you what i’ve been feeling for years, even if you don’t love me anymore.” 

you sigh, trying to sort all of your thoughts out. the person standing before you is no longer the boy you fell in love with all those years ago, even the simple interactions you’ve had with him so far you can tell he’s different. 

“it’s going to take time,” you start to say, finally, “but i can forgive you.” 

you see jake’s eyes light up in the dark night, he steps closer to you, his body heat warming yours. he takes your hands into yours, wanting you to focus only on him. “i’ll wait as long as it takes y/n. just tell me there’s a chance.” jake’s lip purse into a pout, wanting you to say yes to him. 

his round eyes looking up at yours makes you scoff, “yes jake, there’s a chance.” 

jake pulls your hands closer to him, making your body rush into his, making your faces only inches apart, “i won’t mess this up, y/n.” 

“i believe you.” 

“so… take two?” 

“take two— and it’ll be the only other take, jake!” 

“okay, okay, i believe you.” 

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

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[seosracha]

──── Room 69 , sim jaeyun

⸻ Room Sixty-Nine, where love is made

SYNOPSIS ⸻ As your parents' company fails to outperform others, you find yourself in the midst of a new financial situation and on the search for a new apartment. The roommate you stumble upon has no intentions of getting to know you better and well- you wonder how long it'll take until he fucks you.

PAIRING ⸻ roommate!jake x fem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, smut

TAGS ⸻ smoking, foul language/cursing, jake is weird and stalkerish?, making out, dom!jake, oral sex (m. receiving), degrading, unprotected sex, creampie

WC ⸻ 7k

⸻ NSFW CONTENT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI. this is purely fiction made for entertainment purposes only. do not like= don't read.

You were broke. Triple digits that usually decorated your bank account slowly turned into double digits, as you tried to endure the new reality. It was hard to let go of your usual habits, spending money like it had absolutely no value, living a lavish life and going out every Friday. Now, you had to count every penny. Instead of purchasing a basket load of expensive fruit and drinks, you were forced to reach for the cheapest bread and milk in order to survive. 

Maybe you were exaggerating. Your parents' company hadn't gone completely bankrupt, yet. The technology department, which brought in the most profit, had endured a sudden decline due to a new company, which had stolen all their clients. Maybe they were exaggerating too, the other four departments running just fine. 

Even with that, they had decided it would be best if you gave up your expensive apartment and spending mania. You would live without spending such amounts monthly, but you definitely wouldn't survive without your city view apartment. 

Since you were little you dreamt of moving out, and living in one of those high up buildings only the richest could afford. And upon viewing the apartment for the first time it was everything you had imagined. Down to the spruce wood kitchen and bottle green tiles in the bathroom. 

But here you were, intensely searching through apartment listings, hoping to find something equally nice for a good price. 

You had hoped your best-friend, Minjeong would offer you to move in with her, knowing she had a spare room in her apartment not far away from your own, but her boyfriend's move in had crushed that desire to the ground. 

You didn't want to let the thought sink in, but you knew you’d have to get a roommate. You knew that was the only solution for your poor financial situation. Unfortunately for you, any of your friends that were potential roommate material, either lived with their parents still or weren't looking to share a place with anyone. 

You had honestly put off the search for a long time, hoping you’d soon get a call from your parents saying they had finally given up on this stupid idea of cutting your monthly budget in half, but it never happened. 

One offer caught your attention, the monthly rent wasn't too bad, allowing you to still live comfortably, the deposit was also doable, and the room was just fine. 

With a few clicks, a message chain between you and your hopefully new leasing agent had formed. You prayed the offer was still available, slowly warming up to the place, analyzing every detail about the apartment through the numerous pictures attached to the advert. 

Soon enough, the generous and kind Mister Choi Jaeyoung had responded with a short confirmation and a list of information regarding his availability and precise location of the complex. You had agreed on a short tour of the apartment, but by now you had already memorized every corner. You’d probably give him a better tour of that place at this point than he could. 

“This would be your room” he pointed with his hand, gesturing you to enter the space to look around. 

It was even better in real life, the sun shined brightly through the large window, and the closet was bigger than you expected. Obviously, it was nothing compared to your high ceiling bedroom that included a bathroom and medium sized wardrobe, but still it satisfied you enough to sign all the papers your new leasing agent threw at you. 

“That room, right there” he said looking up to the closed door “-is your roommate's, Jake’s, room” he said, and you nodded. 

“Is he here?” you asked, hoping to meet him. 

You wondered why the boy hadn't come out by now in order to introduce himself to you. I mean, you two were going to be living with each other for a long time, it would be nice to at least see what kind of man he was. 

“I don't think so. Even if he is, I wouldn't recommend bothering him” he answered, and you tilted your head, confused. 

“Why? Don’t tell me he’s like fucked in the head or something” you cursed yourself for the choice of words. 

The older man laughed “No, Jake is a nice guy, but I reckon he’s just a little more on the introverted side. He treasures his peace more than anything, let’s say it like that” 

“I think I can respect that,” you smiled. 

“There was someone here before you, but he was definitely a talkative person, and I guess he didn't like the fact that Jake wasn't,” Jaeyoung added, and you nodded. 

“That really isn't a good enough reason to move out” you laughed lightly and so did the man beside you. 

You felt a bit uneasy at his words. Was Jake really that bad? Obviously your leasing agent, who was too nice for his own good, wouldn't admit to Jake being a complete lunatic with a fucked up sleep schedule, or something even worse than that. But the place was pretty tidy, it calmed your mind a little bit. 

“With that being said, you can move in as soon as you’d like. If you need any help with moving your belongings, I’d be more than happy to help you find a nice moving company. You really can't trust people with your stuff these days” he smiled kindly and you thanked him for the tour. 

You guessed you’d have to figure out your mysterious roommate on your own. 

_____ 

It had been a week since you moved in. A whole seven days had passed, and you haven't even seen his face. 

You hoped that maybe he’d offer you a helping hand with all the moving boxes, and furniture, but Jake didn't even bother to come out of his room the day of your move in. 

You knew he was there. You had passed by his room, hearing a quiet melody coming from his room or an indecipherable chatter. You considered knocking, introducing yourself, but the words of your landlord kept ringing in your ears, keeping you away from that door. 

“Isn't he going to like, help us?” Minjeong mumbled, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead. 

She had been helping you move everything in since 9AM, and Jake hadn't even budged. You were debating asking him instead of Minjeong, finally getting a chance to let yourself be known to him, but then again you knew he’d decline, or worse, not give you an answer at all. 

“Doesn’t he need to use the toilet? Or eat?” Minjeong asked, sitting down on your bed, the two of you struggled to build. “A real man should have made an initiative to help, and build this furniture” she added, looking around at the still boxed up closet and desk. 

Sizing down your living space also meant getting rid of your ridiculously large furniture, that had absolutely no right fitting into this small room. Then again, it was great to use some of the pieces as bribery, you knew Minjeong would never agree to do this for free. 

“I don’t care, but it is kinda creepy” you said, sitting down on the chair next to your dresser. 

You weren’t alone, but that’s what it felt like. You wondered what he looked like. You had looked him up on Instagram, Tiktok, even Facebook, but none of the profiles under his name matched the information you had about him. 

“It is! What if he’s like a 40 year old creep that lurks in these areas of town cause he knows this is where most students live” she inquired, and it made you feel uneasy. The story sounded plausible, and that’s when you felt like going into his room ‘by accident’ just to see him would be the best idea. 

“Don’t say that, you’re freaking me out” you said, and she laughed lightly. It was unlikely, to be completely realistic, but you could never truly know until you saw him. 

“If he turns out to be weird, you can always stay with me” she reassured, walking over to the mirror. 

“And listen to Heeseung getting his dick wet all night long? Yeah, no thank you” you half smiled, and she laughed. 

“Better than a 40 year old pervert” she pointed out, and you were forced to agree with the girl. 

Minjeong sighed turning to you “I swear I’m going to knock on his door myself if you don’t do it” 

You shook your head. You’d rather torture yourself with all the things that were yet to be done, than reach out to Jake. 

“You know what my landlord said, he could kill me in my sleep if I bother him” you warned, and she sighed once again, her gaze falling on the numerous boxes. 

“I have to leave soon, are you seriously going to do all this by yourself?” she asked, and you nodded with a sad expression on your face “You should ask Jay to help you” she grinned evilly. 

You chuckled “We’re not that close” 

“Oh c’mon, I’m not telling you to have sex with him on your precious newly built bed, just ask him for a little help. Have you seen his muscles, he can take all these boxes at once” she said, and you hid your face in your hands, smiling “And stop acting like you don’t want him. You can’t hide anything from me” 

Jay was hot. Really fucking hot. He was tall, well proportioned with long legs and a muscular torso. He carried himself so well, with a style that was so different, and a captivating face. He was also a well known frat boy and stoner, but you didn’t mind, it wasn’t anything unusual. One of the things Jay liked about you is that you weren’t naive- he knew he wasn’t the only one you were fucking around with, and you knew you weren’t his only girl. 

“I can handle it, don’t worry” 

Minjeong had left, leaving you alone with all the unmade furniture, unpacked boxes and thoughts regarding your roommate. 

What if he truly was a 40 year old, unemployed man who earns all his money from his parents? 

Or a discord mod, who has awful posture, and a dent in his head from the constant use of headphones? 

But then again, you saw the food in the fridge, he had already cleared up two shelves for you, but his own contained a healthy variety of food, which calmed your mind in some way. The same went for the bathroom, it was clean, all his things were organized, and the products he used seemed to be those a rather younger person would use. 

His music taste also contradicted all your suspicions and theories. You noted that he listened to a lot of RnB, and from time to time he’d play some rap or hip hop. 

That’s how your first week went by, analyzing every detail, and attempting to listen in on any conversations he’d have, just to finally get an idea of who your secretive roommate was. 

On friday you came back from your pilates class, something you refused to give up, crying in front of your parents to let you have at least one thing. They were reluctant, but gave in sooner than you thought they would. 

You were extremely spoiled, and there was no point in denying it. You were raised that way, and you found peace in using that as an excuse for your behavior. 

Some part of you was expecting to catch Jake in the bathroom or kitchen, hoping you’d finally get to speak to him but the only thing of his that you came home to was a handwritten note with numerous household rules. 

It made you laugh. It’s not like he was paying more than you, but still he thought he had any right to boss you around in your own place. And his handwriting- it was awful. No matter how serious you tried to take the note, it felt like you were trying to decipher ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. 

Some of them were reasonable, cleaning up after yourself in the kitchen, keeping the bathroom tidy, and doing your own laundry- all of it was understandable and something you already had been doing. 

No smoking was something you could agree to, you didn’t really do it anyways so it didn’t bother you much. The same went for no music after 11PM. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the “no having friends over” point on his long list. It was insane, especially since he had a friend over just two nights ago. You had no idea why you were the only one not allowed to bring friends over, wondering if maybe you had to ‘earn it’, or if it was because you were a girl. 

There was absolutely no way you were going to comply with any of these. 

_______ 

On a Tuesday morning you woke up later than usual. The only reason for that was a previous cancellation of your anatomy class. 

No matter how spoiled and entitled you felt, you’d never allow yourself to miss class or fail an assignment or exam. Being a model student was something your father engraved in you from a young age, sending you to expensive boarding schools and making sure you get into a good university. 

You wondered if Jake had left for class already, or for work. Not like you knew what he was doing in life anyway. 

You opened your phone to an excited text message chain from Minjeong who expressed her excitement after a steamy and long night with Heeseung. A small smile surfaced on your face as you texted back her with a simple reply. 

You were afraid to leave your room. It was stupid, this was your place and you had every right in the world to go and make yourself fucking breakfast. But the impression Jake made on you was holding you back. You wondered how he managed to avoid you every single time, how you never were able to catch him leaving the bathroom or making a dish in the kitchen. That definitely took a lot of skill and starving on his side. 

It was pathetic, the more you thought about it. You were his roomate for fucks sake, not a serial killer who was just waiting to slash his head off. You two didn't have to be friends, you never expected that of him or anyone else you were going to move in with. But a short greeting would be nice. 

After a short call with Minjeong who pulled you back to reality, with a stern voice convincing you that Jake probably wasn't in the apartment anyway. 

“If you're going to behave like this, you should start looking for a new apartment” Minjeong said, and you thought about it for a second. 

Maybe she was right, but the thought of him scared you so much to the point that you would rather starve yourself than leave the room. 

The first week you purposely did things to catch him in action, get him to finally talk to you, and that slowly faded into you not even wanting to pass by him in the hallway. 

“Fuck Y/n, seriously he’s probably some incel loser who’s afraid to look a woman in the eye” you laughed at her comment, silently agreeing “I can come over and make food with you if that’s going to make you feel safer” she said, and you instantly were reminded of his set of rules and regulations. 

“Can’t. He doesn't allow friends over” you answered and she scoffed loudly. 

“So you did speak to him?” she said, still in disbelief. 

“No, not at all. This stupid prick left a note on my desk when I was out, 30 fucking rules and most of them seemingly only apply to me. He had a friend over just 4 nights ago!” you answered angrily, and she sighed. 

“You should move out of there, seriously. If not that, then purposely piss him off until he moves out” she inquired, and it birthed a whole bundle of ideas in your head. 

Maybe that was your solution. Purposely pissing him off and going against his crazy rules, forcing him to move out before you were forced to do it. 

“That’s a good idea, I like it” you answered, and she cooed excitedly. 

“Invite Jay and fuck so loud he’ll be slamming doors” she said, and you were quick to hush her, embarrassed by her ideas. 

“I gotta go make a mess in the kitchen then” you remembered one of the early points on the list, bidding her a quick farwell and ending the call. 

She had already convinced you that Jake wasn't in the apartment, so you didn't even bother getting dressed, just slightly adjusting your underwear and strapless top. 

It really felt like you were living alone most of the time so none of the habits you picked up on while living alone had the chance to vanish. 

You slowly open the door with a quiet creek to the floor boards and leave the room, your face in your phone as you checked all the notifications that bundled up overnight. 

You weren't expecting your first meeting with Jake to look like this, but there he was in all his glory. 

He must've thought the same thing- you shouldn't be here at this hour- a single pair of boxers keeping him away from standing fully nude in front of you. 

You didn't even know the man's last name but here you were standing practically naked in front of each other. Maybe you’d be more frightened if he wasn't so fucking hot. 

His skin was slightly tanned, shoulders broad with toned forearms. He had a tiny, slutty waist- if you knew he wanted it too you’d probably fuck him right there in that kitchen. His face was even better, big doe eyes and a shaped jawline. His black hair slightly covered his face, but you could still make out all of his features. 

All the fears you had completely vanished, a new disgusting arrangement of thoughts taking over your mind as you tried to speak to the man in front of you. 

“I’m s-sorry” you quickly said, covering your eyes. 

It had only been a couple seconds since your eyes met him in this awkward situation, but it felt like you’ve been staring at him much longer. 

He didn't even bother to reply, closing the fridge with a protein drink in hand, he passed by you like you weren't even there. You watched him enter his room and close the door with a thud. 

Was this seriously all of it? You had hoped he was just a little shy, waiting for an opportunity to greet you properly whenever you had the chance to pass by each other, but he obviously wasn't interested in getting to know you. 

But how could you possibly not want to get to know him when he was so breathtakingly hot. How could you possibly stay sane knowing you're living with a David reincarnate. 

You no longer planned on playing the ‘how long until he finally speaks to me’ game, preferring to see how long it’ll take for him to fuck you. 

______________

After that day you hadn't seen Jake at all. 

You heard him occasionally laugh with his friend who seemingly had the right to come over every day, or rage at a game but that was it. He once again opted to ignore you. 

You wondered if he was thinking about you too. You couldn't possibly get him out of your head, spending a little more time in the common rooms, hoping he would finally walk out of his room. 

Was he playing hard to get or was he just a fucking sick antisocial weirdo with no interest in real life women at all. 

You had spoken to Minjeong, the girl convincing you to do something that’ll rile him up. She had finally persuaded you to invite someone over, specifically Jay, in hopes that it will piss off Jake enough to get him to speak. 

“I know him from university, he’s an engineering major” Jay said, taking a hit from the freshly rolled blunt. 

The smell of weed spread across the area, and you secretly hoped Jake could feel it seeping in through the cracks of his door. 

“What’s he like?” you asked, inhaling the smoke as he held out the blunt for you in his fingers. 

He smiled “Fucking weird. Like he doesn't talk or anything, he just hangs out around the same people all the time” 

Jay pulled you closer, blowing the smoke into your mouth, and you obeyed, inhaling the rest. He gave you a sly smile, and finally put out what was left of the blunt. 

You didn't know what was between you and Jay, but until you get Jake to notice your true intentions towards him or even speak to you, he was a good option 

“That checks out” you chuckled, shaking your head “Look at this” you opened your drawer, pulling out the paper your roommate had left you. 

You handed it to him, as he read through all the rules. He laughed and with wide eyes kept looking through it. 

“Fuck, I need Sunghoon to see this” he laughed, taking a picture of it “Already broke two rules” he smirked and handed the list back to you. 

“Not stopping there, trust me” you smiled and put it back in your desk drawer. 

He smiled evilly, and pulled you back over to sit on his lap. You complied with a sly smile, and pressed your face against his chest, Jay softly caressing your back. 

“You should move far away from this freak, seriously” he says, and you can’t help but hum in agreement. 

If you chose to disagree, Jay would start asking too many unnecessary questions you truly had no answer to. You couldn't even tell yourself why after seeing him only once, you wanted the man to dick you down so bad. 

“And live on the street? No thank you” you replied, your voice muffled by the material of Jay’s sweater. 

He chuckled “You can move in with me” 

“The streets sound much better than living with 4 sweaty frat boys in one room” you replied, and he huffed. 

“We’re not frat boys, c’mon” you scoffed at his words. 

“Stoners, frat boys, fuckboys, whatever, same thing” you count and he just rolls his eyes playfully. 

Jay’s delicate touch and sweet voice almost stopped you from hearing Jake’s angry footsteps in the hallway. 

The chance had finally come, and you were forced to ignore it. 

The sound of his footsteps kept ringing in your ears as Jay told you something about having to leave soon to do a drop. You barely listened to him, wondering what Jake was thinking about, probably already noticing you were not alone. 

The vibrating sound of Jay’s phone knocked you out of your trance, forcing you to rise from his embrace, passing him the device. 

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. I’m around the area” he replied, and lazily standing up with a stumble to his feet, he stretched and turned to you “Sorry, pretty thing. Gotta go” he gave you a half smile, and you nodded your head, trying to refocus on what’s going on behind your closed door. 

You walked him downstairs to the door, and with a chaste kiss to your forehead, he sprinted towards the subway station. You smiled, your eyes chasing his figure until he finally disappeared around the corner. 

Opening the door to your apartment once again you hoped that Jake would still be rummaging around the hallways. 

And you were right, he fell right into your trap. He was waiting there for you. 

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, and his voice was deep. It was a little raspy, probably from the way he’s screaming his lungs out playing games all night. 

His face was dark, and figure was lean. He looked a little creepy, his back blocking all the light, his body casting a shadow onto your figure. 

You wanted to smile, but decided to keep it cool “No hello, or goodmorning?” you asked, tilting your head with a sly smile. 

He looked like he was about to explode, and you liked it more than you thought you would. 

“Oh you wanna be like that? I fucking told you, loud and clear, that there were no guests allowed around here. Didn’t get through your head the first time, did it?” he groaned. 

“I’ve been here for 2 fucking weeks, and you haven’t even bothered to introduce yourself to me. You can seriously fuck off, and shove those rules up your ass while your at it” you replied, turning your back to him, heading towards your room. 

He grabbed your wrist, pushing you to the wall “You listen to me, yeah? So don’t fucking try to invite anyone over again” he said, harshly letting go off you, and without letting you finish, walked back to his room with a slam to his door. 

You were left there stunned in the hallway. Although you knew Jake wasn’t normal, you never expected him to be this fucked up. 

And you also didn’t expect it to turn you on so much. 

_______________ 

Once again, you haven’t seen Jake around. 

He must have been extra cautious to ignore you especially after your previous incident. 

You hadn’t even heard him play his usual loud and obnoxious music anymore or him raging at his games. No one has come over since then either. You couldn’t understand why Jay coming over bothered him so much to the point where he changed up his whole routine, choosing to take on a rather silent stance. 

But he wasn’t here today. 

For the first time in 3 weeks, you were there for his absence in the apartment, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do. 

You wanted to finally see what his own space looked like. 

Maybe in the slightest way it would help you figure out the type of person he is, maybe you’d find something that’d help you understand why he is the way he is. 

You double checked, making sure that psycho wasn’t hiding somewhere, hoping he’d catch you in the act. But when you checked every possible spot, you quietly and slowly opened the door to his room, steadily taking in the space that was unveiled in front of you. 

Cream walls, gray curtains, a cheap wooden bed frame, no posters, pictures or plants, you truly expected something more, but there was no personality to the boys room. 

In some way that answered a handful of your questions about him; he just had nothing to himself. He was just a simple boy with a fucked up character and greasy keyboard. 

His desk was messy, a mixture of textbooks, used up tissues and a half-empty lotion, crumpled up pieces of paper and cables. Yet through the mess you managed to notice a note, your name written in capitals on the top of it. 

And well, a scrunched up, stained pair of your light pink, lacy panties. They were abandoned in the middle of all the tissues he disgustingly didn’t get rid of yet. 

Just when you thought he couldn’t get weirder, he somehow did. 

“There is no fucking way” you whispered to yourself, your mouth parted and eyes wide. 

You looked back and forth between the paper and your underwear, eventually grabbing at the note, narrowing your eyes as you began to read the contents. 

You skimmed through the bullet points; your full schedule written down on the paper with almost exact numbers as to when you leave and when you come back. These were the things you didn’t even know yourself. 

“You think about me a lot don’t you, Jakey” you murmured with an evil grin, not forgetting to snap a picture of it and send it to Minjeong. 

You decide to leave the now useless fabric where you found it, also deciding to leave it out of the conversation with your best friend. She had already freaked out over the schedule and if she found out your crazy roommate is also jerking off using your dirty laundry, she wouldn't waste a second moving all your things into her apartment personally. 

She replied swiftly, an arrangement of emojis decorating your home screen and a “WHAT THE FUCK, CALL ME ASAP?”. You smiled and put all his things back in place, leaving the horrid space Jake created for himself. 

“Hello? Y/n?” Minjeongs voice ringed in your ears as you called the girl. 

You decided to spend some time in the living room, waiting for Jake’s return. Your eyes were constantly plastered on the door in the end of the hallway, ears listening in for a turn of the key. 

“Yeah, I’m here” you laughed lightly, and that’s when Minjeong got her confirmation to start her full on blowout. 

“Move out of there as soon as possible, girl. That man is dangerous, I swear to god” she half screamed, and you just chuckled “You’re laughing? This doesn’t scare you, like at all?” she asked, and you thought about a reasonable reply, cause ‘He’s hot’ was definitely not going to make the cut for your best friend. 

“I can’t afford anything else Minjeong, you know that. He doesn’t bother me that much, it’s okay” you said in an attempt to calm the girl down. 

“I told you, you can come stay with me” she said calmly, and you let a stray breath out. 

“Min you know I love you, but I already told you I do not want to hear you banging Heeseung every other night” you smiled even though she couldn’t see you. 

“Personally, I’d rather listen to pornhub recreations than live under the same roof with a potential stalker” she said, and you laughed. At least she knew about her problem. 

“He’s not a stalker Min, he’s just weird. That’s all” you replied and she sighed. 

“You can’t fix him, Y/n” she said, and you scoffed playfully. 

“You can wait and see” you told her and she just hummed. 

“Before that happens, you'll be six feet under” she said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her overprotectiveness

The topic slowly faded when the seriousness turned into playful banter, the two of you discussing random topics and gossiping about every possible person that ever graced your campus. 

You didn’t leave the living room, not once, because according to Jake's precious and impressive schedule, you should be out now. Normally that would be true if not for the cancellation of your pilates class. Self-cancellation. 

As the keys turning and metal hitting the wooden door sound through the apartment, you hang up without further explanation, quietly running off to your room. 

If you stayed in the living room, upon noticing you, he'd practically bolt to his room, locking the door, once again, avoiding you. You were smarter than that. 

As soon as you heard him settle down, the sound of your old fridge being opened, and his quiet footsteps pacing around the kitchen, you pulled out your phone, the picture of his note staring back at you. You smile mischievously, phone in hand as you open the door, heading straight towards the kitchen, 

He looks slightly taken-aback and you know damn well why. He wasn't expecting you. You shouldn't be here for another 30 minutes- the perfect amount of time for him to shower and make dinner. He had precisely calculated all of this just so he could avoid useless encounters with you. 

“What is this?” your voice is taunting as he realizes what's displayed on your screen. 

All the blood drained from his face as he realized you entered his room and looked through all his things, possibly even read all the perverted thoughts he had about you that were scattered across his desk in the form of crumpled pieces of paper. He remembers exactly what he took from your dirty laundry basket and how much he enjoyed having the fabric wrapped around his thick shaft. 

“You went through my things ?” he asks, voice laced with anger as the reality of the situation comes down on him.   

You bark out a laugh, amused by his attempts to shift the blame on you “Oh and my panties, you can keep those. Hope they milk your short dick good” you smirk, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, the look of confidence on your face. 

Jake's expression darkens, a cruel grin twisting his lips as he moves closer to you, his face inches away from yours “You think you're so fucking clever, don't you? Going through my things, catching me in a little indiscretion and using it against me. Impressive” his voice is low as he laughs in your face. 

One of his hands moves to grip your chin, the look on his face menacing as he forces you to maintain eye contact “You're nothing but an entitled brat. I'm not some fucking pushover and you should know that by now. Weren't those rules enough? You just had to go and invade my privacy to feed your little ego. You knew what you’d find, didn't you?” he stares down at you intensely, his grip on your chin tightening, his thumb slowly brushing over your lower lip, his smile growing as he notices your silence. 

“Here's what will happen, okay? You’ll apologize for breaking my rules, send all your guests packing as soon as they show up on this doorstep, and we’ll never have this conversation again. You'll be a good little girl and listen to me from now on” he murmurs, his voice low as he trails his fingers along your jawline. 

“You look so hot when you get mad like this, Jakey” he looks caught off guard for a moment, before the low and seductive laugh parts his lips. 

“You think so?” he leans in closer, his breath hot on your skin, his voice down to a whisper as he continues “Then maybe we should put that dumb fucking mouth of yours to use and I'll show you just how hot I can get” 

A smirk spreads across Jake's face as his hands move down to grope your behind, giving it a firm squeeze, chuckling at your reaction. 

He moves to settle down at the edge of the couch, stripping off his shirt, presenting you with the view you’ve missed way more than you thought you did. His chiseled torso glistens under the lights, his belt buckle clinking as he undoes his pants, pushing them down. The fabric falls down to the floor almost instantly. 

He watches you intently as you smile up at him, his fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers, his movements slow and tantalizing. 

You’re enjoying this and he knows it too, watching from the way you slide down to your knees in front of him. 

“I knew you'd like this. Is this what you wanted?” he teases, his gaze never leaving yours as he watches your desperate pleas. 

When you nod, he laughs softly, finally pushing down his boxers, freeing his rigid erection “Show me how much you wanted it” 

He grips the base of his shaft, giving it a few slow strokes as he watches you, waiting for you to take him into your mouth. 

You grin at his heat and hardness, your fingers wrapping around his length. He pulses in your grasp, begging to fill your throat. You lean in, your gaze locked on his, running your tongue from base to tip, savoring the bitter taste of his precum. 

You slowly take him into your mouth, your lips stretching as you push his length further down your throat. You bob your head, the determination to bring him pleasure coursing through your veins. 

As your wet mouth accommodates his thick cock, a strangled groan escapes his lips “Yeah, fuck, don’t stop” 

His fingers thread through your hair, pushing you further down his shaft. He guides you as the sensation of your tongue around his sensitive tip brings him over the edge, his knees weak as he shakes with pleasure. 

“Keep going, suck me off good” he moans, his mouth parted as he continues to guide your head down his throbbing cock. 

As you pick up speed, your movements harder and faster, he can feel his body begging for release, the orgasm building in his stomach. 

He can barely keep his eyes open as he speaks, his voice strained “Fuck, I’m close" his heartbeat quickens "Gonna cum so hard down your throat you’ll never want to go against me again” 

His hips buck, as he tries to savor the last moments before his awaited release. With a hoarse cry, he loses himself in the feeling, spilling himself deep into your throat. 

His grip on your hair loosens, his eyes rolling back with pleasure “Swallow” he commands, his body shaking as he rides out his climax. 

With a contented hum, you comply, lapping up the last drops of his seed, the salty flavour coating your mouth. The rest of his release, mixed with your spit, coats your glistening lips, as you remove yourself off him. 

Jake watches you lick your lips before pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. His tongue moves along your mouth, his hands sliding up your shirt, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of your stomach. 

“Strip” he says, pulling away, watching you with an evil grin. 

As he watches you slowly and teasingly remove your thin shirt and shorts, his hand begins to slowly stroke his cock back to hardness, smearing the ramints of his own release and your saliva along his thick shaft. 

He sits down on plush comforters of the couch, tapping his lap for you. His body presses against you as you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“So pretty” he whispers, locking his eyes on you as he watches you subtly grind your hips on top of him. 

He pulls your head back, exposing you bare throat, his lips leaving a trail of bites and bruises on his way down to your collarbone. 

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel his wet lips on you “I need more” 

He smiles at your words “I’ll fuck you so good the only rule you’ll remember is how nice it is when you submit to me” 

Jake swiftly moves you down onto the cushions, his body looming over you as his hungry eyes wander over your body. His lips meet yours again, his hardness grinding against your wet core. 

He uses your wet slick as a lubricant, his cock sliding against your folds as he hisses at the sensation. 

“I fucked myself to the thought of you every night” his voice is rough with barley restrained lust as he notches himself at your entrance “Wanted to bury myself in this little cunt for so long” 

With a powerful thrust of his hips, Jake sheathes himself fully inside you, groaning as your tight heat elopes him. You breath out in ecstasy as he fills you completely, your inner walls clenching tightly around his thick length. 

Your back arches off the couch, as you hold onto his forearm, your nails digging into his skin “Shit, Jake. So fucking good” 

You start rolling your hips, meeting his every stroke, the sound of skin slapping against skin and loud gasps fill the once quiet apartment. 

Encouraged by your wanton pleas, his thrusts become erratic, hitting deep and hard. He pounds into you with a wild force, pressing you down in place, taking the pleasure from your willing body. 

“That’s right, take it all” he holds onto your hips, slamming you onto his length. 

You can’t even bother to reply to his comments, writhing beneath him as he uses your body for his own gratification. Each of his brutal movements sends you further over the edge, his pace almost demonic as your nails dig into his back, leaving red scratches along the surface. 

Jake feeling your trembling thighs and the way you clench around him, smiles evilly, slamming into you with precision, grinding his pelvis against your clit. 

“Cum on my cock” he speaks, his voice dark “Milk me for all I’m worth” 

With a piercing whine, you come undone under his dripping body, the orgasm crashing down on you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as with heavy pants, you ride out your intense climax. 

The feeling of your release and the sound of your name falling breathlessly from your lips, proves too much for him to handle “Gonna cum so fucking deep inside you” 

With a low, guttural moan Jake presses himself deep inside you one last time, and finds his own release, pumping his hot, thick cum directly into you. 

He finally collapses on top of you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his own, intense orgasm. Jake lies down next to you, your damp body sticking to his, as he threads his fingers through your hair. 

“Don’t go through my shit again, Y/n” he whispers, biting down on your earlobe. 

[limerlove]

KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.

KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.

wc. 7k+

rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.

Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 

Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 

Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 

She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 

She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 

No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 

Maybe she is just an asshole. 

“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 

As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 

“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 

“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 

Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 

Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 

This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 

It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 

Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 

But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 

“I’m not—” 

You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 

“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 

It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 

It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 

Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 

But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 

“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 

Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 

It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 

There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 

“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 

“Kind?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 

“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 

With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 

Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 

It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night. 

Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 

But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 

“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 

“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 

“Keeps the nightmares away.” 

All Vi does is nod. 

“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 

“What about yours?” 

“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 

“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 

Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 

You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 

You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 

You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 

You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 

“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 

“Is it true?” 

You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 

Hope. 

A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 

The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 

Vi likes you. 

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 

Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 

So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 

“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 

“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 

You chuckle at the pet name. 

“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 

“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 

— 

It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 

It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 

“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 

Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 

There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 

Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 

“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 

As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 

“I’m just a little—” 

“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  

It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 

Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 

Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 

All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 

Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 

The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 

“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone. 

“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 

“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 

All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 

“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 

“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 

Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 

Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 

With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 

In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 

Oil and water. 

Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.

All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 

But this? It feels easy. 

She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 

Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 

When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 

A sinner always craves more. 

She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 

The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 

“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 

You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 

“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 

You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 

“What is it?” 

“Was it your first time? The first night?” 

Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 

“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 

“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 

“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 

“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 

“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 

It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 

If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 

Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 

She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 

Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 

One night. 

Then two. 

Now three. 

In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 

“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 

“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 

“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 

It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 

Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 

“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 

The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 

“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 

You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 

“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 

“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 

She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 

Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

“I promise.” 

Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 

She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 

“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 

She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 

“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 

She’s still shy. 

Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 

“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 

“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 

“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 

You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 

“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 

In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 

Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 

But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 

“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 

“Mommy, please.” 

Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 

Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 

Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 

“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 

It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 

The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 

When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 

Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 

“I could go again.” 

You chuckle. Of course she could. 

“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 

It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 

With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 

[kflixnet]

[MDNI] New to KFLIXNET: Check out our member Mitchie's smut oneshot!

Before you started dating Seungcheol, you had been best friends with him for all of your life. Simultaneously, Seungcheol has been best friends with Jeonghan - whom you despise. He has been your rival since first grade and not just in terms of Seungcheol’s friendship but everything else too. Academics, sports, and now the attention of one very special professor who could open every door you ever wished to open…

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader x Jeonghan Genre: Smut, Comedy, established relationship, enemies/rivals to lovers, academic rivals, Warnings: Mentions of food, Jeonghan and reader are mean to each other (lol), pet names (sweetheart, darling, princess), poly themes  Smut Warnings: Car sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, manhandling, degradation (usage of the word: slut) Word Count: 7.2k Rating: Mature/Explicit A/N: Hello, hello! This one goes out to @svtiddiess! I am your secret valentine, hehe. I hope you like it!! Had so much fun writing this so thank you for hosting this fun collab @ddeonghwa-s, you were amazing at organizing it <3 Also big shoutouts to my beta readers: @c-oupsie, @chanranghaeys & @gyubakeries, I loved all of your comments and input, thank you so much! and of course, once again big thanks to @aaagustd for the absolute masterpiece of a banner!

The cake smashing into your face was vanilla-flavoured. Most of it dropped to the floor two seconds after hitting you, but there was still a good amount of cream left all over your face. 

How wonderful.

More cakes were flying around the room, joined by other types of food and you moved aside to shove the remaining dessert off your face, knowing exactly who had thrown it at you and started this whole thing. 

Yoon fucking Jeonghan. 

He stood a few meters away from you, a smug grin on his face as not even a single piece of food was on him. It looked like a shot in a music video; so many different dishes flying above and behind him, cupcakes and hors d'oeuvres, and even a whole lasagna. Somehow, none were aimed at him and none missed their target. 

Shaking with rage, you looked to your side and found a perfectly fine-looking dish of tiramisu standing on the table. You grinned as you picked it up. 

Jeonghan watched the tiramisu fly. He wasn’t quick enough to move out of the way as it landed right where you had aimed—his annoyingly pretty face. 

“What on earth is going on?!” Seungcheol’s voice disrupted the moment and you were snapped out of the trance you’ve been in. Instead, it made room for the bitter reality of about 30 students throwing around and wasting perfectly fine food. 

The towel in your lap was full of vanilla cream and felt extremely heavy - just like the rest of you. Seungcheol was pacing back and forth, his arms crossed and one hand resting on his chin. He looked troubled, he was troubled, and for good reason. His best friend and his girlfriend had once again proven themselves as nutcases. 

“Just—” you started, but one look from him and you shut your mouth, pressing your lips together tightly. Your eyes quickly shot to Jeonghan sitting on the other side of the small office with a bored expression on his face. 

Oh, great. Your relationship was crumbling and he was bored!

“So, let me get this straight.” Seungcheol finally began speaking and your eyes darted back to him.

“I leave the reception for my graduation for five minutes and you two start a food fight?”

“He started it!” 

“You made me!”

“Oh my god!” Seungcheol threw his hands in the air. “Frankly, I don’t care who started this. All I care about is that I needed the two of you to behave like human beings around each other just for one evening. I just wanted to take my girlfriend out for this special occasion and have my best friend join us without any drama. Just once!” 

His eyes were burning on your skin and you couldn’t help but lower your gaze, feeling your cheeks heat up from shame. He was right. 

“Look, Cheol, I love you and all, but did you really think this was gonna work?” Jeonghan sighed, getting up from his chair and throwing the used towel on top of it, “She infuriates me just by existing.”

What a fucking douche. 

Seungcheol took a deep breath.

“Jeonghan. You’re my best friend, you know that. But she’s my girlfriend and I truly do not give a fuck about any past rivalries. I just…god, I just need you two to act like adults. If not for the sake of each other then at least for the sake of me!” 

The scoff Jeonghan let out made your blood boil. You knew Seungcheol was right and the fact that Jeonghan was so blatantly ignoring that… 

You stood up as well, stalking over to the two men.

“I’m sorry, Cheol. You’re right. This wasn’t okay, we shouldn’t have started a food fight.”

Carefully, you tried to reach for his hand, but he hesitated, his pretty eyes not yet convinced. 

“The two of you have to get over this grudge, or whatever the fuck is going on between you two. I don’t care if you do it by talking it out or fucking it out, but please. Just get it done.”

He turned around then, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind him. 

It was silent for a while, just you and Jeonghan staring at the door with your jaws dropped and your cheeks hot. Did Seungcheol just—did he really say that? Something you couldn’t really describe began to form in your stomach, something like an ache mixed with need, and you began to shift from one foot to the other, not daring to look at Jeonghan. 

Only when the man left in the room began to speak, did you let yourself gaze upon him.

“Did he really just suggest we fuck it out?” He asked, his head slowly turning to face you. 

“Yup.” You nodded. 

“Does he—? Do you—does that like, ever happen?” He continued, scratching the back of his neck.

“What? That I fuck someone I hate?” Your eyebrows rose and Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“No, dumbass, that you fuck other people, period.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” Fiercely, you turned back around and walked over to the chair you sat on earlier, grabbing your purse.

“My best friend just offered me to fuck his girlfriend, I think it does concern me.”

Throwing your purse over your shoulder, you let out a scoff. 

“Don’t be silly, Jeonghan,” you moved back to him, your eyes meeting his with a small smirk on your lips, “we both know you can’t handle me.”

Jeonghan’s mouth dropped once more, watching you, the girl he despised more than anything, walk out of the room and leave him with absolutely nothing to say. 

Two weeks later, Seungcheol had finally gotten over the whole ordeal at his graduation reception. No one had really figured out who had started the food fight, so a punishment for the students had fallen through. Instead, cleaning personnel had been called in to get rid of the mess in the Eisenhower ballroom. Perks of attending a private university. 

Getting your usual vanilla matcha latte from the small coffee shop inside the economics building, you listened to your best friend Seungkwan’s story about this guy he met at a club who just so happened to become the best one-night stand of his life.

“You don’t understand,” he said, “I need to see him again or I will die!” 

Chuckling, you thanked the barista handing you your drinks.

“I doubt you’ll die, Kwan.”

He sighed.

“No, I will, I swear. How can I go on like this? Knowing I’ll never get dicked down that good again?”

“You didn’t get his insta or something?” Pushing open the door, you were greeted by the mild air of spring. 

“No! That’s the issue, he doesn’t do two-night stands. He literally just fucks once and dips.”

You clicked your tongue. 

“Sorry to hear that. Oh, did I tell you I finally heard back from Professor Jones?”

Professor William Percival Jones was the professor for international management. No one had ever come close to his level of expertise in the last twenty years. It was every student’s dream to be accepted into his internship program which only held one spot every semester. And while this term was almost over, the spot for the next had suddenly been posted again, so of course you had to apply!

Seungkwan didn’t seem too happy about the change of topic but he allowed it considering how important the whole Professor Jones topic was to you.

“And?” He asked, taking a sip from his white chocolate mocha. 

“I’m in the next round!” You grinned widely, remembering the e-mail you got just last night. You had celebrated with Seungcheol—dinner, a movie, and you on all fours getting what you deserve.

“Congrats, bestie!” Seungkwan gave you a side hug, smiling at you, “You deserve it. Do you know who else is in the run?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. Gonna find out later this afternoon for the interview prep. But I’m not too worried about competition. How good can they be?”

Yoon fucking Jeonghan was the one to greet you when you walked into the interview prep room at 4pm sharp. Of fucking course.

“Oh, Y/N, fancy seeing you here,” his smirk told you well enough he already knew you were coming. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mumbled as you sat down on the chair next to him. There was no one else here besides the two of you. 

“We’re the only two people who made it to round two,” Jeonghan explained, crossing his legs, “didn’t Cheol tell you?”

Cheol knew?! It was by pure self-restraint you didn’t jump Jeonghan and strangle him. 

“I fear he forgot with all the sex he got last night,” you put on your most innocent smile, “How’s that going for you by the way?”

Jeonghan didn’t even seem fazed by your words. He just looked at you with yet another one of his bored expressions.

“How cute of you to think I don’t get to fuck whomever I like.”

Something about the way he said those words…they brought back that feeling from two weeks ago, when Seungcheol had asked you two to fuck it out if necessary. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze, hating yourself for the way your cheeks began to heat up. 

Thankfully, Jeonghan didn’t get to say anything else when the door opened and Professor Jones’ current intern walked in. You thought to remember his name being Vernon. He stalked over to the desk at the front, basically throwing his bag onto it.

“Congrats, you two are the finalists for the internship position,” he said, his sheer lack of enthusiasm almost comical. 

He leaned against the desk now, a stack of papers in his hands. You watched him with slightly raised brows, wondering how on earth he got this job when he, judging from what you’re seeing right now, doesn’t even want to be here. 

“The interview process won’t be as lengthy as it usually is, considering it’s already for next term. Please don’t ask me why Professor Jones isn’t just asking the intern for the term after to take over, it truly is beyond me. Anyway, it will still be hard and time-consuming. Normally, it would be at least one month of tasks you need to hand in, research, as well as possible curriculum changes. Anything innovative, basically.” 

Vernon returned to you and Jeonghan, giving both of you half of the stack of papers he’d been holding. 

“This file is basically your timetable as well as your tasks for the next two weeks. I hope you don’t have any other deadlines left this term or you’re, how should I say this, fucked.” He presented you with something like a pained smile. You felt the strange need to pat his head. 

“Is that all?” Jeonghan asked, still that god-forsaken bored tone in his voice. Vernon shook his head, walking back over to the desk. 

“Nope. Still got a surprise up my sleeve,” he turned around and opened his bag, pulling out yet another little stack of papers. Jesus, couldn’t they have e-mailed? What about the trees?

“Surprise quiz, woohoo.” 

His woohoo sounded as dry as leaves in summer. 

“Are you serious?” Jeonghan snorted, “A quiz?”

“Yup. To evaluate your knowledge on all things international management.”

Vernon handed out the two pages each (with the backs also containing questions) to the two of you and checked his watch.

“You have forty-five minutes. Good luck.”

It was worse enough being in almost every class with Jeonghan, but having to be in the same interview process was definitely going to take the cake. It had barely even started and it already felt like a competition—who was gonna finish the quiz first and who was going to do better? 

Time seemed to fly by; answering all the questions to your best ability while checking on how far Jeonghan was, or at least estimating, considering he wasn’t close enough for you to get a good look at his paper. 

“Five minutes left,” Vernon said then, sitting comfortably at the desk, his legs on top of it. He had been scrolling through his phone the whole time, once again making you question how on earth he had gotten this job. Had he really been through this same process? Seemed highly unlikely, if you were honest.

Quickly, you checked your answers again to see if you really hadn’t missed anything in terms of spelling, grammar, or content. 

Just as you were about to get up, Jeonghan one-upped you and handed in his finished quiz to Vernon with one swift motion. Fuck those gorgeous long legs.

Grinding your teeth, you got up as well, giving Vernon your quiz approximately two seconds after Jeonghan. You tried to ignore the gloating look on his handsome face.

“Great. You’re dismissed then. I’ll email you about the results sometime tomorrow.”

How specific. Without saying goodbye, you grabbed your bag from the floor next to your desk, beginning to walk out and groaning when Jeonghan suddenly appeared right next to you.

“And once again I beat you. Doesn’t it get tiresome to always lose against me, sweetheart?”

Pure red anger made its way through your system. 

“Doesn’t it get tiresome to always be an asshole, sweetheart?” 

Jeonghan laughed raspily and for whatever reason you felt it right there in the lower part of your stomach. “Oh, darling. Assholes make it the furthest in life, haven’t you heard? They also finish quizzes first and leave pretty little things like you behind.”

Pretty little things?! 

The two of you had barely made it out of the classroom when you swirled around to face him, your eyebrows knitted together and clear anger displayed on your face.

“Never would have guessed you’re proud of finishing first, Yoon,” you smiled, “but looking at you, I’m not surprised you are.”

He was in your space before you could blink.

“Believe me, princess, this quiz and the finish line would be the only things I’d finish first. In any other situation and especially in the one you’re thinking of right now, I would make sure to be the last to finish. I’d make sure you finish first, quicker and better than anyone else before."

Oh. 

What?

Jeonghan’s lips were right by your ear and his hands found their place on the small of your back, and it was embarrassing how much this turned you on. 

“You—You’re disgusting,” you somehow stuttered out and Jeonghan smirked again, parting from you and meeting his gaze with yours.

“Sure I am, Y/N. But so are you, isn’t that right?” 

God, if only he would take those damn hands off your body and go far, far away. And if only you could speak, open your mouth, and say anything, really, anything at all! But it was like he had caught you in a trap, made you forget all your words and thoughts and replaced them with want. 

“I love to see that I still have an effect on you, darling.” His face was so slapable right now. Smirk and arrogance and hotness that made you wanna scream.

“Are you turned on right now, hm? Wish for me to touch you? Maybe do what Seungcheol asked of us?” His breath on your face was almost enough for you to snap and just give in. But this urge was foreign. Foreign because it never made it past the wet dreams you immediately suppressed once you woke up. Never in a million years were you going to let him win, never would you ever let him know he did in fact have this effect on you, even now, even when you were with Seungcheol.

“Fuck off.” Finally, you managed to push him away. It wasn’t exactly with grace how you ran away from him, leaving him behind with the smirk never leaving his lips and the heat never leaving your body.

The heat hadn’t left you even an hour later when you found yourself in the backseat of Seungcheol’s car, his cock straining against his jeans and your thigh. 

“Fuck, baby, what got you so worked up?” Cheol groaned when you bit his earlobe and shoved his jeans down finally. 

“Stop talking, just fuck me, please.” 

Your lips met his again and Cheol was happy to oblige. His huge hands grabbed your hips and pushed you further back, easily slipping between your thighs. He was bare now except for his briefs and he placed his bulge right between your drenched lips. The friction caused you to moan and gush another wave of slick into your panties.

Your boyfriend moved to shove his fingers beneath the fabric, swearing when he felt just how wet you were. Still obeying you, he didn’t say anything and instead pressed two of his fingers into you. You arched your back, your fingers finding the back of his neck.

“God, yes.” 

He began to thrust into you with his fingers, lips finding yours once more as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. You happily accepted him, your own tongue beginning a fiery dance with his, all thoughts of Jeonghan slowly ebbing away. 

Just that when you thought about how they were ebbing away…his words suddenly came right back to you.

“Are you turned on right now, hm? Wish for me to touch you? Maybe do what Seungcheol asked of us?”

Shit, he was so hot. So hot and infuriating and, fuck, Seungcheol just hit your sweet spot perfectly. You whimpered, nails digging into his skin and he chuckled lowly against your lips.

“Need your cock, please, please, please.”

Your desperation was out of the roof and Seungcheol felt himself twitch in his briefs, shoving them down the next second. His cock sprung free, angry and red at the tip with drops of precum inviting you to take it into your mouth. But there was no time, no, you needed to get this out of your system now.

You moved your fingers down, shoving your panties down your legs.

“God, so eager, my love,” Seungcheol smirked, jerking his cock off as he watched you. 

“Yeah, need you now, Cheolie, please.” You panted, and when he finally lined up his tip with your core, it almost felt like an ascension to you. 

As he pushed his whole length into you, Cheol wondered how it could feel this good every fucking time. Your pussy gripped him right away, sucked him in, made him feel like no other ever had. You were perfect for him, that was for sure.

When he thrusted for the first time, you moaned his name loudly, which only spurred him on. His hands grabbed your hips and your legs found their way around his back, his hips now beginning to move at a relentless pace. If you wanted to be fucked, oh he would gladly fulfill that want. 

There were going to be marks left on his back, you were sure of it. Your nails dragged along his smooth skin as he fucked you, the windows slowly but surely beginning to fog up. 

“Yes, fuck, just like that!” You cried out when he hit that sensitive part within you perfectly. He groaned and nodded, trying his best to continue fucking you just like that. 

“You like that, hm? Getting fucked in the university parking lot? Couldn’t even wait ‘til we got home, my little slut?”

“N-no! Couldn’t wait, needed your cock right now, Cheolie!” 

You said his name and had his cock inside of you, and while you loved him and the way he fucked you—right now, you weren’t really thinking about him. It was horrible and wrong, but you couldn’t help but wonder about Jeonghan and his words. He had said he’d be able to make you come better and quicker than anyone else. Was that true? Could he fuck you better than Seungcheol did right now? Hold you down the way Seungcheol was, drag his cock along your walls at the same speed and with the same delicious force? 

“Fuck, you’re so tight and wet, baby, gonna make me cum,” Seungcheol moved forward, his hands now next to your head as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, moaning and groaning at the way you felt around him. 

Would Jeonghan sound like that? Desperate and breathless as he fucked you? The image of Jeonghan on top of you filled your mind and made your breath hitch, your pussy squeezing hard around Seungcheol and bringing him over the edge, his cock twitching as he thrusted once, twice, and finally emptying inside of you. Ropes of white painted your insides, leaving you hot and wanting more. Thankfully, Cheol didn’t stop, no, he picked up the pace once more and finally, with the thought of Jeonghan cumming inside of you, you felt your orgasm rush over you, a high-pitched moan accompanying your high. 

Cheol collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving. 

Then, after some silence, Cheol slowly raised his head.

“Did you… just say Jeonghan’s name?”

The first task on your and Jeonghan’s list was easy enough: prepare a presentation on a specific topic and present it in front of Professor Jones, Vernon, and your competitor. Professor Jones had picked out topics for the two of you which made the whole ordeal even easier. No research of your own for a perfect topic, just good old finding information on the web and in the library.

The distraction was welcome, especially after that horrific incident in Seungcheol’s car where you had, well, done what you did. The thing about it that irked you the most was that Seungcheol wasn’t even mad at you. No, he had laughed at you. Laughed for days. He had even brought it up the next time you had sex, asking if you wished Jeonghan was here to see how good you were behaving for him. Like, hello? How could he do this to you! 

(It didn’t matter at all that you had cried out a yes and begged Seungcheol to let Jeonghan watch you get fucked. No, that wasn’t important at all!)

You threw yourself into work for three days straight, the fourth being the day of the presentation. And it all went perfectly, smoothly even, without any problems - until the day of the presentation came and the powerpoint on the screen was not the powerpoint you had worked on for hours on end. 

Projected onto the whiteboard in front of one of your idols, Vernon, and Jeonghan was a presentation that most likely had been made by a fourth-grader. Rainbow-colored Comic Sans wrote out the topic with pictures of unicorns around it forming a heart. This has got to be a joke.

And when you looked at your small audience, horrified and confused, you asked yourself how you hadn’t figured this out right away.

Jeonghan was smiling. Smiling as evil as the devil, if not worse. He had done this—swapped out your presentation at some point when you hadn’t been looking. Ice runs through your veins when you remember last night at the library, when you had left to go to the bathroom one more time before heading home, your laptop still propped on the desk. Jeonghan had been there too, further away, but not too far to come over and switch out presentations while you were gone. 

You were going to kill him. 

“Miss, what exactly am I looking at right now?” Professor Jones asked, adjusting the specs on top of his nose. You opened your mouth but closed it again. 

“I—Sir, this is, uhm—” You sure as hell couldn't just blame Jeonghan. There was no proof and you’d sound absolutely bonkers. So, instead you clicked the next slide and found the table of contents. It had the same font and colors as the slide before, the transition between this and the last slide being a tornado. Oh good fucking lord.

Professor Jones wasn’t happy and didn’t let you finish the presentation. Instead, Jeonghan was the one to outshine you right away and you felt like your whole life was over. 

But it wasn’t over. Neither your life nor this interview process and there was only one way to go on. 

This meant war. 

Jeonghan stood in front of you and Vernon, and Professor Jones was going off on him. You tried your very best to hide the smirk wanting to creep onto your lips. 

“How on earth can it be that you’re sending me pornography, Mr. Yoon, instead of your research essay? Do you even know how inappropriate and unprofessional that is?!” 

Ah yes, if Jeonghan thought he could swap out your presentation without any repercussions, he had thought very, very wrong. One moment of Seungcheol distracting his friend and, voilá, the attachment to his e-mail addressed to Professor Jones was conveniently swapped out to a doc full of naughty pictures. 

“This is a fail, Mr. Yoon, I hope you are aware!” Professor Jones pointed at the free chair and Jeonghwan walked over and sat back down, defeated. 

“How could this happen?” Vernon leaned to the side, looking at Jeonghan with genuine confusion. 

Instead of answering, Jeonghan slowly looked up and turned his head to you. When his eyes met yours, you knew that he was well aware of how that could happen. Giving him a sweet smile, you prepared yourself to present your essay instead of Jeonghan. 

This game between the two of you went on for the rest of the interview process. Jeonghan switched out the documents you were supposed to bring to the professor with a study on infidelity in unhappy marriages, knowing very well that Professor Jones’ wife had cheated on him three years ago. You told Jeonghan the wrong topic for your shared presentation, having him be completely clueless about the actual theme and standing in front of Professor Jonesand Vernon like a fool while you, conveniently, knew everything about each of your parts. 

After that sacred moment of Jeonghan storming out once you were dismissed, you grinned to yourself proudly. Seungkwan walked in just then, looking after Jeonghan with his brows raised. He was well aware of the game you two had going on and was on a bet with Cheol about how long it would take the two of you to finally give in and just do it. 

“I’ll be right there!” You waved at your best friend and he waved back, his eyes roaming the classroom he hadn’t been in before. Just that, besides you, there was another person he surely had been in before. And vice versa. 

“Hansol?” He said, his eyes wide. Hansol—Vernon, looked up from his notes and his eyes widened.

“Seungkwan?” 

Your eyes darted between the two, confusion displayed on your face. How on earth did they know each other? Wait, did he say Hansol?!

Professor Jones bid his goodbyes as well and left the room, just at the right time.

“Vernon is the best sex you’ve ever had?!” You almost yelled in disbelief, your thumb pointing at the intern behind you. 

“Dude!” Seungkwan gave you an annoyed look, obviously asking why the heck you had to air that out in front of him. 

“Wait, Vernon?” His face changed to confusion, much like yours earlier. 

Meanwhile, Hansol-slash-Vernon packed his bag and swung it over his shoulder, a grin on his face.

“Best sex of your life, huh?” He walked over to Seungkwan, catching him off guard.

“I—well,uh,” Seungkwan didn’t know what to answer. He was too mesmerized by seeing him again, the man who had not left his brain, who he could not stop thinking about.

“Wanna grab dinner with me?” Vernon asked now, licking over his lips, his eyes darting to Seungkwan’s. 

“Actually, we—”

“I’d love to!” Seungkwan interrupted you and, without giving you even another look, left the room with Vernon.  

Wow, what about bros before hoes, huh? Oh, well. Not your problem. 

What was your problem, though, was when you stopped in front of the closed door of the usual meeting room two days later and found a note pinned to it, telling you and Jeonghan to meet Professor Jones in his office instead of prep today. 

Shit. 

You arrived after Jeonghan, who was already seated on one of the chairs in front of Professor Jones’ grand mahogany desk. 

“Wonderful, please take a seat.” Professor Jones leaned back in his chair, eyeing you and Jeonghan with one of his eyebrows raised. 

After you did as asked, he clicked his tongue.

“I have been doing this job for twenty years and never during all this time have I encountered a pair quite like you,” he said, “Two of the brightest students in this field, maybe even this university, and yet that fact gets tainted by the rivalry you have going on. I don’t believe you two to be gullible enough to think I wouldn’t notice. Swapping out presentations and attachments to emails? Telling each other lies so the other looks a fool? We’re in university, I shall remind you, not kindergarten.” He rose from his chair. 

“Sir—” Jeonghan began, but Jones held up his hand and made him halt.

“I am sure the two of you would both be capable interns next semester. Judging by the assignments you did hand in, as well as your grades and presentation skills, you might even be the best interns I’ll ever have. Still, this behaviour is unacceptable.”

He walked over to you and Jeonghan, his eyes scanning the two of you with severity.

“Which is why I have decided to let the two of you make that choice for me.”

All the blood drained from your face.

“What do you mean?” You asked, even though you were already sure of the answer. Professor Jones chuckled slightly.

“Oh, I think you already know, Miss. You and Mr. Yoon will decide who gets to be my intern next year. And while you’re at it, you will also resolve whatever problem you have with each other. I give you,” he looked at the clock hanging above the bookcase to your right, “exactly forty-five minutes. Good luck.” 

Just as he was beginning to walk to the door, he turned around again.

“Ah, and if you don’t get to a conclusion, neither of you will become my intern. Just in case you were thinking of a loophole.”

He winked at the two of you, before finally leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. 

Jeonghan and you stayed seated in silence for a while, contemplating the situation. This wasn’t really happening. He didn’t just lock you into his office (no, he did, you definitely heard a key turn) to talk it out.

You hadn’t been alone with Jeonghan since that day when he…well, when he had done that and you had, uh, done Seungcheol. 

“What a cheeky little bastard,” Jeonghan mumbled now, getting out of the chair and pulling his hand over his chin. You watched him walk around the room, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach mixed with the urge to press him against a bookshelf and kiss him breathless. 

You know the pit isn’t because of the fear of Seungcheol being mad at you for these thoughts. No, you know he is totally on board with you and Jeonghan fucking it out and…getting it done. It’s just that in all the years you’ve known Jeonghan he has always been your rival. Starting in first grade and lasting until now. How could you let yourself feel this way about someone you loathed? Or were supposed to loathe? 

“Maybe he’s right,” you found yourself saying, heat back in your face, “Maybe we do need to talk this out.”

“What? Come on, don’t fall for this. This surely is another task. Yeah, I know I am great and I guess you’re fine too, but making this our final task? What the fuck is wrong with him?”

You stood up, hands balling to fists at your sides.

“You guess I’m fine too?” You repeated, scoffing at him, “I know your head is deep up your own ass, but you have got to give me some credit, Jeonghan. If it wasn’t for us having the same capabilities, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

It stung you when he laughed, his hands pulling through his hair.

“Oh really? We’re the same amount of capable? For fuck’s sake, Y/N, you switched out my essay with porn!

”And you switched my presentation out and made it look like a goddamn fourth grader made it!” You threw back at him, your eyes glaring at his face that looks just as angry as you feel.

“At least that didn’t involve fucking porn!”

“Don’t go and paint yourself as the victim, Yoon Jeonghan, you started this whole thing!”

“I did? I started this?!” He laughed again, “You can’t be serious. This is all your fault! You were the one who told Mrs. Perkins I had a cheat sheet underneath my desk in first grade!”

Your face grimaces in confusion. “Excuse me? I’m pretty sure you told the class I was still wetting my bed way before that happened.”

“Absolutely not. That happened after the cheating incident!”

There was nothing else for you to do than scoff time and time again. He was spewing utter nonsense! He had started this whole thing back in elementary school, not you. Definitely not you. 

“I can’t believe you’re trying to pin this on me, Jeonghan, you’re such an asshole.”

“Yeah, we have established that, sweetheart, many, many times before.”

“Stop calling me that,” you took a step forward, your finger pointing at Jeonghan and heat basically radiating off your body. Jeonghan clicked his tongue.

“What? Sweetheart? You don’t like it?” He stepped closer too and just the same amount of heat was radiating off him. 

“Do I look like I like it?” You asked back, staring at his face that somehow came closer with every passing second.

“Do you want me to give you an honest answer to that? Or just lie to keep up the picture that you’re not even slightly attracted to me?”

Your breath got stuck in your throat and your eyes widened at his words. How could he! 

“I am not! I—I am not attracted to you, Yoon Jeonghan, I hate you!”

“Oh, yes, and I hate you.” Somehow he was right in your space then, his breath hitting your face, “But that doesn’t cancel out the fact that I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

And then he kissed you. 

Kissed you with every emotion he had ever felt for you: hate, envy, lust, love. Something within you snapped then, snapped and showed you a whole new world, a world in which this was your normal, your everyday. The realization was soon clouded by pure want, your fingers somehow ending up in his blonde strands, his body pressed flush against yours.

The kiss seemed endless and still not long enough, your hearts beating at the same speed when he pressed you against the large desk behind you. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered when his hands found their way from your back to your face, holding you so lovingly it made your knees weak. 

Then, he changed courses. The softness turned hard, his hands wandering once more, back down and onto your ass, and your core met his, a small gasp escaping against his lips when you felt just how hard the softness had turned. He smirked before he deepened the kiss, pressing his body closer to yours, as close as humanly possibly. 

Never would you have imagined the breaking point to happen inside Professor Jones’ office, and he probably didn’t expect this either when he locked the two of you in. 

Jeonghan’s tongue was exploring your mouth now, licking against your own and causing goosebumps all over your body. So distracted by his lips, you only faintly noticed him lifting you onto the desk, neither of you caring about the cup with pens falling over when your ass hit the surface. 

He stood in between your legs now, hands roaming over your legs while his mouth moved over your lips down to your chin and finally along your neck. Softly moaning, you shoved his jacket off his shoulders, waiting for it to hit the ground before you began to unbutton his dark green dress shirt. He sucked on your skin, licked over the spot and moved on, nimble fingers moving underneath your skirt to touch your sensitive skin.

“How wet are you right now, sweetheart?” He breathed then, a shiver running down your spine.

Not waiting for you to answer, he let his fingers slip underneath your soaked panties, his breath getting stuck in his throat when he felt how drenched you were.

“Fuck.” His lips found yours again, pulling you into yet another perfectly heated kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pushed your hips forward, inviting him to fill you with his fingers. Really, you needed him to touch you or you’d probably die on the spot. 

As if he had read your mind, he let his fingers glide through your folds before finally letting one of them sink into you, licking over your lips when he did and making you cry out in pleasure.

“Aren’t you a sensitive one,” he whispered, kissing you again. Had kissing always been this fun?

He began to thrust his finger inside you slowly, your panties being slightly in the way. Only when you began to whimper desperately, did Jeonghan take a few seconds to pull them down your legs, all while holding eye contact. You feared he was a little insane. 

Back between your thighs, his hand grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you against him. Another kiss lured you into his embrace and your body began to shake when his other hand reached your core again, fingers softly sliding through your lips. 

“Please, Jeonghan, please,” you pleaded against his lips then and he bit down on his own bottom lip when he finally pushed in two of his pretty long fingers. Your moan was only held back because he kissed you. 

The pace changed yet again. He fucked you hard and fast with his fingers, while his tongue danced with yours, all of your thoughts consumed by him and him and only him. But you wanted more, wanted him fully, wanted to feel him inside you. Feel him throbbing and wanting and twitching. And so, your hands moved to his belt, quickly opening it as if you had done this a million times before. 

He didn’t respond verbally, instead he helped you shove down his pants and briefs, his hard cock springing free. You allowed yourself to part from him for a second, admiring his length and biting down on your lip. The second was over soon enough when Jeonghan pulled his fingers out of you and instead grabbed his cock, bringing it to your dripping, waiting core. 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this.” Jeonghan’s voice sounded like music to your ears and you pulled him closer by the nape, pressing another kiss to his mouth.

“I think I have an idea.” You grinned.

When he sank into you, his eyes were still fixed on yours and both your mouths hung open, ragged breathing coming out of them. And when he finally bottomed out, his forehead pressed against yours, neither of you could stop the moans from coming out. 

His first thrust made the desk shake and the ones that followed did too. He felt insanely good inside you, filling you up just the perfect amount. The air around you felt hot and you held on for dear life, fingers digging into his nape as he fucked you rough and hard, hands on the small of your back. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he breathed, lips finding your neck again. You threw your head back, legs fully wrapping around his waist now, his cock seeming to sink even deeper into you.

“And you fuck me so good,” you replied in a moan and he groaned, picking up the pace. 

Not even for a second did either of you question the sounds of the desk, maybe causing people outside to be concerned. Too focused were the two of you on the way it felt to finally give into the tension that had built up for years and years.

“Yeah? Like how I fuck you on our professor’s desk? Like a naughty little slut?” 

“Fuck, yeah,” Your pussy clenched around him and he chuckled, another hard thrust making the desk shake. 

He was relentless, perfect, and just…everything. Maybe it was all of the anticipation or maybe it was just the insane arousal, but it felt better than almost anything you had ever felt. 

You couldn’t stop the moans and the pleas for more, couldn’t help the climax that was nearing with every thrust. And when he brought his thumb down and began rubbing circles onto your clit, you most certainly couldn’t help the orgasm rushing over your body, your pussy spasming around his cock over and over again, begging him to fill you, to pump his cum into your awaiting heat. 

Jeonghan came inside of you after three more thrusts and just in time for the door to open and Professor Jones hurrying in, Vernon in tow. 

“What the actual fuck?!” 

You had never heard the Professor curse before. You doubted anyone had ever heard him curse before. Well, shit.

Neither you nor Jeonghan ended up getting the internship, which was fine. All that really mattered was that Jones didn’t tell the dean and had you expelled. Perhaps Vernon had convinced him that it was basically his fault, too. If he hadn’t locked you in, you wouldn’t have fucked on his desk. Simple as that. 

And in reality, Professor Jones wasn’t the scary part about the whole story, it was the fact you and Jeonghan had fucked and not just fucked but also felt as you fucked. So, yeah. It hadn’t been just sexual tension between the two of you. As much as you would have pretended it was, you couldn’t really do that anymore. 

Not when he began to spend more time with Seungcheol and you, not when Seungcheol was so clearly on board with the idea of Jeonghan being a part of your life the same way he was. You had never allowed yourself to think of the situation with Jeonghan as anything more than attraction, and having this now…it felt like all the puzzle pieces had suddenly found their way together. 

“I told you so,” Seungcheol said when you finally admitted to Jeonghan being your boyfriend. And when you rolled your eyes and looked at the new addition to the relationship humming a tune in the kitchen, you couldn’t even really be mad at him.

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

[kamitv]

▷ Holiday Headcanons

Synopsis . Things your jjk partner does during the holidays! / Pairings . (Separate) Gojo x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Sukuna x f!reader, Ino x f!reader, Yuki x f!reader, Shoko x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, modern au, fluff, creampies, soft sex, rough sex, filth, breeding, bondage, choking, oral sex, praise, dirty talk, sfw content, etc . / wc . idk ngl...!

A/N: Merry Christmas Ladies & Gentlemen! This isn’t proofread so please excuse any errors. Thank you guys sm for 7k on this account!! I hope you all have a wonderful day/night!! <33 [MDNI]

❅ Gojo Satoru

NSFW

Who's first present to you comes early in the morning at the ass crack of dawn, consisting of his warm breath caressing the shell of your ear as he rasps a needy plead—aching to get a taste of you to start his Christmas off "properly."

Naturally, you let Gojo get what he wants since that’s one less gift you have to worry about. That, and it’s a gift that just keeps on giving because as soon as he’s settled in between your legs, he’s smiling from ear to ear and swallowing down the drool that threatens to spill past his eager lips.

And when he finally latches that heavenly mouth of his onto you? Oh it’s over. He’s so glad he woke up early for this because nothing could pull him away from the honeyed slick of your cunt at this very moment—not even the perfectly wrapped presents awaiting the two of you just out in your shared living room.

Part of what has him so feral once his tongue is on you is probably the lacy festive blue panties you decided to sleep with. They match his eyes and there’s this pretty bow in the center… unfortunately, he was too caught up on trying to get your pussy against his tongue to admire the fabric longer. Now the garment lays in tatters just a few inches away from your quivering legs that dangle so prettily over his shoulders.

SFW

Had a snowball fight with you seconds after the first speck of white came falling from the sky.

Who spent weeks making sure that every inch of your shared home was adorned in pretty festive decorations.

Has literally bought you all that you couldn't think of and more for the special day. Gift after gift awaits you in that overly decorated living room of yours.

Adores this day and season because he has another excuse to spoil the fuck out of you. It’s no big deal that he bought you a vacation home or two… right? And the three vehicles he purchased were only necessary since you’d mentioned how much you liked them one time (around six months ago or something—not that he kept track or anything…) as the model drove by…

❅ Geto Suguru

NSFW

With Suguru, it’s actually you who’s extra freaky around Christmas. Sure, you love the festivities and everything but what/who do you love even more than that? Your husband. Or, more specifically, the thick cock he gifts you with all year long.

How could you not spend Christmas night with Geto’s dick sliding in and out of your mouth—having told him some measly excuse about how the mistletoe is hanging in the back of your throat this year and there’s only one way to share a kiss beneath it properly..!

Your glossy eyes remain up on his darkened purple ones and he looks so fucking grateful to have you. Geto stands with parted lips and bated breath as he watches you use that slutty mouth of yours to worship every inch of his pretty cock. You’ve got drool and spit dripping all down your chin but you don’t seem to have a care in the world. Hell, you probably don’t even have a thought in that cockdrunk head of yours right now either.

Geto even tries to pull himself out of your mouth (so he can catch a small break) only for you to let off a needy whine of his name and chase after him—latching your lips and tongue onto his oh-so-sensitive drooling tip just to suckle on him like you can’t function properly without his cock resting against your lips (and hey, maybe you can’t).

SFW

Impresses your parents on Christmas day flawlessly with the most perfect gifts for them (he unintentionally outdoes your gifts).

Spoils you like crazy with more than just gifts by being at your beck and call a bit more than usual. He’s always attentive but on Christmas he seems to he even moreso than normal.

Who lets you style his hair however you want with ribbons and bows while actively wearing a poorly made Christmas sweater the two of you made the year prior to the current.

Loves playing Christmas themed games with you because they remind him of playing games with Satoru (who occasionally joins the two of you around this time). You’re just as competitive as he is and even the most simple games turn into full on competitive events between the two of you.

❅ Toji Fushiguro

NSFW

It’s not until Christmas night that you get your real present from Mr. Fushiguro, your doting husband of God knows how many years now.

Watching you care and love on Megumi and Tsumiki all day was just the push he needed to later want to fuck yet another child into that gorgeous body of yours.

It started off as him being all soft with you, giving you that big bear hug from behind as he murmured into your ear—asking you if you enjoyed this year’s Christmas ‘n whatnot… only to lead to him casually suggesting that you two make the family a bit larger. Later rasping into your ear again, this time while you’re folded into a mind-numbing mating press, about how it’s time to give you your last present of the day.

His cock is throbbing more than normal too, whole body tense with a coarse mix of lust and love that he has for you. Oh how he could never truly get over the sight of you all under him like this with your eyes flickering back, nails clawing against his skin, and sweet softened moans of his name spilling from your lips.

It’s not long before the headboard is making not-so-subtle taps against the wall as he loses himself within the warm gushing depths of your cunt, fat cockhead only swelling more and more when you have the gall to utter the words, “Y-Yeah.. hnngh, fuck another b-baby into me, Toji,” And who ever is he to deny you of such a request?

SFW

Spends most of the day trying to bite back his smile as he watched his two kids open presents you bought for them. Their eyes light up with each gift and Toji’s poor heart only flutters with that uncomfortable warmth of love he can never quite get used to.

Keeps his best poker face on when Tsumiki and Megumi give him a gift. Toji tries to act like the little family drawing the two kids made doesn’t mean anything to him, going as far as laughing at how wonky the artwork is and everything but… the drawing is stuck onto the fridge the very second after the kids turn their head away from him and if anyone paid close enough attention to the big softie—they would’ve spotted his eyes glossing over ever so slightly.

You always get him the best gifts. Or at least, that’s what Toji tells you. Whether it be cologne or simply just a plate of Christmas breakfast in the morning—the man swears his wife outdoes herself every year. What would he do without you?

Doesn’t care too much for the snow but seeing you build snowmen and make snow-angels with his kids will always make him stand out in the crisp cold air for moments longer than he normally ever would. Usually with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, standing all mysteriously and brooding by the front door of your shared home as he watches you three run around and make fools of yourself—anyone who looks at him at the right second would catch a little grin quirking against those scared lips of his.

❅ Sukuna Ryomen

NSFW

As soon as the clock strikes twelve and Christmas has hit, he’s grabbing every red ribbon of fabric in the vicinity and wrapping his most important present (you) up to his liking.

Sukuna just loves seeing you tied up, especially on Christmas Day. One year he had your arms box-tied at your arched back as your cheeks were buried down into the sheets and his rough tattooed hands scaled along each exposed sliver of your skin. You were, quite literally, his prettiest present every year.

Sometimes you surprised him and tied yourself up in a new way—the sight never once failing to make his cock spring up. Oh and when he fucks you while you’re all tied up? He loses his mind every single time. Which is part of why he doesn’t do this all year long.

Christmas is the only day of the year where he really goes above and beyond with the whole bondage thing. Truth be told, seeing your fingers wiggle for touch and your body twitching for a moment of release as he fucks you to tears is one of his biggest and sole weaknesses in the world. It’s so sexy—especially with the cries of his name that follows along with the pleasing for him to let you touch his body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on the way you always try wiggling away from him while your limbs are bound, no matter the position. The face you make, the way your cunt spasms—you do it every single time you’re about to cum for the nth time and it drives him fucking insane. Suddenly he can’t help but bully his angry cock into that sensitive sappy spot inside you that you’re so desperately trying to pull away from…

SFW

Definitely dresses up as the Grinch just to terrorize his child nephew, Yuji—who he knows you adore more than anything.

Yeah, you thought it was odd when you woke up on Christmas morning and your husband was nowhere to be found but when you made your way downstairs alongside a five or six year old Yuji to get the morning started… here comes your husband dressed in that iconic furred green suit and red coat—invoking a shriek from the poor boy beside you as he watched his uncle snatch up all the presents from beneath the Christmas tree.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or scold the man in the moment but either way, the event was memorable nonetheless. In Sukuna’s mind, nothing will ever beat the widening of your eyes and the dramatics that brat beside you displayed over some toys being snatched up.

He’ll never ever say it out loud to anyone aside from you but, he actually quite enjoys Christmas. Or, he has enjoyed it ever since you made him watch The Grinch—hence his antics surrounding the character. Hell, his first comment about that movie was something along the lines of, “Hah. I like the way this guy thinks already.”

Mind you, you were barely even half an hour in.

❅ Ino Takuma

NSFW

On Christmas, it’s just you and him this year so… after all the literal gifts have been opened and all the sweet things have been exchanged……. Ino’s offering his body to you entirely.

Mid-day, you swear you left him in your bedroom for hardly even five minutes only to return to his legs sprawled apart and his hard cock exposed & decorated with a cute bow wrapped around his hefty base. Then his hands are tied behind his back—part of you wondering how he even managed to do that in such a short period of time..

His brown hair is all tousled and his breathing is unsteady already. You’ve seen and felt every inch of him time and time before but offering himself ip to you like this was oh so embarrassing for the poor man. The instant your eyes fall onto his cock, his tip leaks in a messy slip of pre.

Ino can only take a deep breath and try to work up his confidence just to weigh his head to the side and lift a brow, “Well, baby? Merry Christmas. Come unwrap your final present…”

SFW

Ino loves going out with you durning the holiday season. Especially ice skating—even if you’re good or bad at it, he loves being out there on the ice with you.

Something about laughing in the cold until your cheeks burn makes his heart throb within his chest. Ino loves spending this season with you because he swears every small moment feels like a movie when he’s with you.

He definitely still leaves out cookies and milk for Santa and will debate with you for hours on end about how the guy is 100% real.

Goes, “Aww, babbyyyyy..” to literally each and every single gift you give him, soon followed by a sweet, “You didn’t have to get this for mee..!” He’s not ungrateful or anything but, even though you’re his girlfriend of like two years now, he’ll never quite get used to receiving gifts from you & he’s too damn humble for his own good.

❅ Yuki Tsukumo

NSFW

You make the ‘mistake’ of gifting her a strap for Christmas and she makes good use of it that same night.

Practically every position you can imagine & be stretched into—she’s got you in. You always knew your girlfriend had some mean hips on her but when she’s got this lengthy cock strapped onto those hips and she just working the thick ‘n hard inches of the plastic inside you at a brutal pace, you can’t even breathe properly enough to respond to her little comments of, “Aw, look at my girll… takin’ all of me so well, aren’t you pretty?”

Teasing you too with huffs of, “This is the best gift ever, cutie. I mean, hah..” She’d flash that knowing sexy grin of hers, “Jus’ look at this pussy—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this wet before.”

You’re not too sure if you regret the purchase or if it’s the best thing you’ve ever bought for the woman but either way; in return for buying her that damn strap, Yuki gifts you with the meanest backshots not too long after opening her gift. She’s gotta make sure it works, right?

Hand around your throat, tipping your head back, lustful eye contact, heavy pants of your name, and praises pouring from her blush pink lips—Yuki’s probably never letting this gift go to waste.

SFW

She’s competitive so around this time of year, any winter spot imaginable… you’re playing or participating in with her (and probably losing).

Who loves making snow angels with you and then comparing the sized of the two, making fun of yours even if it were only the slightest bit smaller than her own.

Goes on these insane morning runs with shorts on ‘n everything. You find her bizarre for it and almost died the one time she’d convinced you to go on one with her.

Both of you would definitely give each other the same number of gifts literally every year. It’s always unintentional and completely coincidental but for whatever reason, if you got ten gifts: she got ten. If she got thirty, you got thirty. Even if you got one, she somehow got one as well. It’s silly but it keeps happening and both of you assume it’s the world’s way of telling you you’re perfect for one another.

❅ Shoko Ieiri

NSFW

Ties a bow around her middle and ring finger and gives you this smirk that leads to literally everything else.

It’d be after gifts have been opened and stories have been shared that she’s out by the fireplace with you, knuckle deep in your cunt as your sweet slick trickles down her slender fingers and coats the fabric she has around her digits.

Who doesn’t ever get tired of fingering you and never ever fails to amaze you because somehow her hands never seem to cramp up on her (or maybe that’s just from the years she spent with you but who knows..).

Once she’s satisfied with getting you off numerous times, Shoko will tell you that there’s another bow she wants you to find. That’s how you end up in between her pretty legs, tugging a lacey red bow that was tired around her upper thigh down her leg. And from there, it’s only fair that you enjoy your Christmas dessert that’s presented so deliciously in front of you—especially when she takes those two fingers from earlier and spreads herself open for you. The drool from her cunt matches the drool from your lips—how cute.

SFW

Building snowmen with you is something she cant get enough of. Especially considering the time you both built one another and you’d given her a small stick to resemble the cigarette she’s always got lodged in between her lips.

Who loves going to new cafes with you around this time for whatever reason. Something about the cold just makes her want to try all sorts of different warm beverages and who better to go try these things with than her loving wife?

Goes on a Christmas movie marathon with you because your presence during movies alone is enough to make her heart flutter.

You got her a pack of cigarettes one year as a joke but she actually appreciated it more than you realized. This was earlier on in your relationship and that gift was part of what motivated her to want to quit smoking (well, that & she’d like to live by your side for as long as possible).

❅ Choso Kamo

NSFW

Fucking his cum into you for a few hours is as good as any other gift he’s given you, right? Especially after seeing how you are around his brothers—so kind and doting, you’d make the perfect mother.

Hence the incoherent mutters of Choso wanting you to have his child later that night. All you did was give him the lovestruck look when he suggested it and it was over from there. He couldn’t stop himself from bending you in all sorts of positions, angling his hips into you perfecting and moaning about how desperately he needs you to take everything he gives you.

Who can’t even think straight when you look him in the eyes and praise him for how good he’s funking you—not that this is new or anything… But then you started teasing him. “C’mon Cho, r-right there. Gimme one more, fuck me nice ‘n full—mmgh..” Oh, you were sure to be the cause of his death that night.

He sees white by the time he cums again, something he’ll later tease you about with a stupidly unserious comment of, “Guess we really did have a white Christmas after all, huh?”

SFW

It’s winter so whenever you two walk together, he takes your hand, holds it tightly, and then pulls it into his pocket as the two of you walk together.

Who kinda adores the snow and cold weather for the simple fact that it hides how much he blushes around you and gives him a new excuse to use.

Loves seeing the happy look on your fave when you open presents, it makes him fall for you even harder and all he wants to do is provide the whole world and more just to keep that expression on your face.

Spends most of the holiday with his brothers and majority of his paychecks around this time are blown on providing gifts for his siblings—many purchases made without even so much as a price check beforehand.

❅ Nanami Kento

NSFW

Cooking Christmas dinner ends up with you either bent over the counter or spread out on top of the counter every year. Nanami basically calls it tradition at this point. He just has to have you instead of focusing on finishing the meal set for Christmas day.

And what makes it so much better is that Nanami also uses this time to reveal how much he’s into food play. The man can’t help but want to lick some sort of frosting or cream (aside from his own) up off of your soft skin. Swearing everything tastes better when it’s eaten off of you.

Or, sometimes Nanami claims that pistoning his sharp hips into you while you’re bent over the counter helps him focus on reading the recipe to whatever he’s making. Apparently your moans keep him focused on the task at hand (literally) and each clench of your cunt around his thick shaft make his senses sharper (his words not mine…).

That, and there’s nothing more fun than leaving a cliche powdered handprint on the fat of your ass after a couple smacks in between his rough thrusts. You find his ability to multitask insane. He’s fucking your legs to complete mush and yet baking a cake at the same time like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Not to mention the way he’ll have you suck a taste test off of his fingers just to hear you moan out a stuttered response of how good it tastes.

SFW

Nanami is the best gift giver, naturally. Okay, yeah, you mentioned this item once as you were describing to him a dream you had like three years ago before the two of you were even together but who caresss, right? It’s not his fault he has such a sharp memory and has hung off of your every word for as long as he’s known you…

One thing your husband loves to do around this time is slow dance with you to some classical Christmas music. It feels sappy and sweet—swaying with the love of his life as joyful steady music flitters within the air.

He definitely cannot wait to have children with you because he sees the way your face lights up as you watch children durning the holidays. Their laughter is so pure and really brings the Christmas spirit into the hearts of anyone nearby.

Who doesn’t go crazy with decorations or anything but he will have one absurdly large tree with a ridiculous number of ornaments just because.