#dude just came into my fucking house and was like 'do you want to be hit with a ridiculous amount of nostalgia

[genekies]

screaming in the club

time for another vent in tags

#so i was joking and i thought it came through but im also dumb and autistic and my jokes dont always cross. sO #i was joking about one of my roomates not seeing Nightmare Before Christmas before bc i was showing 2 of them my picture vinyl of it and whe #n one of them said they never saw it i said “but you were a loser on tumblr in the 2010s wdym” and their fiance was just rude to me and i th #ought it was clearly a joke but ig not and they lowley attacked me for it? im just?? i tried to clarify that i was joking and they know im a #utistic. hell the one i was joking to is also autistic but idk so now i feel like utter shit especially after all i did today thst juet drai #ned me. ive been trying to fix our 2nd shower. i had a meeting. i had an extremely hard therapy session. and i showered today. its been hell #like i am trying to get thru relapsing on SH and my ED and ofc they dont know but that shit made it worse and i dont want to say anything bc #then ill feel like im guilt tripping? idk but im also super nervous about a HRT appmt i have coming up and i cant afford it and we have no #food in the house i can eat rn and no one has gone shopping. i cant go shopping either bc i cant drive/dont have a car. and its making it #harder to help get back on track with eating when theres nothing for me to eat? so everything is fucking amazing right now. #the only meals i could POSSIBLY have and all claimed by the one roommate i was joking with. it all takes up half our freezer too so thats #fucking awesome. all this food for one person and none that i can eat or the other vegan in the house can eat. i have been hungry for DAYS. #all there has been for me to eat is cup ramen and grilled cheese. AND SOMEONE WHO WASNT FUCKING VEGAN ATE ALL THE VEGAN CHEESE IM GENUINELY #SO PISSED OFF? like dude yall have your own cheese wtf #the thing is its already really hard for me to tell when i am actually hungry bc of years of ignoring it so when i actually feel it and ther #es nothing it really gets to me. im so tired and idek where my EBT card is to get myself something. its all just so much. #i just want to lay in my bed and sleep for days. but i cant. i have too much shit to do. like even just tomorrow i have to clean the #bathroom. mop the kitchen. do dishes. shovel snow. and just generally take.care of shit because since we have 2 roomates MIA right now and #no one else wanted to do shit i had to step up and i am STRUGGLING. i have been for a while. the thing is everyone that didnt sign up for sh #it didnt have much going on besides probable seasonal depression #i relapsed. have debilitating mental health. i can barely get out of bed before 4 pm. and i have to take care of myself and my cat. #im so close to snapping on them at this point #i need the one roommate i actually like to come back or i swear i will lose my shit. hes only been gone for 6 days but HOLY SHIT #everything has gone to shit #vent over ig im going to sleep soon. still hungry if i cant find something.

[rabbit-hearted-girl]

Going out with your friend and she ditches you so you have to hang out with people you've never seen before is an introverts worse nightmare

#just happened to me actually 😅 #ahe invited me to go out #the left to make out with a dude #i was literally screaming inside cuz I couldn't even leave since i had her house keys and phone in my bag #when she came back i immediately left #i doubt I'll be going anywhere with her soon #trying to make small talk while people around you are screaming to be beard over the music #and then the only person you're remotely comfortable with leaves #absolute nightmare fuel #it was so boring too like #standing around a bunch of people smoking and drinking #not even a place to sit cuz its the middle of rhe fucking street #I'm kinda mad at her but also not cuz like ahe shouldn't have to deal with me all of the time #if she wants to disappear to make out with a man thats fine #just like tell me you're planning on doing that ao i know I'm not gonna be comfortable around these people #cuz id rather just not go #random rant #introvert #i hate parties #and teenagers #ans young adults (i say this as a young adult btw)

[hearts4sturniolo]

FRIENDS -m. sturniolo

PAIRING; fwb!matt + fwb!reader

CW; smut. pure filthy smut. matts dick game kinda crazy?? dominance. a fuck ton of teasing and begging. praise + a little degration tbh. this ones a long one so bare with me.

AUTHORS NOTE; first tumblr fic, WHO UP! lmk if this is dog ass bc i am open to criticism lol. also comment if u wanna be in the taglist, shoutout gf @americanjcsus for being #1 hypegirl through this process lol.

its friday night and i found my feet carrying me to a door i knew all too well. the home of my best friends. im not even sure if i can consider one of them that anymore, because deep down i know its more.

i ring the doorbell and wait patiently, hearing footsteps on the other side. a hand hit the knob as the door swung open to reveal chris.

"dude this is perfect timing, i was just about to head with nick to mcdonalds so you made it just in time." chris said stepping forward for a swift side hug.

"you mind getting my usual? oh and also an oreo mcflurry please?" i asked while reaching down to take off my shoes.

"yes ma'am, NICK LETS GO!" he shouted, as if on cue, nick came strolling down the hallway.

"hey bae! i didnt know you where coming over tonight?" nick said, pulling me into a bear hug. i wrapped my arms around him, hugging him just as tight.

"nick its friday... where else would i be." i joked as the two laughed before stepping outside for their mcdonalds run.

"do you wanna come with? if not i think matts rotting in his room if you care to join him." chris said

"im good, ill just go bother matt." i said, knowing that i would be doing the exact opposite the second they left the house. chris just nodded before closing and locking the door, leaving you standing in the entryway.

i ventured my way through the house, my brain going into autopilot as i made my way to matts room. the door was closed, dim light leaking from underneath the crack in the doorway. i knocked softly before opening the door.

matt was currently sprawled out, back against the headboard of the bed, legs parted just enough for someone to to fit in-between them.

holy fuck, i thought to myself. he was wearing red plaid pants and a black tight fitting tee shirt. his tattoos visible and his hair tousled.

"hey sweetheart." matt said, patting the space next to him in the bed, insinuating for me to come sit next to him.

i practically stumbled towards him, crawling onto the bed to lay on my stomach next to him. my head resting on my palms as i looked up at him.

"nick and chris left?" he asked, glancing at my figure before regaining eye contact.

"mhm." i responded, his hand immediately reaching out to stroke my cheek. i melted into his touch as he scooted closer.

"i've missed you pretty girl, been thinking about you all week." he spoke in a low tone, goosebumps rising up on my skin as he pushed my hair behind my shoulders.

"what have you been thinking about?" i responded. i knew the answer to this before i even asked, but i wanted to hear it.

"well, i've been thinking about how you were teasing me the other night at dinner, how you thought you were slick rubbing my thigh knowing i wouldn't be able to do shit to you because you were going home after." my eyes widened, i had silently prayed he forgot about that, but at the same time, i wanted to know the aftermath. he pushed himself onto his arm, leaning over me now, hand still caressing my face

"been thinking about your pretty lips, those sweet noises that i want to hear come out of them while i fuck you." the sweet sentence turning into one filled with lust. it was like he was teasing me at this point.

"oh, and how good you would look with my dick filling you up." he said so casually that i almost passed out. i couldn't take much more, i reached up to thread my fingers through his hair before pulling him into me. our lips smashing together before we could even think of anything else.

he immediately sprung into action, his lips moving roughly against mine. his tongue poking out to push past my lips and into my mouth. i moaned a little bit at the action as his tongue roamed around my mouth with purpose. after a moment, his lips retracted from mine, making their way down to my neck.

he licked a long stripe up my neck before sucking harshly, making multiple dark marks on my skin. his hand trailing its way to my shirt and crawling up my back to unclasp my bra like he has so many times.

"take your shirt off." he mumbled against my skin, i shot up to peal my shirt off before he did the same with his own. his tattoos now much more visible as he leaned to grab my lower back, pulling me closer towards the headboard of the bed.

he leaned down towards my neck again, slowly kissing hungerly down towards my chest. he blew a cold breath onto my nipple while looking up towards me.

"matt." that's all i could say, my mind was racing because of how slow this all felt like. he was taking his time to tease me but doing so passionately to keep me hooked.

"tell me what you want, baby." i stayed silent as my back arched, trying to get his mouth connected to my skin. his hand roughly pushed me back down.

"your such a slut, i've barely touched you and you're already speechless. now you either answer, or i stop." he propositioned

"matt please, just- i need you so bad. want you to touch me" i whined, skin starting to ache from the lack of contact.

without a second to spare, he leaned down and connected his mouth to my chest. my hands shot to his hair again as he sucked on my nipple. quickly after, giving my other boob the same treatment before sucking on the surrounding skin. matt was completely unbothered as he made more dark marks, that only we knew would be from him.

his hand slid down my waist and onto the waistband of my shorts. hooking his finger onto them, he slowly traced the top.

"please, please matt." i begged, pleading with him to touch me where i needed him to most.

he listened, hand tugging down my shorts and panties in one motion. he looked at me before looking down, hand inches away from my pussy.

"god you're soaked baby," he said, whimpers exiting my mouth as he ran one finger up my slit. he asked before placing his finger on my clit "you want me to touch you right here?"

"god yes please matt-" i was cut off by my own moan. matts finger making quick work to my puffy clit. he pulled his finger off only before he switched to his thumb. he rubbed in a circle before his middle finger teased the outside of my hole.

he spared me the words before pushing a single finger into me. my moans quickly filling the air in his room as he took that as a sign to add another finger.

"you're clenching around my fingers so well, my good girl." the name almost causing me to cum on the spot. he continued the pace, pushing his fingers in and out of me as i barrled towards my orgasm.

"matt- im gonna cum-" i spoke, panting heavily and bucking my hips up into his fingers.

matt immediately pulled his fingers out of me before making quick work to unzip his own pants. i whined at the lack of contact he moved off the bed, tearing his pants off his ankles.

"come here baby, come show me how bad you want me." he spoke, voice low and gravelly. i crawled over towards him and positioned myself so that i was on my knees, hand instinctively going to palm him through his briefs.

"fuckkk, my god." he hissed, head falling back on his shoulders and his hand shot out to grab the one that was touching him. he guided my hand to the waistband and nudged me to take them off.

i pulled them down and his cock sprang out, hitting his bare stomach and leaving a small precum spot against his skin. he was painfully hard and his tip was practically leaking. i swiped my thumb over his tip to collect some of his cum before bringing it up to my mouth to suck on it, doe eyes looking up at him.

his demeanor shifted and his eyes were filled to the brim with lust as he quickly turned me over and pushed me down onto the bed, chest against his soft grey sheets as my lower half was vulnerably out in the air.

he came to stand behind me, before i knew it, i felt his dick slide up my folds. i gasped, lips parted slightly as i waited his next move.

"matt fuck me please." i begged, pushing my hips back against him

"only since you asked so nicely baby." he said before pushing his entire dick length inside of me. i choked on a moan as he slowly and deeply thrusted into me.

"gotta make sure you get every inch, you deserve it." he mumbled, low grunts coming from him as he ever so slightly quickened his pace.

his hand made their way to my hips, helping guide me back against him. his dick hitting my g-spot with every thrust. the sounds coming out of me filled the room. i knew that if anyone else were home, they would know exactly what was happening, there was no denying it.

he pulled me back harder against his cock as he started to ram into me at an ungodly pace. one of his hands leaning over to push my head into the bed, my cheek smushing against it.

"you're mine, thats it, you understand that?" matt spat

"yes matt. yes, yes." thats the only words that i could form. brain fogging up as i was being fucked dumb by my best friend.

"good girl," he grunted, my pussy clentched around his dick as i chased my orgasm. "my good girl, you're so tight for me and only me."

my only sounds switching between moans and heavy labored breaths as he fucked me.

"fuck baby- im so close- wanna fill you up." he mumbled again. pounding me at an even faster rate as he reached down with the hand that was on my waist, to rub my clit in circles.

"please- please matt," i pleaded, high so close i could almost taste it. "cum in me."

with that, i felt his dick twitch and a warm liquid filling my pussy. the feeling alone causing me to cum all over his cock, our juices mixing together.

he slowed down his pace but continued to fuck both of us through our orgasm. much more loud grunts now coming from him as his sensitive dick twitched more frequently inside of me, sending shocks through my body.

after a moment, he slowly pulled out of me, guiding me to lay down onto his bed as he pulled his underwear back on to make a quick trip to the bathroom. he came back seconds later with a wet and dry towel, helping clean myself and then himself up.

time moved so fast that it felt like the next second, he was throwing one of his shirts over my head and pulling the blanket up after climbing into the bed next to me.

i could barely keep my eyes open as i saw him looking at me, "you did so good sweetheart, come here." he pulled me towards him. i smiled into his chest as i spoke next.

"thank you." i blushed, eye contact so prevalent now that it made my heart ache. my face felt hot as he played with my hair, finding something to put on tv while we waited for his brothers to get back. my heart ache spreading to my whole chest now. only one thing plagued my mind in that moment.

it was that im not sure how much longer we could be just "friends".

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut

[vexwerewolf]

The thing is, D&D is not a game.

I know that sounds insane, but hear me out: D&D is not a game, it is a games console. You don't actually "play D&D." You play "Dragon Heist" or "Tomb of Annihilation" or "Ghosts of Saltmarsh" or "your GM's homebrew campaign" or "the plot of Critical Role Season 1 reconstructed from memory" on D&D.

For quite a long while now - possibly literal decades - D&D hasn't even been the best games console, but it's been "the one everyone knows about" and "the one my friends have" and in fact it's "the one whose name is almost synonymous with the entire medium of TTRPGs," like how "Nintendo" or "Playstation" could just mean "games console" to people who didn't understand games consoles. They might not have heard of a "tabletop roleplaying game," but most people have heard of "Dungeons & Dragons."

For this extended metaphor, D&D is Nintendo back in the 90s, or Playstation in the 2000s. Sometimes you say "oh let's go to my house and play Nintendo" or "c'mon dude I wanna play Playstation" but you're not actually playing Nintendo or Playstation, you're playing Resident Evil or Super Mario Bros or Jurassic Park or Metal Gear Solid or whatever on a Nintendo or a Playstation.

Now, this metaphor is going to get even more tortured, but remember how when the PS2 and the original X-Box came out, they used a standardised DVD format, but the Nintendo console in that generation, the Gamecube, used discs but they were this proprietary tiny little disc format that they had control over? That essentially meant that it was really difficult to make third party titles for the Gamecube that did literally anything that Nintendo didn't want them to do, and also essentially gave Nintendo an even greater ability to skim money off the top of any sales?

So that must've seemed like a smart business decision in their heads. But the PS2 and the X-Box used DVDs. This was a standardized format which gave Microsoft and Sony way less control over who made games for their consoles, but that actually turned out to be a good thing for gaming, because it meant that the breadth of games that you could play on their consoles was massively increased even if some of them were games Microsoft and Sony didn't really approve of. (Also it's worth nothing that the PS2 and the X-Box could just play DVDs, which meant if your household was on a budget, you didn't need a separate DVD player - your games console could do it for you! This was actually a huge selling point!)

What Wizards are currently trying to do now is kinda-sorta the equivalent of Sony suddenly announcing that the PS5 will only accept a proprietary cartridge format they hold the patent on, will control the content of and charge money for the construction of. This possibly seems like it could be a moneymaker in your head because you hold market dominance (apparently the PS5 has 30 million units shipped compared to X-Box Series X 20 million units) and so many people make games for your console, but what it actually means is game devs and publishers will abandon your product. If it takes so much more work, the scope of what they're allowed to do is so much more limited and they're going to make less money off of it, they just won't bother. They'll go make games for the X-Box or PC instead.

To use another computer metaphor, D&D is Windows - it might not be the best system but it's the system most people are familiar with and so it gets the most stuff made for it, but there's is an upper limit on the bullshit people will take before they decide fuck it and get an Apple or learn how Linux works.

TTRPG systems are a weird product because you're not selling people a game, you're selling people a method to play a game. All the actual games are created by the community - even prewritten campaigns needs to be executed via a game master. Trying to skim money off the community will mean they'll eventually give up on you.

#open gaming license #dungeons and dragons #ogl #ogl 1.1 #opendnd #wizards of the coast #one dnd #d&d #dnd #tabletop gaming #tabletop roleplaying games #ttrpgs

[finsplurtz]

Dude idk how to explain it but there’s smth about ur fics i love….if ur taking requests can u do one for yuuji? Hes kinda dumb and he was basically a jock before he got into jujutsu tech so one with some corruption kink?

— thankuu I’m glad u enjoy my writings, I try my best. Hope you enjoy this one too<3

dumb slut — yuuji.itadori

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Yuuji Itadori

— contents : dumb yuuji (I love him) , corruption kink , virgin yuuji , is called a slut like once , overstim , creampie….if u rlly think abt it , passing out nd yeah.. mb if i got smth wrong

warnings : virginity loss erm think not much of a warning… blud is aged up btw

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

You stared down at the pink haired guy with a confused look. … did he seriously not get the hint..?

You’ve been flirting and sending hints that you wanna sleep with him. At some point you almost gave up and thought maybe he was playing stupid to not hurt your feelings or something, but no he’s really clueless.

Something about that made you feel excited.

Yuji was popular, he’s surrounded by girls, you were 100% sure he knew about the wonders of sex.

“Uh.. you know what, we should hang out after school. My house. Just us two” you smile knowing he couldn’t turn you down.

There wasn’t any special occasion, you just wanted to hang out like friends and down a couple drinks. That’s what he thought at least.

For most of the afternoon you guys were laughing and talking about anything and everything, Yuji’s a lightweight so the littlest alcohol already had him fucked up.

“Ahh…Yuji tell me, any girls you’ve been with?” You ask taking a swig of the alcoholic drink.

“Hmm…. I’ve had like 3 or 4 girlfriends.. you?” You let out a small chuckle.

“I’ve had some yeah, I mean girls you’ve slept with..” you tilt your head looking into his eyes, god was he cute..

“Uhm……no I’ve never..” he flushed looking off to the side. You got closer and placed you’re hand over his thigh.

“It’s okay..I don’t judge….but god does it feel good” you glance at his lips and he stutters trying to move away.

“Y-yeah..? I mean y..yeah I’ve heard..”

“I can show you, yuuji..” you get closer and closer to his lip, he closes his eyes tightly and you quickly stuff your tongue in his hot mouth.

He tightly grabs onto your shirt, his tongue so stiff it kinda makes you laugh.

You quickly dig your hands into his pants and roughly stroke his dick making him moan in your mouth.

“Augn-! Mmphh…~” He tries to pull your hand off but it feel so good, he can’t bring himself to pry you off, instead his hips subconsciously start thrusting into your hand.

“..like it..?” You pull away looking into his glossy eyes, he shakes his head no and tries squirming away.

“Mm…I know you like it..feels good doesn’t it..~? I can show you something that’ll feel even better…” he looks at you with wide eyes and a red face.

.

.

“OHH FUCK- ACK—“ Yuuji scratched his stained bedsheets as you pounded into his used up hole. His lips were red and slightly busted from how much he was biting them, he felt sticky and sweaty but he was addicted.

“D..did you cum again..?” You said, panting like a dog. You had felt him tighten around you causing you to groan and dig your fingers into his plush skin.

“Ugh….aren’t you..tired..?” He turned around and he almost had hearts in his eyes. He smirked as best as he could and moved himself on your cock letting out more whorish moans.

“Holy shit..? Have I turned you into a complete slut for dick??” You laugh and wrap your hand around his throat bringing his back up against your chest.

“S..so full..! Nngh….HA—“ He screamed feeling you harshly thrust in him again, cum being pushed out of his gaping hole.

“T-TOO MUCH S..STOP Y-YN~!!” He saw sparks as he came one more time at the feeling of your hot cum pumping him again, his thighs trembled and he fell forward, completely passing out.

You watched your seed peek out of his hole making you twitch.

You ended up passing out next to him for the whole day. In the morning you woke up to your cock being slowly stroked..

You slowly open your eyes to find Yuuji straddling you and aligning your tip to his wet entrance.

“Just…one more time..”

a/n; did i slack off? a little yeah…..

#I LOVE U REQUESTER #yuuji too cute whatt #jjk x male reader #itadori yuuji #jjk yuji #jjk x reader #yuji x reader #yuji x male reader #itadori x reader #dom top reader #smut #male reader #jujutsu kaisen #gay #dark content #tumblr writers #corruption kink #hot butt sex #aged up characters #DO NOT FEAR

[heavenlybey]

a/n hi y’all this is my first time writing so pls keep that in mind.. also if you have some tips or feedback i would appreciate it!!

Remind you

⚠️Smut

Connie was getting sick of your nasty attitude. you’ve been ignoring his texts and calls for a while now and it was getting on his nerves. But posting that quote that said: “if he ain’t treat you right, his opp might” followed with a picture of you cuddled up with another dude? And not just any dude..Jean??? “She’s got me fucked up” connie mumbled to himself while putting his shoes on. He was done with your attitude and he was going to fix things tonight!

You on the other hand, didn’t have a care in the world. You had just gotten out of your relaxing bath, ready to end the night with a glass of wine and watching your fav show. That was until you heard three hard knocks on your door. “who the hell?” you thought to yourself as you went to go open the door and were met with a very angry Connie. As soon as you saw him you rolled your eyes and tried to close the door. Not wanting to deal with his shit and just go finish the rest of your wine. But Connie was faster and put this foot between the door, he fully opened the door and let himself inside. “Get the fuck out of my house, Connie” you angrily said to him. “Jean huh?” “Get out of my house!” Connie found it amusing how YOU were the one that’s angry while he should’ve been the one who was angry.

“no, we’re gonna talk about this. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks and now you’re posting pics with another man, you think imma let this shit slide ma?”

“You never make time for me anymore and, i can’t do this shit anymore. I’m don-“

Oh you got him fucked up. His lips coming down to yours in a hungry kiss. Tongue swiping across your parted lips. Pressing his erection against you. A moan wanting to escape from the feeling of his growing erection against yours. Trying to push him away, he kept a firm grip around your neck. “i’m serious, i’m done witcho bitchass” you said which resulted into you being thrown onto your bed. Connie dragging you back, ripping your black silky robe off. You’re fully naked laying before him, sending a hard slap on your ass, a gasp fell from your lips.

“I don’t care what you say, we’re not done mama”

He flips you onto your back without any type of warning, forcing your knees up against your shoulders. You are completely spread out for him, running his eyes over your wet pussy. When he looks back up to you, you know because of the look on his face, your shit is about the be fucked up.

Connie is mad as hell, he doesn’t bother with any sweet touches. Going straight between your legs to suck on your clit. You let out a gasp saying “ohh god!” His tongue meeting your entrance to thrust inside of you. He leans up to make eye contact with you while he spit right on your pussy. You both watch the spit slowly rolling downwards, towards your entrance. His long tongue came down to glide from your entrance to your clit then sucking on your bud. “F-Fuck-“ is all you could say, feeling him chuckle while he was sucking up your arousal. Filling his mouth full of your wetness. “You think Jean can make you feel this good mami?” You were already feeling the tight knot in your stomach, you knew your orgasm was only a few licks away and so did Connie. Your lips fell open once again to moan, but before you could get anything out, he shoved his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck. Get them nice and wet for me, ma.” You took his deep into your throat, sucking and swirling like you would his dick. The pleased look on his face pissed you off. You decided, without much thinking about the consequences to open your big mouth and say something stupid.

“This is how i sucked off Jean yesterday.” You said with a smug look. The smug look on your face was wiped away immediately when Connie flips you onto your stomach, your face hitting the bed first before he spreads your legs wide open with his hands at your ankles. “Talking about another dude while i’m in between your legs, are you crazy or sum??” Your back arched deep, just the way you knew he liked it. His big hand gripping yours to keep you from running. A deep moan leaves both of you as he brutally enters your pussy. His dick settling inside you while he splits you apart and makes room for himself without giving you a chance to adjust. It’s hard to breathe with his dick so deep inside you, the only thing you can do is whine and moan. His thrust deepened as you were trying your best to push him away. The tapping of your hands on his pelvic area making him look down to where you both connected. “What? You can’t handle it ma? Where is that big mouth of yours now huh?

“Please Connie..it’s too much..i-i can’t.” you cried out. Connie scoffed. “i really don’t fucking care ma. Take this fucking dick. Imma remind you who you’re talking to. Gonna make sure never you forget again.” he said while grabbing the back of your neck to pushing your face into the mattress while he is fucking you. You were a moaning mess. Connie was giving you the deepest strokes, constantly hitting your g-spot without any stopping. You felt the tight knot in you stomach starting to form again as your pussy started to get tighter around Connie’s dick. “Don’t even think about cumming. You gon hold that shit mami.”

#aot x connie #aot x black reader #aot x y/n #aot x black y/n #connie x black y/n #connie x black reader #connie x reader smut #connie x you #connie springer

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

--

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

--

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

--

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

--

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

--

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

--

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Just Friends | Han Jisung

Synopsis: Unrequited love is a bitch. Especially when it's between you and your best friend. Even more so when both of you think it's one sided. So what could possibly happen between you and him during a night of partying? Nothing right? You're just friends after all.

Pairings: au Han Jisung x Female Reader

Content Warning: Underage alcohol and drug use (marijuana only), Heavy smut, Friends to lovers, Public unprotected sex and light fluff at the end.

Author's note: I do not advise any anyone under the legal age to take part in the actions that take place in this work of fiction. Both parties are consenting adults over the age of 18. Please be responsible.

Part II

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

"Y/N, you made it! Sweet!” Your best guy friend Jisung bounces up to you when you walk into the party.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly glassy. Looks like he got a head start on partying but he makes sure to help you catch up. Pushing a plastic red cup into your hand the liquid sloshes over the top a little and you're hit with a strong whiff of vodka. Shaking your head with a smile, you eye your best friend since middle school. His silly grin makes your heart flutter and wakes up the butterflies that laid dormant in your stomach. Why did I have to fall for him? You think to yourself but quickly shove the thought away. Tonight you're going to have fun. Being a good girl all the time has gotten boring. Besides it's your last year in highschool, better live it up.

“Dude, of course I came. No way in hell was I going to miss watching you make an ass out of yourself.” You say jokingly and force a large gulp of your drink down.

Fuck, it was strong but all the better to get you quickly to the level Jisung was on. He wasn't just tipsy either, a lit rolled joint rested in-between two of his long fingers. The embers softly glowed in the darkened basement of the house the party was held. Some girl you barely knew but her parents were cool. Staying upstairs and even supplying the drinks. As long as no one was driving, the way they saw it, it was better we were safely doing it here rather than out on the streets.

“Oh come on y/n when do I ever make a fool of myself?” Jisung asks, spreading his arms wide and a bit of his drink splashes onto his arm.

Covering your mouth and laughing behind your hand at your high and drunk friend, who you were madly in love with, you pointed your cup in his direction as to prove your point. “I rest my case.”

Stealing the joint from his fingers you put it up to your lips and inhale deeply. His eyes watch the way your lips cover the end of it, the way they tighten around it to inhale the smoke that heats your tongue and throat. He's transfixed, it seems, completely forgetting what you two were talking about. Instead, thoughts of your lips sucking his cock just like that flashes in his mind. His fuzzy mind wanders, imagining scenarios of you down on your knees in front of him while he's giving every drop of him.

When you lean your head back, eyes towards the purple and orange Halloween lights strung up on the ceiling and exhale the smoke, Jisung's eyes find their way to your neck. His gaze travels to your collarbone and down to the black v-neck T-shirt you wore with skeleton hands over where your breast lay nestled away underneath. Lingering eyes notice the way your chest rises and falls with each breath and how delectable your cleavage looks in that shirt. He can't help his thoughts. You've been the cause of all his wet dreams.

Of course you don't notice a thing. In your mind you think he doesn't notice your body, you think he doesn't see the way your tight jeans hug curves. Why would he? You think, taking another puff and another. I'm probably just one of the bros to him.

“Woah, woah, woah. Bro take it easy.” Jisung says chuckling and taking the joint back from you.

His words only confirm your thoughts. Yeah, we're just bros… just friends. You roll your eyes and with an already cloudy brain you chug your drink. It burns going down but the feeling is better than the feeling of unrequited love.

“I need another drink. Where'd you get this?” You wonder with eyes scanning the party.

Bodies pressed close together as they dance. Practically fucking in the middle of the room to the loud music that plays with its heavy bass. But you don't see the drinks. Looking back at your friend he's just staring at you with his lips parted. Raising an eyebrow you silently question his weird behavior only for him to smirk at you before continuing to smoke.

“Follow me lovely.” He says, using the age old nickname he gave you years ago.

Every time he calls you that you swear your panties become instantly drenched and with your head swimming in alcohol and weed, the fantasies of you and him run rampant in that cloudy heavy head of yours. He leads you between the throngs of your classmates who are equally fucked up as you are or more to the kitchen. It becomes hotter the further you move into the basement yet entering the kitchen the breeze through the open window feels great on your already heated skin. Various bottles of alcohol are lined up on the counter in the middle and next to the fridge there's different types of sodas and juice. Reaching a hand out you go straight to the watermelon vodka, smirking when your hand wraps around the glass. Jisung loves watermelon. Watermelon flavored anything really. You often wonder if you were to kiss him would he taste like watermelon? Sweet and juicy like the red flesh of the fruit.

Knocking back a couple of more drinks and even getting a fresh joint all to yourself, courtesy of Felix, a friend of yours and Jisungs, you feel… free. Both light and heavy at the same time. Every beat and every bass of whatever song that plays you swear you can feel. Really feel it in your bones. The feeling is heavenly. Leaning back on your elbows against the counter of the kitchen's island, you listen to Jisung and Hyunjin -another friend- talk about the new Call of Duty game that dropped last week.

“Did you see the tits on that hot redhead in the campaign?” Hyunjin says dramatically, covering his face with both hands and dragging them down.

You just laugh and flick some of the ash off the end of your joint into an abandoned cup of water. Watching it sink to the bottom of the cup you bring your own up to your mouth and drink deeply.

“Oh fuck yeah I saw those babies. Although those tits don't come close to y/n’s.” You hear Jisung say and you almost spit out your drink. Wide eyed and coughing up a lung you look at the two boys as they throw their heads back laughing.

“Shit, you should've seen your face. I thought you were going to pass out for a second there y/n.” Jisung laughs, patting you on your back.

“Well excuse me. I didn't expect my tits to come up in a conversation.”

He chuckles again and his hands begin to rub your back in small circles. His fingers sprawled out wide and you're hyper aware of the heat emitting from his palm as well as his body that's pressed up close to the side of you. Hyunjin isn't paying attention to either of you by now. His phone is his top priority as his fingers fly over the screen texting someone.

“I can't help it if you got nice tits lovely.” Jisung whispers in your ear causing you to shiver.

He takes your joint and holds it out for you to take a drag. Swallowing hard and wetting your lips you lean forward, eyes on him and cover the end with your lips. He watches you inhale deep and when you turn to blow the smoke out he takes a hit as well.

“Dance with me?” he asks you abruptly, taking your hand in his. Dropping the joint into Hyunjin's hand on the way out of the kitchen he guides you to the middle of the makeshift dance floor.

What the fuck? I know I'm pretty shitfaced but am I hallucinating now?

That thought repeats in your head the entire time Jisung dances with you. You're convinced that you imagined the entire conversation in your intoxicated state and start to move your body to the music. Eyes closed, hips swaying left and right, head slowly bobbing to the beat of Chase Atlantic's Slow Down. You're singing along with the sensual and suggestive lyrics when you feel a pair of hot hands on your skin just below the hem of your shirt. Eyes fly open in surprise but when you turn to look at the person who's now pulling you into them your pulse quickens. Jisung's lips are close to your own and you can smell the watermelon vodka you and him drank all night. Fingers pressing into your hips he encourages you to keep dancing, willing you to grind your ass against him.

Too faded in your mind to feel any ounce of nervousness you'd have on a normal day you go all out. Hips swirling in a circular motion you continue to dance pushing your ass against him. He moves with you matching your movements, bodies rolling together. The hardness in his black jeans is unmistakable and it only makes you want him even more than you ever have. For seven years you harbored your secret crush on him and for 3 of those years you lusted after him. Nights in your bedroom alone you'd moan into your pillow crying his name over and over imagining his fingers rubbing your velvety walls instead of your own. The very fingers that tease and caress your skin as they make their way to your belly.

Needing to see his face, because part of you still believes that you're passed out somewhere dreaming, you look back at him and the sight breaks something in you. Maybe it's the walls you kept up in order to not get hurt, maybe it's your sanity, you don't don't really know. All you know is that you need him. You need to feel the stiffness that's clothed and pressed on your ass inside of you.

Jisung's eyes land on your lips before he slowly brings them back up to look at you. Fuck it, you do what you've dreamt about doing and kiss him. It's blissful and for a moment it's sweet. His lips taste exactly like you thought. Watermelon. It's only when the hand that rests on your stomach travels south that the kiss intensifies. It becomes messy, hot and hurried. He cups your sex over your jeans and you moan on his mouth.

As if he wasn't already hard, you feel his cock stiffen more and he groans softly on your lips. The sound carries its way inside of you down to your feet. The bodies around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in a intimate, private bubble. Holding onto you tightly he pushes himself hard into as if he could penetrate you through all the layers of clothing that currently keep you two from actually fucking right there in front of half the senior class. This teasing, it's an excruciating sort of sensation.

“Fuck me Jisung.” You beg, “Fuck me hard.”

“Shit.” He growls.

He doesn't hesitate, doesn't even let go of the hold he has on your waist when he pulls you into the kitchen and out the glass door into the backyard. There's not a lot of people out here but they're just a blur to you while you get dragged into the dimly lit garage through a door on the side of the house. Only thing illuminating the space is a large bug zapper. The soft neon purple light bounces off the two cars and random objects, casting strange shadows on the walls. You're jerked forward into Jisung's arms and his lips are on yours again. His hands palm your ass while his tongue dances with yours.

“Mm baby, fuck why do your lips taste so good?”

His words, dripping with lust, fall from his mouth. You don't get a chance to come up with some witty or stupid reply because he's spinning you around and bending you over the hood of a black mustang. The hood is cool to the touch from the late October night air but your body is scorching. Fumbling, drunk fingers clumsily undo the button on your jeans, making quick work on the zipper next. Doesn't take long for his pants and yours to be a pool of denim around the pair of your ankles.

His hand comes crashing down over your ass smacking it once making you gasp in shock. He moans appreciatively, licking his lower lip watching your skin turn pink. One hand palming where the strike connected he uses his other hand to guide the leaking tip of his cock to your opening.

“Damn you're so wet.” He shuddered, rubbing himself in-between your folds.

“J- just for you, Ji.” You purr.

“Yeah baby? You get this wet for me all the time?”

You nod your head in response. Speech becomes increasingly difficult the more he teases your cunt and rubbing himself over your clit. When he rams into you suddenly the sound that leaves you is so foreign to you that you aren't even sure it came from you. This strangle whimpering cry seems to only make Jisung crazier. He's driving into with so much force that the car rocks underneath you. He's so thick and the feeling of him stretching you wide, has you feeling higher than any strain of weed you've had.

“F- fuck y/n... Why do you feel so good?” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside of you.

You can't speak. All you can do is moan and whimper incoherently, watching your breath fog the shiny black surface of the car. His balls slap against your clit each time his length disappears inside of you. He isn't quiet either, he doesn't shy away from moaning your name praising you or telling how good you feel on his dick. Your name is repeated like a mantra.

“Jisung, fuck!” You manage to cry out clawing at the smooth surface below you.

“That's my girl. Keep talking lovely. I wanna hear you. Wanna hear your sexy voice.” Rolling his hip he slams into at such an angle your legs begin to shake.

“Don't- don't stop, shit. I'm so close Sungie. Fuck, your cock feels so good inside of me mmm.” Your words push him closer to the edge and his fingers dig painfully into your hips.

Doesn't matter though, chasing the climax that's building quickly inside of you is what matters. Feeling Jisung's cock slide in and out of you creating this beautiful slippery sound when your bodies connect…. you don't know how you'll ever get enough of this. With a shuddering breath you squeeze your eyes shut so tight that you start seeing specks of white lights flashing behind your lids. Your skin prickles and your walls clench down around him pulling a strained groan from him as your orgasm crashes through you. Burying your face in the crook of your arm you attempt to muffle your anguish moans. Jisung pumps into you at a frenzied pace groaning and grunting and cumming with you at the same time.

“Ah, y/n, y/n! Shit, fuck, baby!

Your pussy pulsates milking his cock for every drop of cum that he gives you, filling you up to the point that some starts to drip down your inner thigh. Your legs feel like jelly and the sound of your shared heavy breathing and panting seems to somehow sync with the rhythm of the muffled music playing from inside the house. Groaning he slides out of and you shiver feeling the cold hit your ass.

“I've wanted to do that for a long time.” Jisung admits softly after your clothes are back in place.

The sudden confession makes you feel suddenly shy as if he wasn't just rearranging your guts one minute ago. With gentle hands he cups your face and places a sweet and tender kiss to your lips. When he pulls back from you his eyes blaze with unspoken words that you feel in your chest. With the high from the weed gone and the buzz slowly wearing off it becomes clear that this wasn't a one time thing. The love you thought was one sided wasn't and he wanted to be clear about that, even if he couldn't put it into words right now.

“Come back to my place? I don't want the night to end yet.” His hands find their way to yours intertwining your fingers together. “My parents aren't home.” He adds with a cocky smirk.

A giggle bubbles up from you and you roll your eyes playfully. “Can't get enough can you Ji?” You tease, finding it easy to still have the best friend vibes between you.

“Lovely, the way you felt on my dick, I don't think I'll ever get enough.” He confesses and picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder carrying out of the garage into the Halloween night air.

#han jisung imagines #han x reader #han jisung #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #han smut #han jisung fanfic #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung oneshot #han jisung smut #han jisung drabbles #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung scenarios #han jisung au

[loveronlineee]

My Girl Part 1 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist   All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: swearing

Synopsis: When Mike visits El and the Byers in California, the last person he expected to meet was Eddie’s girlfriend, who apparently exists.

Y/N notes: none

I was originally gonna call this one “The Dungeon Mistress” but that sounded WAY kinkier than I wanted it to be

Request for @maltinonka ! I loved this idea and yes there will absolutely be a part 2 to this one

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here! 

Wanna request something? Look here! 

The Byers got back to theirs after meeting Mike at the airport. El had been talking excitedly about her plan for the day non stop and everyone but Mike was ready to get out.

Jonathan took the keys to the front door out of his pocket and began walking up the pathway, the rest of the gang behind him. He spotted his neighbour sitting on her porch and waved.

“Hey Y/N!” He greeted. She looked up from playing her bass and smiled.

“Oh hey guys!” Mike squinted at her as they walked. Something about her vibe seemed strangely familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Hey El who’s that?” He asked, leaning closer to his girlfriend.

“Y/N. She’s our neighbour. She’s really cool.”

“Jonathan and Argyle hang out with her a lot.” Will added. “They pretty much just get high in Jonathan’s room. But yeah like El said, she’s cool.”

“You still up to come round mine later?” The bass player asked the older kids.

“Yeah we just gotta drop Will, Jane and Mike off at the roller rink.” Jonathan replied. That’s when Y/N noticed the unfamiliar face. El linked arms with him and pulled him forward.

“Y/N this is my boyfriend Mike! He’s visiting us for a couple days.” She explained excitedly. Mike waved. Y/N smiled and got up, holding her bass in one hand as she walked over. That’s when Mike saw her shirt.

The Hellfire Club.

He stared in shock and confusion. How the hell did she have that?? It looked faded and worn out. Way older than the one he had. But it was definitely the shirt.

“Hey nice to meet you!” Y/N greeted. She noted the odd look she was getting. “You okay there bud?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.

“W-Where did you get your shirt?” Mike asked, pointing. Y/N looked down at her outfit.

“My shirt? I made it when I was a freshman in high school.”

“… no you didn’t.” Mike stated. Y/N pulled a face.

“Yeah? I did? I designed it too. It was for a club me and my boyfriend were starting-“

“Boyfriend?” Mike repeated in disbelief. No. She couldn’t be. He couldn’t have. No way.

“Yeah it was a-“

“A D&D club?” Y/N stopped.

“How did you?…” Her eyes widened. “Where are you from Mike?”

“Hawkins, Indiana.”

“NO FUCKING WAY!” She screamed and jumped. Pointing at him as she came back down. “You go to my old high school???”

“Yeah!! And I’m in the Hellfire club!!!” Mike matched her energy. Y/N looked at the Byers family.

“Why did you guys never tell me you were from Hawkins too???”

“You never asked!” Jonathan spluttered. They all seemed too shocked to properly speak.

“Wait. You dated Eddie Munson???” Mike asked, pulling a face.

“Dude I still do!”

“What?!” Mike exclaimed, making Y/N laugh.

“Wow great to know he talks about me then.” She said sarcastically. She looked back at El. “Jane I’m borrowing your boyfriend for a minute!”

“Where are we going?” Mike asked. Y/N grabbed his wrist.

“Come here kid.”

She led him inside her house and to her room. Mike had never seen Eddie’s place but he wouldn’t be surprised if it looked exactly like Y/N’s. Dark, messy, walls covered in band posters.

Y/N hung her bass back on her wall. Kissing her fingers and gliding them across the strings before going to kneel by her bed. She pulled out a shoe box from underneath and lifted the lid. Mike sat on the floor with her as she began to go through the pieces of paper inside.

“I moved to Cali for college last year. I’m lucky my uncle lives here so I don’t have to worry about housing. Eddie and I have been sending each other letters since I left Hawkins. Here.”

Y/N began handing them from the box to Mike as she continued to look through them all.

Mike took the letters and started reading. They were all from Eddie, dates going back over the past two years. He got to the one at the end of the pile. The paper was crumpled and torn in places. He could just about read it.

My girl, Y/N.

You don’t know this yet but I’m writing this before you’ve even left. You’re actually next to me right now, taking a nap. We’re in my van, AC/DC is playing. It’s your favourite song, you know the one.

I’m gonna miss this. I’m gonna miss this so much. We’re not even doing anything and I am having the best time of my life.

What am I actually gonna do when you’re gone?? I have no idea.

I promise I’ll keep Hellfire alive and continue to give the freshman nerds somewhere where they belong. I promise to use all the notes you’ve given me for our campaign. You were always the better DM. I promise to keep playing guitar so we can jam again when you come back. The band’s not gonna be the same without you.

Nothing’s gonna be the same without you.

Once I graduate, I’m running like hell outta Hawkins and straight to you.

Wait for me. I love you.

Eddie

“Wow. I had no idea Eddie could be so sappy.” Mike chuckled.

“That boy is full of surprises.” Y/N said with a loving smile. “So how’s my weirdo doing? Does he still jump up on the tables at lunch and yell things?”

“Yeah, yeah he does.” Mike chuckled again.

“Well it was much more annoying when it was both of us up there and we’d be dancing from table to table.”

“Eddie dances?” Mike asked in disbelief.

“Only with me.” Y/N shrugged. “We’d do anything to piss off those jocks. They hated us way before we did any of that shit anyway.”

“Yeah sounds about right.” Mike nodded. “This guy Jason is the worst.”

“Jason Carver?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah you know him?”

“Yeah I know the little shit. He acts like he’s king of the fuckin’ world. I bet he’s worse now that he’s a senior. He had this girlfriend, Chrissy, sweet little thing. Way too good for him.”

“They’re still dating.” Y/N made a disgusted noise as Mike handed her the letters back. She took out a Polaroid from the box before placing the letters down. She smiled at it fondly then handed it to Mike.

The photo was of her and Eddie at her graduation. Eddie was grinning as Y/N’s arms were wrapped around him, kissing his cheek. Mike turned it over to read the message on the back.

You get the fuck outta here and never look back. I’m right behind ya babe.

Mike suddenly felt a twinge of sadness.

“Y/N?” He said.

“Yeah?”

“When’s the last time you were in Hawkins?”

“The day after that picture was taken.”

“Wha- really? So you haven’t been back to visit in the last year and a half??” Y/N shrugged.

“We always planned to get out of that shitty town and never go back. Besides, plane tickets aren’t cheep. The only reason I’m even in California is because my Uncle said he would look after me.” Mike could see she was sad too, really.

“… don’t you miss him?”

“More than anything in the world.” Y/N said softly. She looked over that the calendar hanging on her wall. “Mike, when are you going back home?”

“Next Saturday.” Y/N got up and looked closer at the dates. She mumbled to herself.

“Well I don’t have anything due around that time… and I’ve got some money saved up…fuck it.” She turned back around. “You wanna see Eddie loose his collective shit?”

Mike grinned, standing back up.

“Uh yeah?” He replied, like she even had to ask that question.

“Well then, I’ve got a plane ticket to buy.”

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #st eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #edddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things spoilers #reader x stranger things

[elsweetheart]

cats cradle

synopsis: ellie and her failed lab experiment bestie navigate her first ever heat.

♪ lana del rey, the weeknd — stargirl interlude ♪

cw: whew, this is gonna be a lot. fem reader, reader is a failed lab experiment which gives her cat like appearance in a few ways (ears, tail, claws etc) not furry porn, reader is mentioned to be 20 purely just for detail purposes but you can just change to whatever in your head idk, readers tail touches ellie in the night without knowing really lol, smut / strap on sex / foreplay / dry humping, overstimulation, small blood kink feature but nothing crazy at all, reader is just crazy and horny and primal, cockwarming. lmk if i missed any !

an: alrighty, here it is. i cannot stress this enough — if this isn’t your kind of thing, please just don’t read it. i won’t be offended if you don’t, i just don’t wanna hear any bs in my inbox please! this was experimental and i don’t even know if i like this fic or not so please be gentle. to the people who have been so sweet and encouraging throughout my up and downs of writing this, thank you and i love you! as usual, minors and ageless blogs do not interact you aren’t welcome here. enjoy! 🐈‍⬛ 🤍

WINTER

Spring would be here soon. That was all you could think of, a dull anxiety thrumming in the pit of your stomach at the thought. You stared at the solitary bright yellow flower peeking through its blanket of snow, the downfall of ice from the blizzard outside the window beating it mercilessly against the wind— and yet it stood, continuing to pop back up, almost like it was taunting you. You wished you could love spring. The thing about seasons changing was that they happened without permission and whether you liked it or not. Truthfully, you loved the idea of flowers and dresses and warmth on your skin, but it made it all the more difficult to hide the…elements of you that people wouldn’t understand. You weren’t talking about scars, or hair or bumps, no. You were talking about —

“What’cha lookin’ at.” The mellow voice of your best friend Ellie Williams broke you out of your thoughts, traipsing up behind you to sit with you on the window seat, tucked into an alcove below rotting bay windows in the abandoned house the two of you were holed up in on patrol, whilst the blizzard outside came down hard. She gets comfortable, drawing her knees up as she leant against the chipped paint, accommodating to make more room for you. Your head snapped towards her, towards her grey hoodie that — wasn’t you wearing that last night? shutup, and her khaki green jacket zipped up over it, jeans and Converse and messy bun tucked into the nape of her neck. Pretty. Always pretty. Always just a friend you couldn’t touch. Not how you wanted to, anyway.

“Nothing? Just watching the snow fall.” You sigh out wistfully, knowing you’d both rather be in bed on this early, freezing cold morning.

“Yeah? Y’looked worried about something.” She rasps, toeing you with the dirtied white tip of her maroon chucks and tilting her head. You dart your eyes back to the yellow flower springing up to see it finally get pummelled down by a huge globe of powdery snow. Hah.

“Just scared the snow will cover up the door and lock us in here.” You nibble your lip, tugging your pink wooly hat tighter over your head, ensuring it was still in place. She shook her head, casually, and her blasé attitude to most things often eased any anxieties that dwelled within you.

“There’s a smashed window in one of the rooms I checked, can climb out if we need to. S’why it’s so fuckin’ freezing in here.” She rubbed her arms in tribute to this statement, puffing out her cheeks for a moment. “You not cold?”

“Oh, I’m cold.” You flit your eyes over her with faux judgement. “Just not being a baby about it.” She huffs out a laugh, folding her arms.

“Fuck you, dude.”

Dude. You roll your eyes. Always dude, but ‘baby’ in your late night daydreams. You scrub the thought away.

An hour passes, and the snow is still coming down hard. 8:54AM.

“Okay, I’m sorry — what do you mean you’ve never played truth or dare before. Have you like, never met someone your age?” She’s smirking, always relishing in your lack of general knowledge because honestly, it made her feel like she had more to offer and teach you. You’re drawing a palm tree on the window’s condensation, the tropical sight doing nothing to mask the dreary weather outside of it.

“Okay first of all, we aren’t the same age — you’re twenty-two. That’s a few more years of experience to learn stuff that I haven’t.”

“And how old are you again? Eighteen?” She pretends to think.

“Twenty. And you knew that, idiot.”

She snickers, muttering a teasing “Baby face.” under her breath, drawing a comical penis shape with her finger beside your palm tree making you tsk and swat her away.

“Secondly, no— my old camp were all like, old people. I was the youngest there. Didn’t have anyone to teach me any of your weird games.”

It took you about twelve years of your life to realise that normal preteen girls didn’t have pointed ears atop their head, or a tail, or retractable claws and fangs. You knew you were different, yes. No one else in your small camp had features quite like yours, and you really knew you were different because you spent your life in hiding. Under protection. Ears shoved under hats and tail bunched beneath tight jeans. Hence, you know — the fear of warmer weather approaching.

You didn’t quite know where you came from and you were okay with that. Whispers between the couple that raised you, talks of your real dad being a scientist before this all went down which explains things… enough. You didn’t really want to know how you ended up this way, because it couldn’t have been good — or ethical for you to grow up part girl part animal.

19 years old, and you had moved into Jackson. Found at the gate. No more camp. No more found family. Just a girl who survived, stood in the snow. You’d met Ellie, a friend of Jesse who’d found you — and the two of you had hit it off instantly, as friends of course. Ellie liked how different you are to her, pretty naive with lots to learn in comparison to her hard edges and weathered attitude. When you weren’t biting back playfully at her sarcasm you were the ray of sunshine she’d needed in the snow globe that she lived in. She’d even stepped up to take you with her on patrol and ease you into learning how to fend for yourself a little, a skill you never acquired with your old group. That brings you here, sat on a window seat, trapped by a blizzard, doing very little learning. Okay, back to you Ellie.

“Truth or dare is not weird, I swear. Look, we can play it. Pass the time whilst we wait for the blizzard to chill out. You in?”

“Okay.”

“So,” She crosses her legs now. “You can pick, truth or dare. If you don’t answer your truth, I get to pick a dare. And uh, vice versa. Yeah. It’s simple.”

You nod, and she continues — rambling in typical Ellie style.

“Like, okay. Truth or dare?”

“Dare!” You grin happily.

“Alright, I dare you to run into the blizzard naked.”

“Uh — truth! Truth!” You change your answer, making her laugh.

“Alright… tell me about your first kiss.” She’s giddy, on the precipice of a laugh, dying to make fun of whatever story you come out with and you falter, dragging your eyes back to the window. The palm tree you drew in the condensation is starting to drip and create long clear lines down the window.

“I already told you, never met people around my age so… haven’t had one.” You shrug, peeling a bit of old paint off the windowsill. You glance up and she’s nodding with her lips turned down, trying really hard not to look judgy because she wasn’t, she swears and she didn’t want you to feel bad. She tucked away the thought that she found it cute. Found you cute. The thought of being your first kiss flashed through her mind as quickly as she erased it.

“Alright. No shame in the game. We’ll get you there.” She pats your foot reassuringly and you tense up in embarrassment slightly, a claw spiking through the knit of your glove making you close your palm into a fist on your lap. Ellie had heaps of experience, which kind of made your confession more embarrassing.

“Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” Her answer is almost instant.

“Boring.” You giggle.

“Whatever.”

You sigh… eyes wandering around the room, over the dusty canvases on the wall with paintings of mountains, perhaps the very mountains that surrounded your town— you couldn’t tell. What could you ask her? What did you actually want to know? What didn’t you already know? You bite your lip, eyes flickering around.

“Take your time.” She raises an eyebrow and you huff at her impatience.

“Okay, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else before. A secret that’ll literally bind us for life.” Your eyes twinkle and now it’s her turn to falter. She doesn’t want to glance at her covered arm, but she does anyway. Not that you’d ever be able to guess her big secret. No one could, you probably wouldn’t even believe her.

“Good question, see you’re getting the hang of it.” She raises her eyebrows, impressed and you bask in the sound of the icy winds outside, head slowly tilting to the side as you watch her grow a little uneasy. Ellie Williams, your best friend had a big secret. And you knew all of her secrets, so you were doubly intrigued. You knew about the time her and Dina got too drunk and kissed before practically yelling at eachother that it felt too wrong and they’d never do it again, you knew about the time she didn’t wanna trade any items at the little store for food so she selfishly shoved a can of tomato soup in her pocket and ducked out, knew all the rest of them because you remember her drunkenly shoving her hand over your giggling mouth and whispering “You actually can’t tell anyone, okay? Shit, why do I tell you these things?”

“Okay. I’m immune.”

“To being slapped? Answer my truth or face your forfeit.” You were grinning ear to ear, like she thought you would and — she nearly wanted to just leave it there. Let you believe she was joking. But oh, your perceptive self. You saw the falter of her bashful expression, the way honesty coloured her face and for once she couldn’t make eye contact. Surely not? “Immune?” You repeat, more like a statement but you’re confused nonetheless.

“Uh, yeah.” There’s no humour in her tone and yet you’re still smiling, waiting on her still to smirk or chuckle or something. When you just stare at her, she starts to undo her jacket. “I can uh, I can kind of prove it, I guess?” She pushes her hoodie sleeve up, and you’re faced with the tattoo you’ve stared at many times before. The pink pad of her finger traces along the inside of her arm, and your eyes focus — honing in on the faint scar curtained behind the dark blue ink. “There… was a bite here. Me and my friend were together when we were kids and we both got bit. She turned and… yeah, guess I’m still waiting.” Her eyes were distant, and yeah — Ellie played jokes on you sometimes. You were gullible and naive, not having faced the usual prankish behaviour of people similar in age to you before but this? She wasn’t that great of an actor. There was actual, real life pain behind her avoidant gaze.

“You’re serious?” You furrow your brows and she purses her lips, a pinkie-finger of gesture held in the air.

“Swear.”

You stare at her arm, and she reaches for her jacket again — feeling the chill of the house again despite an uncertain heat creeping up her neck. “How do you know it wasn’t just a one off?”

She shrugs. “Guess we’ll know if I get bitten again.” She chuckles dismissively. You go to speak, tell her how life changing her secret was but she’s quicker. “Alright, your turn. Now I’ve told you something no one else knows you gotta do the same. Biggest secret, go.” She exhales, and it feels like the room is alleviated of some of the pressure.

“Excuse me, what if I wanted to pick dare?”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Well then.”

Your ears twitched and you brought your knees to your chin. Ellie was just so vulnerable with you, but you’d always been told — under every single circumstance not to tell anyone about your…rarity. It was something that not even you understood, so sharing it with others could put you in danger. People often lashed out at what they didn’t understand, you were told it was that way in the old world too— though you’re sure people weren’t quite dealing with being a hybrid with a literal animal.

“I’m not sure you’re ready for my secret.”

“Dude, I just fucking told you I can’t get infected, you’re not gonna top that.” She exasperated, prodding your leg with her knuckles. She didn’t beat around the bush with her secret, or make you beg for the reveal — so you figured you’d cut straight to the chase. You pulled your hat off your head, ears standing to attention — hearing just that tiny bit clearer. Ellie raised an eyebrow, not sure what she was looking at, about to make some kind of comment like ‘Uh, your secret is that you have hair?’ — until her eyes darted up and stayed there. You pulled off your gloves too and held your hand between the two of you, sharp claws extending. Ellie jumped, and you pulled back shamefully.

“What is… what am I… what am I looking at?” She gawked breathlessly, eyes widening at the way your ears twitched shyly, the outside of them coated by fur the same colour as your hair, the inside of your ears pink, sprouting wispy white hair from it. Ellie could barely keep her mouth closed.

“Yeah, so… I’m like a girl who is also a cat who is also just a girl— nothing weird I swear — apparently my dad was a scientist and he made some fucked up combination DNA and — ah, it doesn’t matter. I’m a freak. Laugh it up.” You ramble, waving your hand in a way you hoped was dismissive and in that moment a gun to your head wouldn’t have made you make eye contact with the auburn haired friend parallel to you.

“Hey, wait — I’m just trying to… holy shit?” She furrows her brows before chuckling. “I feel like I’m having a weird ass dream right now, dude.”

You reach for your hat to shove it back on, and her heavy hand lays on top of yours. She watched the way your ears flattened like aeroplane wings and you frowned a little. “I’m sorry… I’m not laughing at you. That’s… fucking awesome. You’re like a comic book character, man.”

Your eyes lifted from her hand, heart thundering in your chest both from her reaction to your big reveal and her hand laying on yours. “So, a freak.” You go to move your hand but she grips it.

“No, just… cool… don’t… put your hat back on yet. I’ve got questions.”

A pause sat between the two of you, and she broke out into a smile again. “Fuck you, your thing totally beats my thing.”

“Thats not a question, Els.”

11:20AM

“So does this mean you’re immune too? Pretty sure animals can’t get infected.”

The window had fogged over completely now, view of beyond the window obstructed but you didn’t mind. It felt more enclosed, in a good way. The outside world didn’t exist anymore.

“I’m not fully an animal though. Don’t wanna risk finding out.”

She sat back, looking at you incredulously. Not like you were a spectacle, or a circus performer from the old world — but like you were something magnificent. Like a unicorn, or a fairy.

“This is gonna… take me some time to get used to. You sure you’re not fuckin’ with me?” She turns her head suspiciously.

“Oh I’m pretty sure. Had to live my whole life with cat ears and a tail, would be a awfully sick prank.” You huff, focusing your attention on scraping off the shimmery pink nail polish you had acquired on a previous patrol. You’d painted them to distract from the subtle claw-like appearance they had even when they weren’t extended.

“You have a tail? Show me.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll just pull down my pants.”

“Oh shit, yeah. My bad.”

You sat together, and you shifted under her gaze, palms itching to pull your hat back over your ears, shielding yourself from her prying gaze. This was… out of your comfort zone. You trusted Ellie with your life, sure. But this was a lot. You’d been hiding this element to your self your whole life and suddenly you’re practically hollering it from the mountain tops all because you were enticed to share a secret during a silly little game? Who else would you tell just because they’d given you positive attention?

“You wanna touch my ears?” You blurt out. What the fuck?

Ellie’s smile grew, telling you her answer and it was too late to take it back now. She slid her ass forward a little, knees pressing directly against yours now and lifted her hand slowly, carefully, almost as though you’d spook like a real cat if she moved too quickly. You seemed to blink, and then she was right there, her face so close to yours that her warm breath fanned over your face making your eyelashes tickle at the breeze she created. She clears her throat, eyes just floating up above your hairline and you feel the pads of her fingers gently trail down the backs of your ears.

She lets her knuckles gently smooth back the velvety fur coating, before getting more comfortable — short blunt nails scratching right in that sweet spot behind them. With the ball of her hand gently pressed to your temple as she scratched, you melted. The best way to describe it would be the feeling of sinking into a hot bath after being out in the cold wind, rain and snow. A sheet of goosebumps lined up across your arms and up your spine, your tail struggling in your jeans to curl up in pleasure. There was a gentle humming sound, like an engine maybe… a low rickety wind passing through a wooden floor board…

“Are you purring?” She cooed, and your eyes fluttered open. You don’t even remember closing them. The ghost of an alarmed bullet shot through your body but it just… felt too nice to react. Your pupils were dilated to fuck, it was almost startling to see.

“I guess.” You chuckle, a shudder flying through you, the warm purring sound continuing on. “Sorry.” You offer, but it’s half hearted.

“No, don’t.” She whispers with an impressed smile, eyes pinned by your intense gaze — voice gentle, as if not wanting to break the intimate force field she’d created around the two of you. “You’re so… cute.” She grins enough to show her teeth now, you rest the weight of your head more into her hand, pushing for more scratches now that her fingers slowed down, distracted. Your eyes flutter closed, sleepy and euphoric— and then open once more, a constant battle between wanting to just melt away, and also wanting to look at Ellies beautiful face so close up. She seemed to get closer each time you opened them, eyes drifting from your blackened gaze… to your lips…

Maria’s voice was the last thing you expected to hear in that moment and you both jumped. It was static-y, buzzing, making your head snap towards the radio Ellie had let clatter to the floor beneath the window seat. “Blizzards gone and cleared up now, two of you can start headin’ back now before it decides to pick up again.”

You swipe at the fogged window creating a viewing hole through the condensation, snow settling now instead of batting down hard against the ground. You sigh out, and you’re not sure if it’s in relief of the weather clearing up or the tension breaking — but Ellie seems to be shaking herself out of it too.

“Alright, uh — y’ready to head back out there kitty-cat?” She’s back to her usual self, hopping off the window seat and scooping her backpack and radio off the ground, securing them back onto her person.

“Ready as ever. Can’t wait to go home and nap.” You stretch, now standing beside her waiting for instruction. She sways in your direction with a smirk, raising a brow.

“A cat nap?”

“Are you gonna do this from now on?” You hide your amusement, leaning on your hip. She chuckled to herself, pulling her gloves back on before nodding her head for you to follow — taking off in a casual stride.

“Sorry. Let’s go get Shimmer from the garage.”

You pout, padding along behind her as you think of her stood there alone. “I hope she wasn’t too cold. She was shut in there for ages.”

“She’ll be fine. Old girl’s a trooper.”

SPRING

You didn’t regret telling Ellie, infact you were so glad.

It seemed to have brought you closer, the two of you against the world. The weather had finally cleared of snow by mid April, the green returning to all of nature. She’d helped you accommodate, coming to your home in the mornings and helping you pin your ears down to your head, gently manoeuvring your hair to sit on top of them, inconspicuous. Asking you “Does that hurt?” and “Can you hear?” in a sleepy morning voice. You, on the other hand would sit there trying not to pur at her touch. There was still some bite in the air, especially around evening time so you could still get away with stuffing your tail into your jeans, but the two of you often walked around in the sunshine on the days one or both of you weren’t outside the gate on patrol. Nights were spent having sleepovers, falling asleep cuddling because you know — it was convenient and cold at night time, especially convenient if you were getting up early for a patrol together. Definitely not because you wanted to spend every waking moment together.

You had been curled up reading, relaxed, ready to head to bed in an hour or so when there was a knock at your door. Your ears perked up, and you scuttled out of bed and looked through your peep hole, relieved to find the wind bitten, pink cheeked face of your best friend. You figured she’d just gotten back from patrol, swaddled in a khaki green windbreaker and jeans, hair in your favourite style — half up half down. You swing the door open, ushering her in.

She doesn’t mean to ogle you, but it happens anyway — eyes drawn to your bushy tail shyly curling round your thigh, a hole cut in the back of your pyjama shorts specifically for that reason when you turned around. “Hey you, couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way back to my house. Plus, I got somethin’ to show you.” She wiggles her brows, heading to your room.

“Y’want a drink?” You call after her to which she promptly replies with “Please!” already disappearing into the warm comfort that was your bedroom. Your bedroom, a God damn hassle for Ellie to construct. You had… a vision, and that vision became Ellie’s problem when you’d started to build your little home space. “Els if you see any pink blankets on your patrol today please please please grab me one?” “Ellieeee I need a picture frame, like — a cute one.” “If I don’t get a fluffy throw cushion for my bed soon, I might die.” The list goes on. Her patrols were ever-filled with heavy backpacks, trinkets carefully balanced on top of eachother or stuffed into pockets. She smiles warmly at the memory, walking around your room — taking in each item along with its memory of finding it and smuggling it back into Jackson. Her eyes are glazing over your bed sheets now, thinking about you curled up in the you-spaced shape you’d left on the blankets, thinking about you fast asleep in the night beautiful as ever, thinking about you writhing on them with less clothes on — gross, Ellie — shake it off.

A matted tuft of darkened hair peeped from your mass of bed covers and Ellie squinted, bending over to get a closer look before pinching it with her fingers and lifting it. A clump of hair sat in her palm and she raised her eyebrows. Was that a —

“What you lookin’ at?” Your voice is sudden, lighthearted, right behind her— and she jumps, turning her head over her shoulder to glance at you guiltily. You stand wide eyed and innocent, a glass of water for her clutched in your hand.

“Jesus, fuck — we gonna have to get you a collar with a bell on it or what?” She rolls her eyes, clutching her chest before recovering, taking her glass and sipping as she holds up her findings. For a moment, something twitches in you down below at the thought of wearing a bell around your neck for Ellie. The feeling is warm and homely and disgustingly horny and you feel a little shame. She swallows her water an ‘ah’ and explains “Was just uh— I found a fur ball.”

You look at the clump of hair in her hand, then up at her, then back to the clump — and then you’re moving past her. You straighten out your blankets, revealing a hair brush and hold it up— plucking the ‘hairball’ from her hand and grasping it side by side. “From my hairbrush… doofus.”

Ellie makes an ‘o’ shape with her mouth and chuckles, scratching her arm awkwardly after placing down her glass — feeling maybe she’d jumped to a conclusion. This feeling is unfortunately confirmed when she sees your brows furrow, softening in stature ever so slightly.

“Do you really think I’m like… dirty and animalistic? I don’t get fur balls, Ellie.” You sound defeated and just a smidgen whiny, but she’s a sucker for it and grasps your arms gently either side with two strong hands.

“No! I’m an idiot! I’m sorry. Total jackass.” She reassures and you tilt your head, pout turning into a gentle smile. This gives her the green light to move things along. “However, I did get you a little something that might help us understand your… condition a little better.” The auburn haired girl is already shucking off her black beaten up backpack, struggling with the zip for a moment before sliding out a thick hard back book, a manual of some kind. Her eyes are on you, searching for any sign of offence and you catch the title when she spins it around proudly — ‘Caring for your kitty’.

She’s off like a race car with an excited explanation before you even get the chance to breathe, opening it up and flicking through it. “Stopped at that old library today, you know the one we thought the entrance was blocked off and we couldn’t go inside? Well — Jesse found another way in — so I was just lookin’ around, seeing if there was anything interesting and I found this bad boy. It tells you everything you need to know about caring for a cat and well… don’t wanna be a dick but… I’m caring for a cat, kind of.”

As she spoke, your grin only widened — pathetically, and totally embarrassingly so, because it was going against everything you had taught your self. You’d wanted to push this side of you down for what, your whole life? And then Ellie comes along, with her pretty green eyes and her tattoo and her hand veins and her — whatever, and suddenly you’re completely and utterly embracing the fact you’re like, absolutely fucked up, genetically? Crushing on your best friend makes you do crazy, stupid things. You bat your eyelashes at her, regardless.

“You care for me?” It was kind of a joke, but your voice came out softly anyway and Ellie couldn’t look at you because of it, continuing to thumb through the pages, very concentrated, what was that one page again?

“Why’d you think I brought this big ass manual back? Wanna look after you.” She mutters. You soften completely, and she realises that she said that out loud. You look at her, and she looks at you — and then she looks away because God damn, she’s falling in love. “Anyways. Thought we could go through it together. You got those sweatpants I left here? My jeans are like, damp.” She rambles, and you let it slide — though you’re positively floating when you point her to your dresser, pressing the neatly folded grey pants into her arms with a hazed out smile. “Thanks.”

You turn around when she changes. You’re not sure why, she’s wearing boxers — and you have some skirts stashed away that are probably shorter and more revealing (which you unfortunately couldn’t wear due to having a tail) but you look away anyways, out of respect. You clamber back onto your bed waiting for her, and soon she’s sliding up beside you in just her black tshirt and sweatpants, comfy and warm. Ellie clears her throat, sitting up against the headboard and opens the manual for the two of you to check out. “Ahem, caring for your kitty. With special thanks to Juliana.” She reads formally and you giggle, scooching closer until your cheek is pressed to her arm so that you could see the book. “Shout out to Juliana.” She comments, flipping the page.

You snuggle in closer to her, because well — it feels natural. The two of you had always been affectionate since becoming friends and since you’d shared your secrets it had only become more binding. When Joel had comment that you two were literally attached at the hip, it was by no exaggeration. The fat of your cheek pushed up enough to shut one eye as you practically tried to merge with her bicep, warm breath tickling her light arm hair.

“Y’always smell like oatmeal.” You comment, voice sleepy from her warmth and she’d barely even gotten the chance to read anything yet.

Her hand freezes on the page for a millisecond as she acknowledges your statement. “So— wait, oatmeal? That’s gross dude. I don’t wanna smell like oatmeal.” She complains, causing you to lift your head having busted out into a giggle fit. She lifts her hand and sniffs it, looking at you with a displeased expression trying to decipher your observation.

“No! It’s a good thing I like it. It’s just… Ellie smell.” You rub your eye tiredly and she’s fighting every urge not to kiss all over your cheeks at how God damn adorable you are.

“Oatmeal. Great.” She chuckles, shaking her head before nudging you with her elbow — a silent command for you to lay back down on her so that she could read.

And the two of you did, for a little while anyway. The manual was more helpful than the both of you had originally thought, and you came to realise that you had a lot more in common with the animal than you’d had believed. Between each paragraph, the two of you would launch off into conversations and comparisons, Ellie asking you questions about your behaviours and habits. It made your heart swell at how much she truly cared. “Kitten will feel attached to her owner when being scratched behind the ears.” Ellie reads out monotonously, thinking, before reaching up and scratching behind your ears. “To say I’m your owner would be a little crazy, I must admit. Can’t deny you some good old scratches though.” She chides in amusement, watching your happy smile melt into a dozed pur. You can own me, Ellie — God you can —

She read and read and read until you were nodding off, eyes fluttering shut and disappearing off into a dream land as Ellie’s raspy voice trails off, fondly watching you as your lips parted a little, more of your warm weight sinking into her side. “Okay.” She whispered, to no one in particular— and closed the book quietly, stretching to reach behind her and place it on your bedside table, turning off your lamp too.

Ellie was always a light sleeper, maybe she was paranoid or just protective — because she seemed to wake up constantly when she’d stay with you. Not that you didn’t make her feel more relaxed than anyone ever had, because you certainly did. She just… fuck, she didn’t know. She needed to be alert at all times. Just in case.

Tonight was like any other time, stirring at the cooing of a heavy wind outside the rattling windows. Her eyes found the back of your head immediately and settled a little, comfortable and dozed with the feeling of your ass grazing her front and the warmth of your back blanketing her. You slept like two people in love and if she were more awake she’d probably mourn the relationship that was out of her grasp. Too much of a pussy, too much of a risk to ruin things. But this, this she could enjoy in her half awake consciousness.

She was about to drift back off, perhaps a deeper sleep this time knowing that everything is alright and you’re safe from the harsh winds of Spring. Until, she felt a prodding. That was the best way to describe it. Like you were poking her, despite both of your arms being curled at your front visibly. She panicked for a moment, which woke her enough to open her eyes and gaze down at whatever the hell was poking her in the stomach. Your tail.

It curled at the end like a question mark, curious and wandering. She watches, fascinated at how you could be sound asleep and yet your tail had a mind of its own. It knocked on her, like it was asking for entry before it poked lower, lower, Jesus, lower. Without time for her to respond, your tail slots itself between her thighs, curling around and cupping her cunt. She gasps, bringing a hand up that was originally going to cover her mouth, but ran over her own head instead, frozen and unsure of what to do in this situation.

Why was your tail touching her up whilst you slept innocently on the other end of it? She knew you were sleeping for sure because of the quiet snores and the even quieter hum of your pur — making her wonder how she never noticed it before you’d told her about your rarity. Your tail slithered like a snake as if trying to get comfortable, which made Ellie’s mouth hang open as it practically moulded itself to the shape of her. The agile tip of your tail curled around, brushing against the material of her sweatpants all the way up to her clit and she winced, enough to stir you a little. Your tail seemed to go a little limp as you groan quietly, your sleep disturbed. God, what if she wakes up and finds me like this? Her fucking tail getting me off. That’s weird, oh god — you’re a creep Ellie. Move, move now. Jesus.

She spins around so the two of you are back to back, staring at the wall. Ellie clenches her thighs so that your tail can’t slip through them and grope her again, frowning as she squeezes her eyes closed in shame at how good it felt. It was wrong. Wrong and creepy and awful and she hated herself for letting it go on for that long. She willed herself to sleep, repeating those words like a mantra.

The next day you plant flowers together in the community garden. She doesn’t bring it up.

SUMMER

There were certain pages in the manual that the two of you would skip. It was too awkward, too intrusive — pages you would separately read in your own time.

If you don’t get your female cat spayed, they’re going to go into heat. How exciting! And if you’re experiencing kitty in heat for the first time, you’re probably wondering: how do I cope with this? Dealing with a restless, frisky kitty may seem like a challenging task, but it’s not nearly as difficult as you may think. We’ve outlined plenty of quick tips and suggestions to help calm your cat down in the short term, as well as some solutions to prevent heat in the long term. In just a few minutes, you’ll be able to give your loving furball the support and respite she needs during this tough time.

Ellie snickered when she read it the first time, a night where you’d fallen asleep at her house, curled up on the end of the bed by her feet. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, it just happened — trying to give yourself space on the particularly warm evening. Not everything in this manual applied to you, like you’d insisted plenty of times — you’re mainly all human. Despite the purring, you hadn’t felt you’d demonstrated any feline-like behaviours (Ellie disagrees strongly, but can’t bring herself to argue.) That night she had sat up later, reading about cats in heat — wondering if… you’d ever… what would she do… no, Ellie. Stop.

When summer had approached, something had flipped. Things were normal until they weren’t— and at first you could blame it on the weather, the serotonin flooding everyone’s systems from the influx of Vitamin D, being able to wear less and enjoy more. Days seeming longer. Life seeming better. You’d grown more affectionate with Ellie, not fighting the urge anymore to be touching her at all times. Gently sinking your teeth into her freckled skin when you felt the urge, wrapping your tail around her leg when you’d stand side by side in your kitchen, clambering onto her lap with the manual and urging her to read some more so you could get sleepy and comfortable and fall asleep on top of her. You saw the way people would look at the two of you around Jackson together, they thought you were together — and you didn’t mind — even though you weren’t. Just two super close best friends.

When the calendar had rolled over to July, things seemed to intensify by ten. Things were changing, urges growing stronger. You couldn’t control yourself purring when Ellie would simply enter the room, kneading your claws into your seat of the canteen area pulling up threads, needing to be near her. Practically vibrating the floorboards in total bliss when she’s give you a friendly, subtle ear scratch in public being careful not to unpin your ears. Saliva pooling inside your mouth with the urge to lick her all over when she’d arrive to your home late at night after a rough patrol, ready to crawl into bed beside you and surrender herself to your grabby paws hands. Wanting to pounce on her when she’d greet you by the gardens, knuckle knocking gently beneath your chin with a friendly “Mornin’ kitty-cat.” Worst of all, the growing neediness you’d succumb to each night you weren’t together, mewling as you’d grind against a pillow pretending it was her thigh, soaking the sheets. You were starting to accept that you were experiencing your first ever heat.

You particularly enjoyed summer evenings in Jackson. The air was was balmy and warm without the scalding, overwhelming sunshine like there was in the day. Most if not all citizens would be in the town centre at movie night or the bar — which created a perfectly calm and empty landscape for walks. It was one that day, the one that’s about to unfold — that you were particularly dazed. You felt high, sensitive, walking on air. You wear a bell around your neck now, a giggly patrol gift from Ellie — something that tinkles quietly and could be confused with simple jewellery to the untrained eye. It sounds each step you take, a comforting noise that was special to you and your best friend. Your summer dress grazed above your knees, and due to no one being around, you didn’t quite care that your tail would occasionally peak out when a warm breeze would pass through.

You stroll past the flowers you and Ellie had planted in spring, stroll past the empty playground with the wooden climbing equipment that you had to continue walking on from to not give into the urge to dig your aching claws into. Your mind was set on finding Ellie — Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, who’d supposedly just be returning home from patrol. As expected, nothing quite getting past your astute cat wisdom — there she stood, facing away from you in just her adorable oversized white tshirt, greenish brownish greenish flannel and long baggy denim shorts. Your whole body felt hot and the sight of her, heart pumping and palms tingling. Approaching slowly, you hear her quietly talking to Shimmer as she undresses her of her equipment, occasionally stopping to give her affectionate pats and love. Ellie was always good with animals.

Figures.

You step closer, alerting Ellie of your presence. “Here kitty.” She smirks, continuing to remove Shimmer’s saddle before turning over her shoulder, eyeing you briefly.

“How’d you know I was here?” You swoon, dumb smile on your face as you step up to her. Probably too close, but something inside of you was clawing to be able to smell her, be able to feel the warmth radiating off her body. She doesn’t react to the proximity, just lifting a finger and jingling the bell at your neck. You fight a shudder when her coarse fingertip grazes the soft skin of your neck.

“Hard to miss you. That bell was definitely a good investment, you’re not sneakin’ up on me anymore, huh.”

She continues tending to Shimmer as you watch, a fond smile on your face.

“How was patrol? ‘Missed you.” You tug at her flannel sleeve for attention and she chuckles good naturedly, rolling her eyes.

“Wasn’t gone for that long, was I? You’re always missing me lately. Is somethin’ up?” She turns her head to you again inquisitively, concern flashing through her eyes — as well as the stream of bright light from the sunset through the crack in the barn wall. She squints.

“Uh…” You sigh out softly. Yes. I need you. I want you. Come here. Fuck me. “No. I dunno.” You shrug, forcing yourself to look away, defeated. No, you’re here for a reason. “Can you come over tonight? Sleepover?” You realise you’re still clinging to her sleeve and she’s letting you, her eyes drifting to the way your hand slides downwards and catches her hand, intertwining your fingers. You know, just best friend things.

“Jesse asked me to hang out but…” She started, but trailed off when you became all fluttery lashes and bambi-eyed. “Fuck it,” She breathes. “I’m too tired for his shit today anyway.”

You grin, successful and tilt your head. “Not too tired for my shit?” and she scoffs, squeezing your hand.

“Never.”

She steps back, your joined hands bridging the two of you still. Her eyes are trailing down again. That little sundress, she hadn’t seen that before. Maybe hanging in your closet, but not out of the house. Her eyes dip lower and she sees a flash of fur swinging behind you, jostling your dress. Her eyes widen a little. “Hey.” She emphasises, nodding her head down. You’re still staring at her, at her freckles and the way they’re shaded from the sun — a halo of bronze and natural flush.

“Hm?” You sing. She furrows her brows.

“Your dress is short.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“What? Uh— fuck, I mean, yeah — but I’m saying other people might see your…” She nods again in gesture, nervous.

“Tail?” Your fingers trail up her flannel sleeve a little.

“Yeah. People might not be as… open to all that, babe.” Babe. A slip up, usually — usually said when she wanted to soften the blow, or when she physically couldn’t stop the affection from meeting her lips. You preened at the word anyway, didn’t even bother to hide it.

“No one’s around.”

Your claw traces the blue green vein on her pale wrist. You don’t remember it coming out, these days it seemed they just did it on their own. She winces at the light scratch, but she lets you anyway. Just ogling, wide eyed, a little confused and a little turned on — which confused her all the more. She silently begged herself, get a grip.

She tore her hand away, hoisting her backpack off her back and swinging it around — damn near smacking you in the face with it. “Got you a present. Know you like those.” She rushes out, sounding a little out of breath like she’d been running. You liked it, liked that you did that to her. You’re smiling and she’s like, ignoring it — because she knows you know you flustered her and that’s not like Ellie. Not like calm and collected Ellie Williams.

“For me? You shouldn’t have.”

She digs around, pulling out a black rectangular VHS tape. Hard to come by, but always a delight seeing as you had a TV facing your bed in your room that refused CD discs and would only play grainy tapes. Ellie turned it in her hands, displaying the white tape across the front that read in someone unknowns Sharpie’d handwriting ‘Disney Aristocats’

“Think it’s about cats. Thought it would be funny.” She chuckles humbly, her ‘you hate it. fuck my life.’ thoughts kicking in as expected.

“We can watch it tonight!” You grin, gently taking it from her — clutching it proudly in your hands. She relaxes, shoulders unstiffening.

“Cool. Uh, yeah.” She nods, scratching her scalp which made the half-up-bun bob at the back of her head. She looks at you, and then looks around, and then back at you. Always back at you. “Alright. Let me go home and shower, you go set everything up and I’ll be round soon. Just… get outta here, before anyone sees you. Yeah?” Ellie exasperates, softly clapping two hands down on your shoulders and spinning you around, carefully nudging you to start walking away.

“M’kay. See you then, Els.”

“See ya, trouble.” Eye roll. Or maybe her eyes just rolled back at the sight of you swishing away in your little sundress. She’s not sure.

You were stood in front of the mirror when the door knocked. Your heart jumped — like you weren’t expecting Ellie to even come for some reason — but more so because you wasn’t sure you could get away with pyjamas this skimpy. You wanted to seduce her, sure. But this was just obscene. You wore, what essentially was just a long tank top. It fell mid thigh, flimsy and thin, showing every curve and dip and plumpness to you. You didn’t ever feel insecure around Ellie, no — but she might just call you a slut.

There was no time to change, so you ran and got the door, feigning confidence. Something was… different about the way she was stood there. Her hands were in her jean pockets awkwardly, like she didn’t know what to do with them. She’d actually cleaned up surprisingly, wearing her jeans and off white wifebeater. She somewhat looked like she was trying, but maybe that was all in your head. She didn’t look you in the eye either, thick brown lashes fluttered slightly as her eyes jumped down you in segments. Tits, then tummy, then hips, and then tail. The sight of it flapping about freely made her usher you inside quickly, always aware of the risks.

“Hey furball, y’ready to watch the movie?” She clears her throat, looking around your house like she’d never seen it before. Nervous? Something else?

“Told you not to call me that, doofus. But yes, follow me.” You giggle, and that’s all you seem to do around her these days if not purring — constant girlish giggles tumbling past your lips at the slightest joke. It bordered on pathetic.

She enters your room with a chuckle, like — the type that says ‘you’re so fucking cute.’ in Ellie’s voice, if you can imagine. You’d set the movie up, the screen buzzing with static playing old timey music with the start up screen for the movie awaiting the two of you. You’d rustled together every blanket and cushion you could get your hands on to create some kind of nest for the two of you to get all cuddled up in, and even more than that if your plans went how they should. It smells like you in the room, and Ellie wants to stand there and breathe in so hard her ribs crack from the expansion just to inhale you in completely. There’s no time for that, because you’re ushering her down on the bed. It’s almost horny just from the way you push her down, both hands on the warm skin of her freckled shoulders — your smooth and grabbable thighs between her legs. “Get comfy. But not too comfy. You always fall asleep when we watch movies.”

But how could she fall asleep when you’re dressed like that? In your natural form, wearing so little and showing so much. Her palms felt like little ants were inside her skin, running around like their tiny heads were on fire — or maybe it was just the hand static from not being able to touch your electric skin, to graze her coarseness over your smoothness and hear the sizzle of you up against fingertips. She wanted to hold you by the back of the head, take all your weight, all your thoughts, all of you.

But she was here to watch a movie, like a good best friend. And if that’s what you needed that’s what she’d be.

Turns out trying to seduce someone into scratching the itch that’s been aching you for weeks was harder than expected. How were you supposed to initiate this again? Hadn’t you thought about this time and time again, written about your dream scenarios of getting down and dirty with Ellie in the middle of your diary where no one would look if they’d found it and opened it up? You’d practised this, time and time again whilst you fall asleep — or whilst you’re fucking your hand, or whilst you’re staring at her profile idly whilst she sits and draws. God, how do you make the first move?

You’re staring at her whilst this rackets your brain, and you don’t realise how shamelessly you’re gawking at her until she side-eyes you, a fond little smirk daring to grace her features — it was audacious how cute she was. “Somethin’ on your mind?”

She’s practically handing you the opportunity. Your skin burns, body pressed to hers. Her arm is wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you propped up laying back on your bed and it’s all set up perfectly. You could say a million things, you could push your weight up on your elbow and reach up and kiss the side of her rubied lips. You want to slot a hand right between your thighs there and then, relieve yourself, show her what she’s done to you. The mess she’s made out of you.

You squeak out a “Nope.” despite all of this.

You keep planning and rehearsing, not concentrating on the cat movie anymore, that’s for damn sure. Who was that old lady again? What was that cats name? Who cares. You’re staring, syncing your breath to hers. You think yourself to sleep, cheek pressed to her collar bone and soft snores. Completely unsuccessful, but there’s always next time right?

When you wake up a few hours later things feel different. You’re not touching Ellie anymore — Hell, she could be gone for all you know. But you’re feverish, throat dry and prickly. Your skin is broken out into goosebumps despite the heat, your thin tank top dress completely stuck to your skin and sheering from the pure amount of sweat drenching you. What the fuck? Were you sick? You’re panting, aching but not all over — only in your… you reach down, half awake and feel your slick coating your inner thighs, pooling your cunt. You felt feral.

Your eyes shoot open now, because — well, you can’t be doing that. Can’t be touching yourself like that with Ellie right there. The room is glowing blue, and you locate the TV screen causing it. The movie is gone, finished, and the screen is on a standby channel, quiet and staticy as it alights the bedroom. You turn to Ellie, because you need her suddenly, feeling like you’ll burst into tears or cum without touch, whichever comes first and you don’t know why. Any shyness has left you when you turn, spinning onto your hands and knees to touch her and shake her awake.

She’s laying on her front, her wifebeater having ridden up a little to display some of her back. Her arm hugs her pillow, and you don’t remember her being that sculpted — her arms, the ones that hold you when you hug and lift the heavy gates on patrol. You reach out and touch, and then grab, and then you shake her awake. “Els, Ellie please.”

It doesn’t take her much, she’s a light sleeper as mentioned before. She panics a little, flipping onto her back when she hears your trembling, whiney tone. What’s wrong? What happened? She’s reaching for you before her eyes are fully open.

“Hey, wha’samatter?” She croaks, one eye squinting shut in the bright blue glow. You go to tell her but you just whisper her name again, and again and you just need her to touch. Your hand grabs her arm again and she sits up fully, eyes widening a little as she wakes up properly. “Hey, talk t’me.”

“Look at me I’m—” You whine quietly, gesturing to your fevered appearance but you feel like you don’t have time to explain. You have no sense of patience or shame when you scooch closer, hands sliding over her shoulders so your foreheads are nearly touching. You look deranged and her cunt twitches.

“I need you Els. Somethin’ is going on with me and I just... I don’t know but I need you.” You beg. Jesus, she must be having some kind of wet dream.

“What? Uh— you — need me how?” She stutters, and she feels like a fuckin’ idiot because where was the suave flirting skills and pizazz she promised herself she’d have when the day came that you finally asked her to touch you? Let her have you? Her stomach clenches in cringe but she barely has time to overthink it because you’re moving impossibly closer. Your tits are practically spilling out and Ellie’s palms are sweating so much that it makes her insecure.

“Think somethings wrong with me, think I’m in—”

“You’re in heat.” Your words overlap and the two of you are whispering like there’s anyone else in the house that might overhear you. “Yeah, uh — shit man, I read about it in the book, you know? I didn’t know if you’d… if you’d be able to… whatever. What do you need? You need some water?” She’s rambling, needing to think carefully about her actions. She didn’t wanna take advantage of you when you were so vulnerable… was this like, weird? Not because you’re her best friend — no, this has been Ellie’s long game since you met — but because of the whole… feline thing.

“No I don’t need water Ellie, I just want you to help me. It… it aches.” You cry miserably, dropping your face into her shoulder defeatedly. She smells so good, just like her — like Ellie, but so much stronger than usual, your senses heightened by ten. It weakened you, feeling this out of control. You sniffle, rubbing your nose into her top and she rubs your drenched back — sympathetic.

“Is it because it’s like… a full moon or something?” She asks quietly and your brows furrow in annoyance, pushing yourself off her to be face to face again.

“M’not a werewolf Ellie.” You pout, and her lips twitch up into a nervous half chuckle, relaxing a little as she reaches up and smoothes her thumb between your brows. She sighs. And then laughs quietly.

“I know that.”

The two of you look at eachother for a moment, a silent conversation in the place of what should be confessing feelings. You feel like you take the first step when you glance at her lips, and she returns it by glancing at yours. The looks get more eager, and your bodies thrust closer, and you kiss.

You wished it was romantic, like you’d planned for months. But it’s needy and eager and you’re panting and whining within thirty seconds of having her tongue glide against yours. You’re lucky that Ellie is just eagerly going with it, happy to be there. You didn’t wanna make her uncomfortable or come across as forceful — but that didn’t seem to be the case at all, especially not when she let out a little groan at the feeling of of you sinking down pointed teeth into her bottom lip.

She topples back when you lean into her more and you’re clambering onto her lap, thighs shaking. You hear yourself before you realise you’re not kissing anymore, instead whispering “Please, please, please.” against her lips with your eyes screwed shut as you grind your soaked cunt onto her jean covered one. Where you’d usually make a comment about her sleeping in jeans, you pant — and she lets out an embarrassingly loud, wide eyed groan at the feeling. The zipper digs into both of your clits from either side.

“Fuck, fuck okay.” Her hands hover, and she doesn’t know where to grab first. This is happening, God this is really fucking happening. She blushes at the thought of her dorkishly pinching herself, just to check it’s not some super torturous vivid dream as her hands float before just pawing at your back, pulling you closer. Closer. Need her closer.

You shuffle back in the dark, hands fumbling for that zipper that you’d made warm and wet through your cotton underwear and tug it down so harshly you think it’s gonna come off. Buttons get unpopped, and fingers get tucked into a waistband before you’re yanking down. Ellie’s getting whiplash at the speed you’re moving, eyes flickering across your desperate and pained expression. Fat tears sit beneath your eyes as you mutter the word ‘closer’ again, an inkling of relief when you pull her jeans down to her mid thighs revealing soft black boxers.

You sit on her again, and — that’s it, that’s the friction you wanted. You can feel the raised, round mould of her pussy through the material and she gasps when you grind down onto her, forcing herself up onto her elbows, eyes rolling back a little, hands gripping your thigh creases as she stared down at your white underwear smushing itself into hers in the dim light. You’re whimpering (and so is she for a moment), hips jerking forward and Ellie genuinely doesn’t know what to do with you. It feels so fucking good, but she feels like she’s not stepping up the way she should. She wants to take control, make it all better for you like she always does.

“Fuck, okay babe. Chill, okay? Mhpm, I got you. Let me help you. S’what I’m here for right? Lay back.” She whispers, and leans forward again to ease you backwards and like she can’t help it, presses another kiss to your lips. You both freeze, because this time it has feeling behind it. That’s also what you needed, you needed her to take control. You relax for a moment, letting her roll you onto your back barely breaking apart the kiss.

When she pulls back, she strokes your hot cheek with her thumb — staring into each others eyes. Hers are still beautiful and vibrant even in the feverish blue light, glancing all across your face with concern and fondness etched into her features. “Kay?” she speaks, tapping her thumb to your cheek for a response and you nod, huffing out a breath. Okay. Try to calm down.

She kisses the corner of your mouth, which trails inevitably into the crook of your neck, her swollen lips sucking the slippery skin with a hum. Your fingers are bunched tightly into her shirt and her jeans are still below her ass from your dry humping craze. You take some deep breaths, and she hears you — outwardly appreciating your efforts to be calm. “Thats good, keep doin’ that.” She whispers when you push air out of your mouth shakily, and the praise makes your legs fall open limply.

“You gonna let me help you out, pretty girl?” She kisses the centre of your chest and you mewl, body vibrating with purs as you nod. “Tell me, please. I’ve uh, I’ve waited so long to hear it.” She sounds nervous in the sweetest way possible, making you even in your haze reach out to comfort her, pushing her auburn strands out her face as she looks up at you pleadingly.

“Please help me Ellie, want you to touch me.” Your voice is jumpy from your shudders, and it transfers to her — your eyes just catching the way she trembles a little from adrenaline in the dark.

“Alright baby, I got you.”

Hearing her call you baby like you’d always hoped she would makes you heave out a sigh, pushing your hips up into her body weight trying to relieve yourself somehow. She shushes you, distracted by the feel of you beneath her palms now as she drags them down your body. Her thumbs swipe across your hard nipples through the thin material of your pyjamas and you mewl again, arching into her hands.

“Gonna make you feel better, promise.” She whispers but it feels more like she’s talking about you and not to you so you try to keep quiet so that you can just observe. She’s sliding down the bed ‘til she’s practically half off it, pushing your dress up to press fond kisses to your tummy. It feels right, like it’s something she’s been doing for months despite it being her first time down there. It’s Ellie, your Ellie. You can’t think of anyone you’d be in better hands with.

“Never,” kiss. “Had,” kiss. “Someone down here,” kiss. “Before have you?” She drags her lips downwards this time, gripping the meat of your thighs and spreading them. You sigh out a whimper and shake your head, embarrassed by how needy you were for a flash of a second before getting lost in your lust again. She whispers out an ‘Th’sokay’ against your hipbone as she pushes your thighs open before pulling back — taking a look. Her tongue wets her lips at the sight before her, eyes adjusted into the low light now to see how you’ve completely soaked through your underwear — lips fat and wanting through the material. Ellie let’s out a breath she was unaware to be holding, forefinger stroking through your covered folds with a glance upwards to make sure it was all still okay.

“God damn.” She comments, and you know what she means — she probably didn’t know it was possible to get this wet.

“Take’m off, please.” You whimper, writhing your hips around growing impatient once more and she nods frantically, peeling the cotton down your body making you hide your face in your arm when your centre clings to the fabric.

“So ready, huh.” She whispers, hot breath fanning over your bare cunt now. She breathes out a barely audible chuckle as she strokes the side of her finger across the small curled tuft of pubic hair that sat on your skin.

“Yeah, b—been ready for you Els. Wanted this for so l—ong.” You can’t stop trembling, and perhaps it was your feverish chills or the fact you were so excited to finally have your best friend in the way you’d wanted her.

“Yeah?” She cooes, but she’s barely listening — both thumbs pushing the fat of your lips outward, spreading you for her viewing pleasure. “Been hiding all this from me? But it’s so pretty…”

You sniffle, and she takes that as her sign to dive straight in — tongue flattening against your exposed clit and flicking upwards before dragging her lips down through your quantity of arousal. You moan, barely able to hear yourself through the loud purs emitting from you and buck your hips against her face.

You knew Ellie had experience, from the gutwrenching stories she’d tell you about her escapades with her ex girlfriend Cat (Funnily enough, actually her name — a foreshadowing all things considered.) But you’d figured it was just fooling around behind the barn, or maybe when Joel wasn’t home as the two of them used to share a residence. You didn’t expect her to be so… ravenous. If you knew that the girl sat beside you for so long could eat like this, you might have felt more inclined to approach her for help a little sooner.

The room was filled with obscene sounds, the sound of Ellie’s mouth ministrations which can only be compared to noise that belonged to stirring buttery pasta — mixed with her low moans against you because apparently you tasted that good. This was also mixed with, but not overshadowed by your desperate cries and purs as you pull her head further down into your crotch, panting up against the ceiling praying for release.

You hear yourself cry for “More!” and as if the thought had already sprouted for your best friend, her middle finger immediately pressed in against your hole — applying pressure and massaging that warm spot — a challenge for it not to slip right in given how wet you were for her.

“Can give you more. Lemme in, babe.” She murmurs against you when she finally sinks it in, sucking on your clit as means to get you to loosen up around her — which in hindsight wasn’t her most clear-minded idea as you only clenched harder. Ellie, much to your dismay removes her mouth for a moment to sit up on her elbow a little higher. She blows over your clit, smacking a wet kiss to it before looking up at you seriously — finger frozen only a little way in. Her free hand comes up, wide palm stroking across your lower stomach soothingly. “Gotta relax. Don’t wanna hurt you and you’re tight, babe. Relax.”

This side of Ellie made it difficult to not challenge this by clenching even harder. You could tell there was still an element of nerves to her, not wanting to fuck it up — but it just came so naturally to her to look after you. You push a shaky breath out through your mouth in a small ‘o’ shape, eager to make her proud again like before and focus on unclenching, her thumb on the connecting hand softly stroking your clit up and down to assumably aid you in this. “Good job, that’s it.”

She smiles when she returns her mouth to your folds, absolutely ecstatic to get back in there. You would have giggled at this if you weren’t so worked up, placing all your concentration into keeping loose for her and letting her press her finger up into a delicate spot you hadn’t discovered before. You jerk, briefly clenching again as her gaze snaps up to you— free hand coming back to smooth down your hip and ass, calming you. “C’mon babe, this is gonna get y’there. Help me out here.” She whispers and you try for her again, letting her press up into that toe curling devastating place. The bed rocks with movement, the same feeling you get when you’re half awake in the back of a moving car — and you glance down to realise it’s Ellie, and she’s fucking humping the bed, grunting against your pussy with her nose smushed to your clit. You feel the tears welling, and something turning like cogs in your stomach. Your orgasm approaches, but it’s only at the precipice of your cunt— the ache reaching much deeper and you panic at the idea of being left unsatisfied despite your deep lust, Ellie’s touches only making you ache more.

“Els, Ellie w—wait I’m gonna, let — wait I can’t it’s not — s’not deep enough I need more, need more it’s too —” You’re suddenly crying out, pushing yourself up with a look of absolute devastation on your face which is so sobering that she pulls her fingers out of you completely — pushing her self up at crazy speeds to meet you half way and cup your face.

“Babe, you’re panicking. Just talk to me, tell me what you need I — I can give it to you. Breathe.” She whispers, lips brushing your own as she attempts to comfort you, swiping away the tears leaking down your cheeks still. Your lip curls over, puffing out and wobbling as you suck in a quivering breath.

“More— just need to be… fucked, need you to fuck me, need it deeper.” You wail and she shushes you again, her slender hand coming back down to just cup your cunt in a way that made you dizzy, an attempt for her to comfort you and hold you in a way that you needed. Your eyes squeeze shut and tears moisten your lashes, feeling guilty for asking for such things, unsure if she can really give it to you. You didn’t want her to feel bad.

Ellie bites her lip in thought and tastes you. She did have that one thing… though she hadn’t actually used it before. It was a harness, a thick purple dildo lodged into the centre of it — stashed in a shoebox and shoved under her bed with crimson cheeks and clammy hands. She’d found it on patrol, and figured it could be useful one day maybe — a vision of you taking her with an arched back and her hips slamming against your plush ass making her wince and cup her cunt through her jeans in that very sex store. She had something that could help, and she had to push her pride aside to offer.

“Got something I can fuck you with. It’s… literally for that purpose but uh, it’s back at my place.” When she see’s the way your eyes light up with hope she’s jumping up, yanking her jeans up back around her waist, fumbling to do up her zipper as she continues to stare at you for permission. “I can run, be back in literally five minutes — do you want it babe? I’ll be so fucking fast you won’t even know I’m gone.” She’s not sure who’s begging who anymore, because since handed the opportunity Ellie has become obsessed with the idea of finally getting to fuck you good and proper.

“Yes j—just be fast, Ellie please be fast.” You mewl weakly, dropping back against the bed. She gives you a once over as she stumbles for her shoes, pulling her Converse on at a speed you didn’t think was possible and roughly tying laces. She’s out the door before you know it, leaving you to your own devices.

It feels like hours when she’s gone and you slip further into that dream-like, hazy space you’ve been fighting since she’d laid hands on you. Without her touch, the ache began to settle deep into your centre again — skin on fire and sensitive to the touch. You felt like you were being burned from the inside out without her there, rolling around on your sheets attempting to find comfort and coming up unsuccessful. The arch in your back only opened your cunt wider to the balmy air, and your nipples grew sore quickly from rubbing up against your bedsheet. A bead of sweat rolls between your tits.

Ellie’s feet hurt from the speed her Converse would slap the concrete of Jackson’s town— sprinting her way through the 4AM streets on a mission to bring you the equipment to satisfy your urges. Her heart thunders when she reaches her place, dropping her keys and swearing to herself as she fumbled to get the door open. She doesn’t bother closing it behind her when she runs inside, wood creaking beneath her heavy steps to sliding down on her knees beside her bed, reaching her hand along the dusty floor to find that shoe box. She finds it, muttering a borderline deranged ‘There you are’ before sliding it out, popping it open just to check it’s still there before slamming the lid back on and tucking the box under her arm, heading back to you.

You know she’s back because through your daze you hear the door shut and her loud high-pitched grunt of exertion, the image of her doubling over in your hallway to catch her breath coming to you almost like a prophetic vision. The ache worsens as her footsteps draw closer, her voice strained and out of breath as she calls out to you. “I almost — Fuck, almost ran into Jesse on the way to his early patrol. Saw him and, had to take a detour behind someone’s house cos’ he would have asked what was in the box and like — I can’t just get it out and show him…” Her panted words trail off when she re enters the bedroom, eyes falling on your desperate state once more.

It was a blow to her heart, seeing you so worked up. You were completely naked now in just your collar, brow slick with sweat and body practically glowing. Your tail curls around your thigh self soothingly, ears pointed high and alert. Your back arches painfully as you drag your hands down your thighs. You sniffle, defeated.

“Can’t even touch myself n’make it better cos my claws won’t go back in.” You shake, dragging your hands down your thighs desperately. Your sharp claws catch the delicate skin leaving long thin marks but you don’t even seem to notice. Ellie’s brows furrow and she rushes to you, sitting beside you on the bed and taking your hand in hers, looking at your clawed fingertips.

“Hey, don’t… don’t do that. M’here now. Can look after you yeah? Let me just…” She struggles for the box and pulls out the clattering harness and toy. You’re distracted for a moment as you watch, intrigued by the contraption that she’s pulling up her jeans and fastening at her hips. When she’s done, a purple plastic cock stands proud in the centre of her crotch, and your mouth practically waters.

It was animalistic, truly — and a little embarrassing the way you grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. She even had the nerve to stumble a little bit, her back bouncing against the sheets as she scrambled to get comfortable and you crawled onto her lap. You press your lips to hers again like she’s your life line, letting out a muffled moan because you missed her. She’d been gone for five minutes and you’d missed her. You knew she’d tease you for that if it were any other time, but this time was like no other. She groans against you too, her hand cupping up to cup the back of your head and hold you there. You couldn’t get enough of eachother, all this waiting was finally paying off.

Your thighs shake around her as you wrap your hand around the dildo, sitting back as you can rub it up and down your slick a few times, collecting it’s juice. Ellie sits up a little, watching with wide eyes. “Jesus. Y’look so fuckin’ pretty.”

Her words send a surge of need through you again and you push the fat tip against your hole, adjusting so you can sit straight down on it. She winces for you, hands hovering above your hips. “Careful you haven’t taken anything bigger than my fingers before it’s gonna—”

You groan, melting into her as you sink down all the way. She’s right, it does hurt — and you’re frozen, laying against her shoulder hiccuping and quietly sobbing at the stretch. It’s way too much, but — it scratches the itch. Dulls the ache inside. You could power through this.

Her voice is gentle when she speaks, hands slowly coming down on your back to rub soothing circles on your clammy skin. “Hey.” She leans back a little, tilting her head trying to get a look at you. “Look at me, baby.”

You do, because how could you not — blinking big wet, eyes at her in the dark. She wipes away some tears with her knuckle, brows frowned and concerned. “You gotta be careful. Okay? I don’t… I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t.” She admits, and it seems to carry more meaning than what she’s letting off in the moment. Your doe eyes well again, fist curling in her wifebeater and then loosening as you try and calm your jerky breaths. She slowly reaches down until the pads of her fingers meet your clit, engorged and pushed out from the way your cunt is stretched open around her. She rubs it in light circles, softly — making you preen into her touch. The pain of the stretch lessens and you can’t help but grind down.

With each grind, you become more frenzied — picking up the pace as you chase the feeling you’d been after. You’re moaning over the sound of your pussy squelching around her and all she can do is grab onto your ass and help you, eyes all over you. “Fffffuck, babe — look at you, takin’ it so well. Who taught you how to fuck like this huh? Thought I was your first?” She chuckles, breathless from your incessant bouncing and grinding.

“You are, Els — m—my first and my only, don’t wanna fuck anyone else ever again.” You whine, so loudly it can probably be heard from outside but who cares — not when she’s got you like this. This worked up and needy for her. It was something from her wildest dreams.

“Yeah? Wanna be my girl?” She grunts, your grinding aiding the harness in hitting her clit just right with each movement. With all this time spent helping you, Ellie hadn’t realised how pent up she was.

“Yes, m’your girl Ellie, m’your girl you — you own me!” You admit, and it seems things go a little quiet at the confession. You clench hard, burrowing into her shoulder as she processes the words. Ellie hears an incoherent ‘More’ again, and her body goes on autopilot — feet sliding up to press flat against the bed. She holds you still, arm across your lower back and pins you to her whilst she fucks up into you fast. She grunts at the feeling, and you cry. With each bounce she forces out of you, your bell collar jingles humiliatingly.

Ellie can’t seem to keep her hands in one place, leaving your back to feel the way your tits jump with each movement caging them under her hands. “Yeah, baby? Like that?” She cooes and feels you nod frantically into her, nothing but mewls and moans able to leave you. You’re gushing over her strap, walls spasming trying to suck her back in each time she draws back — Ellie feels like she can feel it herself.

“Y’own me. M’all yours forever Els.” You babble like you’re trying to keep yourself awake, alive, conscious whilst Ellie fucks up into you like it’s the last chance she’ll ever get.

“Yeah? This all mine, sweet girl?” She cooes, and finally you feel it — the hint of a knot in your stomach, the orgasm you’ve been chasing — one that resides deep inside you, the ache that felt like it could kill you, soon to be soothed by Ellie herself.

“Yes! Yes! Mphm, g’nna cum on your dick!”

Her dick. She’d never thought of it like that before. The words leaving your mouth sparked something in her, and suddenly she was the feral one. Her jaw clenches, strong hands pushing and tugging and rolling you onto your back. You gasp at the feeling of her cock sliding right out to the tip at the jostling, tits bouncing as you lay back on the bed. You looked vulgar and improper and so far from your innocent self, and Ellie couldn’t help but feel that maybe this was all on her. Maybe you wouldn’t have gone into heat if the sexual tension between you wasn’t so strong. What had she done to her sweet best friend?

You stare up at her with doe eyes, and she stares back for a moment — lips parted, jaw squared and eyes dark. This was the Ellie you’d needed.

Her hands slide up the backs of your thighs and push your knees up to your chest, pressing her strap deep inside of you. Her breathing is erratic, hair falling into her face as she thrusts in and out at a punishing pace, the tip of her cock nudging your cervix just right. It’s almost too much to take and you turn your head with a weak mewl, sound punched out of your lungs. She doesn’t let you, grabbing you by the jaw so that fucked out your eyes stayed on her own glossy ones.

“Yeah that’s right, look at me. Stay right here with me.”

“C—can’t.”

“You can. Be good, c’mon, j’st keep taking it, angel.” She moans and your toes curl. Needing her as close as humanely possible, your hand curled around the back of her head tugging her to your lips. You feel her arm pressed between the two of you, giving herself just enough space to toy with your clit as she groaned against your mouth.

You detached, unable to keep up with the kissing as you wrapped your arms around Ellie’s neck — and she was okay with that, focusing on her thrusting to get you where you needed. You squeeze extra hard with a pained mewl, every one of your moans met with a cooed ‘Yeah?’ or ‘That right?’ until you were actually finally cumming.

You’re not aware of yourself when you actually do, feeling like water was being thrown over the fire that was your body all whilst igniting another at the same time. The sounds coming from you were…a lot. Purs and squeals and moans and squelching, nothing left to do but to let Ellie ride it out for you, telling you how good you are for letting go. You hear her wince and it brings you back a little, realising you’d been scraping your fangs along Ellie’s bare shoulder — drawing thick beads of blood.

You pant, and she stares down at you with a clenched jaw as you calm your self, recuperating after that Earth shattering orgasm given by your best f— you couldn’t surely still be calling her that right? After all that?

Your eyes focus, puffy lips smeared slightly with the blood you’d drawn from Ellie’s skin and you heave out a whispered apology, trying to blink back your concentration which was proven difficult with her strap still seated deep inside you the way it was.

“S—orry, got carried away I didn’t mean to.”

She goes to shrug, but the air is then punched out of her lungs as you lean forward a little, looking at her with pensive, wide submissive eyes before flattening your tongue against the wound and cleaning it up. She watches, still not having said a word before she’s gently grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to lay flat again. Her hips shift, a slow experimental grind rolling out from her hips as she watches you. Your brows furrow, jaw gaping at the sensitivity as you grab at her strong arms in a slight panic. She takes your hands and pins them down in a soft and loving way.

“What’you doin’ Els?” You sigh out almost in one breath, and that’s when she leans down and presses soft kisses to your cheek once more, her hair tickling your nose, wanting you to feel the love radiating off her.

“Makin’ sure it’s all out your system. You’ll let me do that, yeah?” She mutters, still breathless and you whine in response with a vicious nod. “Good girl.”

Your thighs, which you hadn’t realised had tightened around her hips loosened and fell open, your tail pushing out from under you to absentmindedly tickle your own skin. Maybe it was for comfort, self soothing you through the pleasurable pain of your overstimulation.

Ellie picked up her pace a little, her movements different from before— long and lengthy rolls of her hips making sure to graze every wall inside of you. “How’s that? That make you feel good?” It’s an earnest and honest question, genuinely wanting to know but you tip your head back, controlling everything in you not to hurt her when you dig her claws into the fat beneath her ass now — trying to pull her deeper inside since she’d let your arms out of her pin.

“Feels so good, Ellie. Y’look after me so well.” You whimper, one hand reaching up to push her hair out of her face and she blinks at you a little off guard— preening at the praise a little. “My strong, clever Ellie. Always doin’ what’s right f’me.” You whine, and it seems the praising is turning the both of you on as her brows knit, lips parting just a little as she grinds harder in a way that rubs her good down below.

“Okay, okay fuck.” She chuckles when she catches herself, which only makes you bite your lip and spread yourself wider for her. The angle hits your gummy insides yet again in a way that you just couldn’t handle and your legs are jerking, eyes squeezing shut as you ride out another soft orgasm — letting her pleasure herself inside of you.

She keeps going, and keeps going, and keeps fucking going until you’re all fucked out — Ellie’s boxers soaked and the strap shiny all over from your releases. The sun is starting to come up through the blinds making Ellie squint tiredly when she rolls you over back on top of her, your thighs splayed either side of her body — plastic dick still burrowed inside of you.

She lets out a sigh of exertion and a gentle ‘Alright’ when she tries to carefully lift her hips, trying to get a good grip on the base of the dildo so she could pull it out of you but you whine, clenching around it selfishly as you smush your cheek against her — fucked out and senseless, already half asleep. “J’st keep it… keep it inside, please. Just for a little while.”

The sentence makes her heart tighten a little and she just nods, letting herself fall back and relax into the soft pillows more, hand opting to instead lazily trail up and down your back until the movements were halting with her journey into sleep— drifting off to the visions of your beautiful face, and the memory of your kisses against her lips.

She’ll ask you out officially tomorrow. For now, she could just enjoy the peace that you brought her.

#ellie williams au #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou2 smut #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #hybridkitty!reader

[hwaslayer]

home (khj) | one shot.

—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.

—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst

—word count: 24k

—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*

—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande

Home.

When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;

Hongjoong.

It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;

The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.

As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.

So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;

Hongjoong.

—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”

“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”

“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.

You couldn’t say you were surprised.

However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going. 

“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.

“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.

“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—

“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.

“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”

“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.

“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.” 

“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.

“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.

“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?

“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.

“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm. 

“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.

“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking. 

“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady. 

“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.

“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.

“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.

“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”

“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”

“You sure?” You nod.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”

“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.

So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.

“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”

“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”

“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”

“This is early to you?” 

“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.

“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.

“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”

“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall. 

“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”

“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.

“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.

“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.

“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.

“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”

“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.

“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”

“How can you tell?”

“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”

“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.

“I’m just being honest.”

“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”

“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.

“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.

“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”

“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.

“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.

“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”

“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.

“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.

“Mind if I grab one, too?”

“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.

“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light. 

“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.

“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.

So colorful, vibrant.

But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.

He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.

So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.

That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.

Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.

“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Why are you smiling like that then?”

“Not because of you.” You tease.

“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”

“Just wanted to get some air.”

“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”

“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”

“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close. 

Kiss you. 

Hold your hand.

“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.

“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”

“You— wait, what?”

“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.

“A date, hm?”

“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.

“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.

“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.” 

And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too. 

After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.

Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.

That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.

“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.

“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”

“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”

“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”

“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.” 

“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.

“Joong, I have to study tonight.”

“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”

“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”

“Really?” He says excitedly.

“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”

“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.

Welp.

You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.

When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.

“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.

“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.

The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.

“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.

“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.

“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.

Surprisingly, you do finish everything.

“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.

“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.

“Are you almost done, though?”

“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.

The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.

So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.

“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.

Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.

“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.

“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”

“Just want a kiss.”

“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going. 

And you do.

The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.

His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.

“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples. 

“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.

“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.

“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?

The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.

His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.

“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm. 

“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.

Oops.

So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.

He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable. 

“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.

“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”

“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.

“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”

“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now. 

“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.

“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.

“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.

“This is pretty to you?”

“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.

“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.

“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”

“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.

“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.

You definitely slept well that night.

And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.

“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.

“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.

“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”

“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”

“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.

“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”

“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.

“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.

“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”

“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.

“What, why?”

“He’s just so good to me.”

“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”

“Really?” He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”

“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.

So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this. 

All of this.

—SUMMER

“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.

“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.

“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.

“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’

When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son. 

But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.

You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.

It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.

“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.

“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.

“Whose house is it at?”

“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.

“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.

“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.

“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.

“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.

“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”

“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”

“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.

“Yeah, he’s an old man.”

“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”

“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”

“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.

“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless. 

The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.

“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property. 

You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.

“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi. 

“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”

“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”

“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.

“He does.” 

“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.

“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.

“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”

“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.

A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.

It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way. 

You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.

Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.

Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else. 

Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made. 

“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.

“That’s my girl.” 

“You look hella happy with her.”

“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.

“We’re not really talking.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”

“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.

Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.

“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.

“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.

“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”

“Joong.” You giggle.

“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.

“No one’s perfect.”

“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.

“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”

“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”

“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.

“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.

“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.

“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”

“In the lot?!”

“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”

“Joong, someone might see us.”

“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.

“We don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.

“Feels so good.” You whine.

“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”

“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.

You can’t believe him right now.

“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.

“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.

“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.

“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.

“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.

“Offer still stands, love.”

“What offer?”

“To sleep in my room.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”

“I do!”

“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”

“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses. 

“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.

“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.

“I hate sleeping without you.”

“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.

The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.

Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.

The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.

You, perfect for him.

You, everything to him.

And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.

You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.

You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.

You felt empty, like your other half was missing.

“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.

A night without his warmth.

“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.

When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.

Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.

How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.

—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”

“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, you didn’t.”

“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”

“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”

“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”

“That’s not the point.”

“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason. 

“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”

“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”

“You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.

“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”

“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.

Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.

But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.

Why were you doing everything wrong?

“Woo.” You cry into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”

“What happened?”

“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”

“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“He didn’t say anything else to you?”

“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”

“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”

“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.

You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.

“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.

“Joong, get up.”

“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”

“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.

“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.

“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.

“Mingi’s in bed.”

“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.

“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.” 

“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.

“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.

“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.” 

“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.

“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.

It shouldn’t be that way, though.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?

“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.

You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him. 

Oh, Hongjoong.

You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.

The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.

“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.

“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”

“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine, Joong.”

“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”

“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.

“You’re so good to me.”

“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.

Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.

It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.

A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.

A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.

As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.

Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.

And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.

When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.

“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”

“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.

“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.

The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him. 

You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.

“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.

“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.

But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too. 

“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.

“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”

“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now. 

“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”

“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”

“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.

Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.

During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.

Of course.

You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.

And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.

You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.

“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.

“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.

“Of course.”

“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”

“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”

“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.

She knows, she knows.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.

“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.

“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”

“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.

“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.” 

“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics. 

Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad. 

“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”

“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”

“Can you just listen to me for a second?”

“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.

“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.

“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”

“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”

“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.

“Yes I do!”  He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”

“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?

If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?

“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.

“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.

And it gets you every single time. 

You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.

“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open. 

Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.

That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

No one else matters to me.

You’re perfect.

Made for me.

My good girl.

And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.

Things were good, until they weren’t.

There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.

You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.

Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.

tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?

tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.

You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.

“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.

“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”

“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”

“Not my point.”

“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?

“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.

“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”

“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.” 

“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”

“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”

“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”

“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”

“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.

“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“

“To you, maybe.”

“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”

“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen. 

“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”

“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”

“How is it different?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”

“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”

“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”

“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”

“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”

“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”

“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.

“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”

“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”

“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.

“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument. 

“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”

“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.

“What happened?”

“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”

“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”

“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.

“I’m gonna go home.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”

“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.

“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.

“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”

“Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.

The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.

“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.

Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—

That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.

But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.

Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.

Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.

hongjoong: where are you?

hongjoong: y/n

hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung

hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung

hongjoong: fuck this, whatever

Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.

But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.

What’s gonna be left of this?

What’s gonna be left of you?

Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.

yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at

wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?

wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping

wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument

yunho: they fought again? over what?

wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me

yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?

wooyoung: you and me both

yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me

wooyoung: thanks

wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit

He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.

When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.

“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.

“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”

“It was so stupid.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.

“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”

“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”

“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”

“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”

“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”

“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.

“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”

“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”

“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”

“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.

“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.

“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”

“I need to shower.”

“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes. 

“Are you at least feeling better?”

“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”

“It’s cause of me.”

“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.

Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.

It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.

“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.

“Hanging up more?”

“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.

“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”

“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”

“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”

“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.

“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”

“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”

“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods. 

“She just needs her friends.”

“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.” 

“We were good friends before we even dated.”

“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.

“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.

“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”

“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.

“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.

“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”

“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.

“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.” 

“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.

“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”

And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.

Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.

The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change. 

Not anymore.

“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.

“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”

“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”

“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.

“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”

“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”

“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?” 

“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”

“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”

“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”

“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.

But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.

“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”

“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”

“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.

“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”

“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.

“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.

“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.

You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.

Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?

When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.

You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two. 

He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.

“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.

“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips. 

“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes. 

It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.

Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.

As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.

But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that. 

Fuck the rest.

—CURRENT

“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.

“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.

“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.

“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.

You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.

So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.

They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.

They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.

You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.

You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.

The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.

When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.

“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”

“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.

“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.

“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.

“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.

“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.

“You okay, baby girl?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.

“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.

“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”

“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.

Nor do you want to on your birthday.

“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”

“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.

“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”

“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.

Of your home.

“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.

“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.

The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,

Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.

The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.

A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.

It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.

The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’

hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?

tara: yeah! should i leave soon?

hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here

tara: i’ll be on my way!

tara: joongie i’m outside

hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec

You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles. 

Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.

All of that going to waste.

hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?

tara: yup!

There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].

tara: are you going to channie’s?

hongjoong: yeah, are you?

tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it

hongjoong: go 😞

tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?

hongjoong: nah shes not..

tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!

hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️

You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.

“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”

“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”

“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.

Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.

“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.

When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.

Maybe you were just the excuse.

The rebound.

The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.

It was never about you.

And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.

You are.

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”

“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.

Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.

But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.

It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.

2 years of nothing.

Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.

But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.

Because did you deserve this? All of this? 

It was never about you.

Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had. 

Now, there is nothing left of you.

Nothing left of this home you built.

—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡

—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid

#hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez #hongjoong oneshot #kim hongjoong oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut #hongjoong angst #kim hongjoong angst #him hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong fluff #kpop imagines #hwaslayer: home

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Ms. Anderson

Abby x reader

This one is an unhinged fantasy I have had for so fucking long dude. I literally had to finish this up while I was at a beach house with my family which is the most unhinged thing I’ve ever done.

Summary: Ms. Anderson hires you as a maid, but she has some particularly odd requests.

Word count: 5k of pure filth

Content warnings: maid reader, business lady Abby, Abby is also kind of a pervert hehe, teasing, use of tie as a restraint 🤭, thigh riding, clear consent 🫡, vibrator use, edging, overstimulation, Abby is referred to as Miss or Ms. Anderson most of the time, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), aftercare yay, let me know if I missed anything

Minors dni (will not hesitate to hunt you down 🥰)

Working for Ms. Anderson was a… unique experience. You’d been a maid for a couple years, you worked hard to make your way up to work in upper class houses. Better conditions meant not having to deal with cleaning up what were basically crime scenes for lower than minimum wage. There’s not much you wouldn’t do to keep your place in these houses. So when Ms. Anderson hired you, you agreed to some extremely odd requests. She offered to pay double what most clients would if you agreed to wear a maid costume. Yeah like the black collared dress and frilly white apron. You would normally just wear a button down and jeans, professional, but comfortable. Of course you agreed money was money and when it came down to it she wasn’t asking for a whole lot. Like, yes in theory the suggestion could come off as creepy, but for the amount she was paying it didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should. She lived alone too, you assumed she mostly paid for the company, the house was rarely that dirty when you came to visit.

The first day you showed up to work in the uniform you felt ridiculous. Ms. Anderson opened the door revealing you in the black collared dress, white frilly apron, sheer black tights and to top it all off a pair of black heels. She barely maintained a neutral expression while looking you up and down, slowly dragging her eyes over your whole body. She nodded and simply said “Good.” before gesturing you to come inside. You pinned the odd reaction down to nerves.

If you were being honest with yourself, you would try to be in the same room with her whenever she was home. You liked looking at her too. Every day she wore a white button down and pleated pants. Her muscular arms strained against the white fabric and the first time you saw her dressed like that you drooled a little. You could tell when she had important meetings because she would add a tie and blazer to her outfit. Those days you had a hard time keeping your eyes off of her. Occasionally you would stare too long, daydreaming about Ms. Anderson using her strength to do whatever she wanted to you. In the morning she would scroll through the news on her phone while drinking her coffee, occasionally looking up and observing you, you could feel her eyes on you even while you faced away from her. When she hired you for evenings she would watch T.V. in the living room. She would let her eyes wander to you, watching you dust and fluff pillows. She loved watching you move in the uniform, when you bent over to fluff the pillows she could catch a glimpse of under your skirt. She knew you only wore a black thong under those tights, she liked to think it was just for her. Her mind would wander, imagining bending you over the couch, ripping a hole in those sheer tights and fucking you senseless.

Most of the time though she would be at work while you were cleaning, so you would rarely have conversations with her, especially in the mornings, she would always be in a rush. In the evenings though, you were usually able to make small talk. You would ask about her day and her job, sometimes you would get lucky and even make her laugh. Abby normally wasn’t super talkative, but she enjoyed her little conversations with you. She would always try and compliment you when talking to you. She thought was walking a fine line between creepy and sweet, but she had no idea that her little comments had you melting on the inside.

After about a month Ms. Anderson would strike up a conversation with you every time you walked in the door. She had a crush on you from the start, but now? She was obsessed. You had grown pretty fond of her too. You always looked forward to working for her, you started spending a little extra time on your makeup, ironing your uniform and putting on perfume. You felt a little crazy for having a crush on, essentially, your boss. She was probably like 10 years older than you, maybe more, but her accomplishments and intelligence on top of her muscular build had you swooning.

Today Abby finally wracked up the courage to ask you to stay for dinner. She had thought about it for weeks, what finally convinced her was that last week you had adjusted her tie before she walked out the door. It was the closest she had ever gotten to you. She towered over you while she watched your small hands adjust the tie, your warm skin brushing up against the button down. There was something so domestic about it that Abby didn’t realize she yearned for. You noticed her breathing hitch a bit when you reached for her, her breathing picking up a little. You realized you made her nervous, and you never thought you would feel so powerful over someone as strong as Ms. Anderson.

As you were grabbing your things to leave you hear Ms. Anderson call out, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

It was the last possible thing you expected her to say, but you turned to her and responded all too eagerly, “Yeah why not? I have nothing going on tonight.” Abby smiles and gestures for you to follow her into the kitchen. You observe she’s still in her work attire minus the blazer, leaving her in a button down with a loosened tie and slacks. A couple of her top buttons were unfastened and her tie was hanging carelessly around her neck. Her blonde hair was out of her usual ponytail, her wavy hair reaching just past her shoulders. Seeing her in this more lax state was unusual, but it only made her more attractive. She pulls out a chair for you to sit down at the kitchen island and you look at her with a mild surprise on your face. You weren’t used to her serving you. Of course you had no idea the things Abby would do to serve you, she thought about it every night. You sit down slowly and watch as she pulls out various ingredients from her fridge and pantry. Watching her cook alone in the large kitchen made you wonder how she ended up living in such a large house alone. You had never seen anyone come over, not a boyfriend, husband, friends or even family. At first glance she didn’t seem that lonely, but she clearly hires you mostly for the company. You watch as she rolls up her sleeves and cooks various items on the stove with surprising efficiency. You wouldn’t take her for the type to know how to cook, but she moves so naturally in the kitchen, she’s comfortable here. Ms. Anderson was clearly lost in her cooking because she didn’t even try to make small talk, she just hums and occasionally makes little squeaks when she forgets to add something or makes a mistake. With her sleeves now rolled up you could see Ms. Andersons forearms on full display, veins snaking up her arms becoming more pronounced as she moves. The combination of her vigorous cooking and her disheveled clothing made an embarrassing ache begin to grow between your legs, you rub your thighs together trying to soothe it, but it just gets worse the longer you watch. Eventually you figure out she was cooking pasta with a homemade red sauce. The smell of basil and garlic began wafting through the kitchen causing you to salivate. She quickly assembles the meal and finally turns to face you, two plates and utensils in hand. She has a proud grin on her face as she places the plate in front of you. You smile “Thank you.”

Abby’s smile grows wider. “My pleasure.”

It looks so beautiful for what it is, she shaved fresh parmesan on top and added a basil leaf for garnish. “Were you a cook or something at one point? Because this is impressive Ms. Anderson.”

Abby huffs out a laugh “No, no. My dad just used to cook a lot for me when I was a kid. Learned all this fancy stuff from him.” You nod and grab your fork to dig in. You take a bite and let out a little moan of delight. You hadn’t eaten much today and this was fucking delectable.

“This is delicious.” You say between bites. Abby just nods in response, mouth still full.

You both practically inhale the food. You were relieved she matched your pace, it’s always embarrassing when you finish a meal way before the person you’re eating with. Abby grabs your empty plate along with her own and puts them in the sink. You immediately walk up behind her and lightly grab her bicep. The feeling of her large muscles made you almost forget what you were going to say. “You made dinner, I get to do the dishes.” you say, gently pushing her to the side and grabbing the plate out of her hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve been cleaning all day.” Ms. Anderson picks up the other plate and begins scrubbing it.

“Your house was already clean when I got here, I barely did anything today. Let me make up for it.” She simply blinks at you upon your response, but continues with the dishes. You wonder if you may have accidentally crossed a line mentioning the fact that she didn’t really need your service. It was an unspoken understanding she needed you for more than cleaning. You were squished against each other in front of the sink, trying to softly push the other out of the way. You can feel her warmth through the fabric of her clothes and you falter for a moment, realizing how close you are. Ms. Anderson grabs your plate out of your hand, having finished scrubbing hers clean. You pout in protest, but quickly give in and walk away to go dry your hands on a towel. Abby puts the dishes away and turns towards you, she just stands there for a moment, allowing an awkward silence between the two of you. You take it as a sign to collect your things and leave.

“Thanks for dinner Miss-”

She cuts you off, “Call me Abby, and anytime.” She smiles awkwardly. “Let me walk you out.” You nod and watch as she walks ahead of you. You follow her making your way towards the door.

When you reach the front entrance you walk up to Abby, facing her. You allow only a few inches between the two of you as you speak. “Thank you again uh… Abby.” Feels really weird calling her by her first name.

“Yeah.” She barely manages to whisper out. She’s looking down at you as you look up at her through your lashes and Abby feels just about ready to explode. Her eyes dart down from your eyes to your lips and linger there. Her breathing begins to pick up before she leans down and presses her soft lips on yours. Your eyes widen and you let out a surprised squeak, but it doesn’t take long for you to melt into her. She lightly holds your jaw as she kisses you harder, opening your mouth with her tongue. you place your hands on her chest trying to steady yourself. Her light touch mixed with her rough kissing was making you dizzy. Her hands drag down your arms past your hips and she lightly squeezes your ass, pulling you closer into her. Suddenly she pulls away, her eyes were wide and her breath began to quicken.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean-“ she stutters out nervously. But you quickly grab her by the necktie in response, inviting her lips to once again press against yours. Her hands move lower to the back of your thighs and she breaks away from your mouth for a moment to say “Up.” You immediately obey, jumping a little bit to allow her to pick you up. You immediately wrap around her to hold on. You feel the dress ride up dangerously high, the tight material having little give. She strongly grips your thighs, groping the newly exposed skin to hold you up and begins kissing you again as she walks you both to an unknown destination. You couldn’t bring yourself to care where you could be going, you were lost in the feeling of her rough tongue massaging yours, and listening to her little whines and moans sync with yours.

You cross a threshold into a dark room. Abby lets go of one of your legs to close the door before pinning you against it. Her large hands wander around your whole body, it felt like she was touching you everywhere but where you needed her. You begin to gently grind against her in an attempt to satiate the ache in your cunt that was growing unbearable. Ms. Anderson lets out a wavering breath between kisses at the feeling of your hips rocking against her. You begin to move against her a little faster trying to get any friction you possibly can.

“Fuck.” Abby whimpers out breathlessly. You moan at the sound of her needy voice. Ms. Anderson’s wandering hands and rough kissing were intoxicating, yet never enough. You begin unbuttoning her shirt slowly, trying to encourage her to continue. You only get a few undone before her hands gently grab yours and her lips pull away, causing you to let out an involuntary whine.

“It’s alright baby, just gonna move us over here so we can talk.” You have no idea why she thinks now is the best time to talk, but you don’t have a choice since you're clinging on to her. She backs up to sit down on the bed. She moves your legs so you’re straddling one of her thighs, pulling your dress up past your hips to allow you to spread your legs. The position creates a deliciously perfect pressure on your clit.

“Now,” she grabs your hips and encourages you to begin moving against her strong thigh, “We can talk.”

“Miss how-”

“I’m going to explain exactly what I want to do to you and you’re going to tell me what parts you want done to you and what you don’t. Simple yes and no, I won’t take nodding as an answer, you need to use your words, okay?” You had never imagined she’d be this confident in this situation. Dominance oozed from her causing you to grow even more soaked, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Okay, yes.” You say breathlessly, nodding your head. You’re not sure how your going to manage responding to her in coherent words when your sensitive clit is being ground against her muscular thigh. You were already breathing heavily, and you had barely moved against her.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Miss.” God calling her that was going to drive you wild. Made you feel even more under her control.

“God, I've been thinking about this for so long. I see the way you look at me when I wear this tie. You don’t think I notice you fucking me with your eyes while you’re bent over cleaning in your pretty little dress, baby? Such a little fucking tease.” All you can do in response is whimper. She huffs out a laugh, and leans towards your ear, you could feel her warm breath tickle your skin. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined tying you up with this,” She gestures down at her green necktie, “and teasing you until you’re begging me to let you come?” You let out a loud moan at her filthy words, unable to contain yourself. You grind faster against her, chasing any sort of relief from the throbbing between your legs. “How does that sound baby?” She asks before starting a trail of kisses down your neck.

“G-good, Miss, really good.” You barely manage to respond, she has you falling apart under her touch. Abby hums against your neck, more than satisfied with your answer.

“Knew you’d be perfect for me.” She reaches behind your back and unties your white apron, discarding it on the floor. She kisses you again, her rough tongue caressing yours as she grabs your ass, groping the soft skin with her large hands. She breaks away from you for a moment and catches her breath.

“Lay down, head on the pillows.” She says it in that demanding voice that has you biting your lip to avoid moaning embarrassingly loud. You do as your told and lay down on the soft bedding, sitting up against the pillows. Ms. Anderson crawls on top of you and straddles your waist as she slowly unbuttons your black dress revealing your matching black bra. Abby knew this was just for her because she saw your cheeks begin to glow red. She didn’t unbutton the dress all the way though, only enough so she could pull it open to expose your breasts. She pulls the bra cups down, your cleavage spilling out of the dress. Ms. Anderson stares for a moment, appreciating your disheveled state before grabbing your breasts and massaging them with her large hands. She groans upon touching the soft skin, she begins teasing your nipples, drawing little circles around the sensitive buds before taking one in her mouth. You gasp and moan as you feel her tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. The sensation causes you to grab her hair, looking for anything to hold on to. You thread your fingers through her soft blonde hair and gently pull whenever she sucks particularly hard on your nipple causing her to moan in sync with you. She takes her free hand and places it on your hip, the gentle placement giving you butterflies. She moves to the other nipple, taking her time, she would do anything to get you to keep pulling her hair like that.

Once she’s satisfied, she moves to kneel next to you. She unties her necktie slowly, watching you impatiently squirm, your thighs desperately rubbing together for any sort of relief. She gently takes your hands, and puts them together, palms touching. She then begins to expertly wrap the tie around them securing them together. Her touch was so incredibly gentle, so careful. She took her time, making sure your wrists were properly secured.

“Okay?” She looks up at you checking in. She smirks when she sees your expression. Your eyes wide and mouth hung open, unable to process how incredibly aroused you were.

“Yes Miss.” you say without skipping a beat. Abby nods before getting up off the bed and rummaging through her nightstand. She pulls out a small bullet vibrator and places it on the bed. She looks at you and smiles. seeing how eager you were made her want to fuck you right here right now, but she has to have patience. She's been waiting for this for too long.

She moves your legs apart gently and kneels between them. She gives you a once over admiring how your dress bunched up on your hips and how your breasts perfectly spilled out of the fabric. She then wraps her hands under your knees and yanks you down the bed towards her, forcing you to spread you legs wide and bend your knees. It gave her a perfect view of your cunt, your arousal starting to drip down your inner thighs. You let out a little squeak and a giggle at the sudden movement. She grabs your bound wrists and moves them so they are above your head, leaving you completely at her mercy. Abby licks her lips at the sight of you and smooths her hands up and down your thighs. You whimper, sick of her teasing. Once Abby heard your sound of desperation she finally lost her patience and ripped your tights open at the seam, creating perfect access to your soaked pussy. You gasp at the sound of the fabric ripping, caught completely off guard by the rough movement.

She begins moving her finger up and down your slit over the thin fabric of your underwear. She was barely touching you and you were already falling apart, whining at the feeling of her fingers on you. She rubs circles around your clit and you begin to push your hips into her hand begging for more.

“Patience sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.” She smirks when you groan in frustration. She brings her free hand up to massage your breast pinching and twisting your nipples as she continues to tease your clit.

“Oh god- please Miss-“ You whine, shamelessly begging her for more.

Abby obliges “Since you asked so nicely baby.” She moves your thong to the side letting the fabric snap back against you. You inhale sharply at the slight sting against your skin, all your senses were heightened from her teasing. Every movement and touch was magnified. She finally takes her finger and runs it along your wet slit, gathering your arousal. She takes her finger away, already glistening with your slick, and sucks it into her mouth with a satisfied hum. Abby takes her finger out of her mouth and whispers out “fuck.” Before taking that same finger plus another and shoving them into your needy cunt. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, her large fingers stretching you open.

“Shit baby I know I said I was gonna go slow, but you took two fingers so easily.” You moan loudly, unable to formulate a response in your current state. She curls her fingers and hits your g-spot causing you to cry out. You start to struggle against the silk tie around your wrists, your fingers itching to grab onto something.

“Fuck you sound so good baby.” At that she leans down and starts gently licking at your clit. At this point you can’t even control the noises you're making. Her fingers are steadily hitting your g-spot as she moves them in and out of you at a perfect pace. Your moans start getting louder and your walls start to clench around Abby’s fingers.

“Already close baby?” She asks in a mocking tone. You barely manage to whine out a yes before she stops touching you completely. You let out a desperate cry and try to clench your thighs together to soothe the almost painful throbbing in your cunt.

Abby grabs your legs and yanks them back open. “Uh uh,” she tuts, “you’ll be able to come soon enough sweetheart, but I’m not done with you yet.”

She grabs the bullet vibrator from the edge of the bed. You decide to boldly move your bound hands downwards propelling you to sit up in front of Abby. She looks at you stunned for a moment, you use her shock to your advantage as you move your hands to her shirt unbuttoning it to the best of your ability. She lets you unbutton it all the way, but she pins you back down to the bed before you can encourage her to remove it completely. She hovers over you, her shirt open exposing her naked breasts and prominent abdominal muscles. Now it was your turn to lick your lips, her shirt unbuttoned plus her sleeves rolled up had you grinding your hips against the air.

She smiles as she watches you admire her body, chuckling at your parted lips and wide eyes. Suddenly you feel something hard up against your sensitive clit, you quickly realize what it is as you feel it start vibrating against you. You breathe out a quiet moan at the feeling. She uses her free hand to gently grab your wrists pushing them back above your head to rest on the pillows. Her hand slides down your arm slowly, her fingers gently brushing against your skin. They move down between your breasts and skillfully unbutton the rest of your dress with her one hand. You gasp at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin. The cool feeling is quickly replaced by Abby’s warm hand, she moves her hand down your stomach and places it on your hip, holding you down against the bed to prevent you from squirming. She turns up the vibrator, the feeling causing pleasure to blossom in your stomach becoming almost overwhelming.

“Fuck, Abby.” You forget yourself, but upon hearing you moan her name Abby groaned, the ache between her own legs growing almost unbearable. The pleasure in your belly begins to build the intense feeling of the vibrator directly on your clit pushing you to the edge, but right as you are about to reach your high the vibrator is pulled away.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” You whine out trying to close your legs to no avail. Abby uses both her hands to spread your legs even wider.

“You wanna come baby?” She asks in a sweet tone.

You whine out a pathetically desperate “Yes.”

“Then beg for it.” She says her voice lowering.

You whimper before giving in “Please Miss, please let me come. I’ll do anything please.” Apparently this was enough for Abby because she spreads your lips, places the vibrator directly on your swollen clit and then proceeds to shove two fingers inside of you. You cry out at her sudden movements, but soon start moaning uncontrollably as she hits your g-spot over and over with each thrust. She easily adds a third finger. You felt so full with her large digits inside of you. Your high was beginning to approach at an alarming rate, an almost unbearable pleasure causing you to let out a pornographic moan.

“Please Miss it’s too much I can’t-” you cut yourself off with a moan.

“But you wanted to come so badly.” She pouts at you overdramatically, mocking you. “I know you can take it baby, you’re going to come for me and when you do I want to hear you say my name. Think you can do that sweetheart?” You nod vigorously unable to respond properly with her fingers fucking a moan out of you at each incredibly fast thrust. Thankfully she accepted the nod, knowing she had you so blissed out you couldn’t respond was more than enough. Your moans grow louder and your walls start to clench hard around Abby’s fingers.

“I-I’m s-so close.” You barely manage to warn her.

“Come for me baby.” You watch her smirk before your eyes are forced closed by the blinding pleasure taking over your body. You swear you see stars as Abby continues to fuck you through it. You are practically screaming her name as your orgasm rips through you, your hips uncontrollably grinding against her fingers and the vibrator. Soon your legs start to shake from overstimulation and you try to pull away, but Abby removes the vibrator to pull you closer to her.

“One more for me baby, I’m not done yet.” She turns off the bullet vibe and throws it to another part of the bed, her fingers still moving in and out of your aching hole. She lays down between your legs and presses her mouth to your cunt. You’re so sensitive you can’t help but squirm against her, she is quick to drape her free hand across your stomach pinning you down. She begins sucking on your swollen clit and you whine at the feeling, your thighs clenching around Abby’s head. She moans at the feeling sending vibrations through your body. Your hands are itching to reach for her hair, you desperately want to thread your hands through her blonde hair and pull, instead they struggle against the makeshift restraints. The helpless feeling only turned you on more though, your cunt clenching around Abby’s fingers. She starts grinding down against the mattress trying to relieve the throbbing growing between her own legs. She sucks on your sensitive bud, her tongue swirling around it. When you start to get close again Abby begins groaning at the sound of your moans. She was close too, you were literally going to make her come in her pants this was fucking ridiculous. Your orgasm hits you suddenly this time, you cry out at the feeling of the pleasure ripping its way through your body. Abby’s groaning intensifies as she reaches her own high grinding desperately against the mattress.

Abby eventually removes her mouth from you when you become too sensitive. She keeps her fingers inside you for a bit longer before pulling them out and sucking them clean. The sight of your arousal on her lips and her open shirt made you sit up again using your bound hands as momentum. When your finally upright you kiss her passionately, tasting yourself on her lips. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers the sound of Abby’s breathing synced with yours. She uses the moment to gently untie your wrists.

“You know you made me come in my pants. Barely had to do anything.” She laughs genuinely, she has no idea why she confessed that.

You giggle and reply “I’m flattered.” She finishes untying you and throws the silk necktie onto the floor. She kisses you again and completely removes your dress. She urges you to lay down and lifts up your hips, pulling your tights and underwear down in one swift movement. Once she has you naked she stands up beside the bed and picks you up in the air bridal style. You let out a little yelp and she laughs, her warm chest bouncing against you. You rest your head against her bare skin and sigh contently as she carries you to the bathroom. She sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and wets a washcloth with warm water. She quickly cleans you up before picking you back up in the air and moving you back to the bed. She gently places you on the soft sheets and strips off her button down and pants leaving her in boxers. She crawls into bed beside you, her warm skin pressed against yours. The feeling is so relaxing you almost immediately fall asleep. Before you sink into sleep Abby whispers “I’ll wake you up in the morning before I go to work baby.” She pauses before saying “I’m so fucking glad I hired you.” She kisses the side of your neck and you let out a little laugh before sinking into sleep.

Let me know what y’all think! 💕💕

#abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 29

part 1 | part 28 | ao3

“Hey,” Steve sniffles when Eddie gets home.

He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’s been crying since Wayne left for work — the exhausted, intermittent kind that leaves him boneless and craving a nap. From the foyer Eddie’s expression pinches with concern, and Steve can’t help the little bubble of wet laughter he lets out over the sight he must make: swaddled in a blanket, tear streaks down his face, neck flopped over the back of the couch to look toward the door. And he’s surrounded by towels.

The few that Wayne managed to salvage after his temper tantrum are all hung up near the radiator, draped over shelves and the backs of chairs, and the rest are sloshing away in the washing machine. (Wayne started a fresh cycle for him before he left for work; didn’t say a word about Steve boohoo-ing like an injured toddler on the other side of the room, which kind of makes him want to cry again.)

“Welcome to your house,” Steve tries to joke, but his voice cracks, so it comes out sounding more pathetic than funny.

“Uh… hi?” Eddie speaks slowly, moves slowly, cautious as he drops his bag and toes off his sneakers. He comes to stand behind the couch.

Steve blinks up at him with another weak, watery laugh.

“You okay?” Eddie asks. He bows his head to meet Steve’s gaze, eyes sharp with worry, brows drawn down, and Steve smiles just a little when Eddie’s hands reach up to touch him: sweep his hair off his forehead, cradle his face, cup his jaw. He runs his thumbs over Steve’s cheekbones, wiping at the salt tracks, and his rings rest in the hollows, his fingers drumming soothing rhythms as he chews on his next words.

Steve thinks he’s never seen something so lovely. Full lips twisted up in sympathy; secondhand heartbreak in his eyes. His hair falls around them like a curtain, like a cocoon.

He looks beautiful.

Warm.

Safe.

“...Do you wanna fuck around?”

Eddie’s hands flex against his jaw and then go still. So perfectly still, every muscle tensed, face gone horribly, carefully blank.

“Jesus,” Steve cringes at himself. He screws his eyes shut with a groan; lifts a hand to hide his face. “Oh, my god. Dude, I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

Eddie plucks Steve’s hand away. Goes back to holding his face, fingers kneading the tense muscles in Steve’s neck. Steve’s thinking that if he could just go blind right now so he never has to look up and see Eddie’s reaction, that would be so cool.

“Hey,” Eddie coaxes. “Look at me?”

Steve cracks one eye open. “Sorry,” he winces.

“S’okay,” Eddie says. Soft and simple, like it's easy, like he means it. There's a smile in his eyes, a playful quirk to his lips. “More than okay, actually; shit, that’s like, supremely fucking flattering, just, uh…"

Oh, god. Is this the part where he lets Steve down? Tells him he read this all wrong; that he let Robin witness his whole sad wet sexuality crisis for nothing?

"Feel like I missed a couple chapters on the reading assignment here, Steve,” Eddie laughs; a disbelieving little thing, his blunt nails catching on Steve's stubble. “You wanna tell me where that came from?”

“Just…”

Steve lets out a breath. Desperately wants to look away, because it’s embarrassing. What he wants.

Why he wants it.

“Last night, when you…”

"Mm. Surprised you remembered that.” His thumb drifts to the corner of Steve’s lips, traces the dip between his bottom lip and chin like he's remembering it now, too. "You were pretty fucked up."

Steve whimpers under the touch. He wants to part his lips, drop his jaw; invite Eddie to feel, to pet his thumb over his tongue and press down with two thick fingers. See how far they’ll go. Eddie makes a noise, and his hands retreat to higher ground; massaging Steve's temples, scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice is almost painfully tender when he murmurs, “No offense, but, um. You still seem a little fucked up now."

Steve nods mutely, because he can feel a rogue tear sliding sideways to his hairline, and what is there to say? It's true. He is a little fucked up now. (A lot fucked up, in fact. Kinda feels like Eddie's fingers down his throat would fix him, but he doubts Eddie would agree.)

Eddie maneuvers around the side of the couch, comes to crouch in front of Steve with his hands braced on Steve's knees. Looks up at him with wide, earnest eyes; two black moons, gravitational pull. "For the record," he intones, squeezing the meat of Steve's thigh, bringing his hand back down to Steve's kneecap with a mournful hiss of air. "I do want to. Fuck around with you, I mean, just- you know. Probably when you're not crying."

Steve huffs a quiet laugh. "You're not into that?" he jokes.

Eddie's dimple flashes. "Only when I'm the cause of it." Then it disappears again, tone serious and soft. "Do you want to talk about it?"

No. God. Not even a little bit; would honestly prefer to get another plate smashed over his head so he can forget this day ever happened. "My mom left," he croaks. He sounds fucking terrible, voice breaking and full of phlegm.

"Shit," Eddie says.

"Shit," Steve agrees.

Eddie gives him a long look — a Robin look, inquisitive and intense, like he can tear all the answers right out of Steve's head. Pluck them up like stray eyelashes; blow them away for good luck. Steve lets himself stare back, catalogs his features: all the freckles and fine lines, the pores, the vellus hair. There's a chicken pox scar just below one of his eyes, a faint silver pockmark that twists and shines in the dim light.

Eventually, Eddie must find what he's looking for because he claps Steve's knees and stands, rolling his shoulders back and down. "Yeah, sweetheart," he nods, "I got exactly what you need."

—

part 30

tag list in separate reblogs, if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

[apomaro-mellow]

"Okay, be straight with me."

Steve leveled a look and Eddie almost swooned but he kept it together. This was serious.

"Right, okay, be bisexual with me."

"Eddie, we're in public", Steve said, mock-scandalized.

"I'm starting to regret becoming a level 5 friend of yours Harrington." Dustin had said Steve could get silly and goofy. Of course Eddie didn't believe it. Not until he had seen it. Not until he had seen that secret handshake of theirs and seen him pump his fist in victory when he beat Erica at rock, paper, scissors, and when he'd seen him-

"Did you have something to say, or...?"

"Yeah! Okay, so, what I wanted to ask waaaas, did you ever, you know, look at any guys?" Eddie cleared his throat and continued when Steve looked at him blankly. "Sinfully?"

The location for this conversation could either be really good or really bad. In the McDonald's parking lot on a late afternoon. Steve just got off from a relatively short shift and wanted lunch. Eddie was wasting time until Hellfire that night. Of course they were eating in Eddie's van. Not a single crumb graced Steve's car.

"I mean, I guess I did", Steve shrugged. "Before I really understood what I was feeling. Honestly it felt like I just hated guys for no reason."

Eddie nodded in understanding. Before realizing what all those slurs meant, he definitely felt like some dudes were attractive in a way just to spite him. Then he came to realize he didn't want to punch them, but to do...well other things with his hands.

"Soooo, you ever have a crush?"

Steve let out a bark of laughter so loud it startled Eddie.

"What are you serious?"

"I-yes? What? Is it so ridiculous?"

"Eddie I-", Steve cut himself off and looked him in the eyes. "You asked me that question and you really don't know?"

"Is it a sensitive topic?" Eddie went on ahead and stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth before he stuck his foot in it.

"No, it's just, you of all people asking me that." Steve put a hand to his mouth and looked out the window and Eddie felt like he was missing something.

"So was there ever anyone?"

Steve turned back towards him. "Was...and is."

"Well shit, don't leave me hangin'."

"Are we doing girl talk or something now?", Steve grinned.

"I know for a fact you and Bucks talk about the girls she likes. Why can't you talk to a fellow queer about boys?"

"I've talked to Argyle and Jonathan about it", Steve shrugged.

Now that got Eddie raring. Jonathan he could understand. But he just met Argyle!

"Okay, you gotta tell me. It can be either the 'was' or the 'is' but I need to know who caught the eye of the Hair."

Steve laughed again, this time bending over. "Eye of the Hair sounds like one of your dungeon things."

"Don't try and distract me with DnD, Steve. Spill."

"Okay, okay. Let's talk about this is."

Eddie was torn. On the one hand, he really did want to know who Steve was crushing on. On the other hand, if he knew the dude what was stopping him from going over to his house and busting his nose?

"So, he's our age. Went to Hawkins High-"

"Wow that really narrows it down."

"He and I were in different cliques. Didn't hang out a lot until he started hangin around my kids."

Eddie let out a snort. "You do remember you didn't actually birth a gaggle of children, right?"

"You wanna hear this or not?"

"Continue."

"Anyway, he's a nerd. Like a huuuge nerd. Like sometimes I can't even believe I like him, but then he...I mean I....it's not like I like him despite his nerdiness. I like that part of him too now."

Eddie began listing the choices. Someone from school, who hung out with the kids? Recent? That could be someone from Hellfire. Kind of think of it, Steve and Jeff have been talking a lot more recently. It was just here or there when Steve was dropping off or picking up kids from meetings but still...

"Can I get a description?"

"What are you? The cops?"

"How dare you!"

"He's got dark hair and dark eyes", Steve conceded with a roll of his eyes.

Fuck it could be Jeff. Okay, okay, he could be supportive. Jeff was a good guy. A great guy. And Jeff would be a lucky son of a bitch to get Steve.

"Son of a bitch", he murmured.

"Hm?"

"Son of a witch, nerd thing", Eddie waved off. "I think you should be able to trust me with his name. I could even maybe hook you two up if I just so happen to know him~"

"You'd hook me up with some guy?", Steve asked.

"I know right, I'm so generous." And maybe if Jeff blew his chance with Steve, he could be there to pick up the pieces. No! Bad Munson! Bad thoughts. Jeff would never hurt Steve and he shouldn't hope for it. But what if it wasn't Jeff?

What if it was some other geek he didn't know? The freshies were into science too. What if it was that chemistry dork Howard?

"Actually, I think I really do need to know who this guy is. Need to be sure he's good enough for you."

Steve smiled in a way that rivaled the sun and Eddie truly felt like a knight in shining armor. He'd protect his princess from any undeserving mouthbreather.

"I think he's more than worthy. And I hope you would agree", Steve said.

"I'll know for sure once I see him." Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, already formulating ideas to make this dude wet his pants. "So tell me more about him."

"Okay, we knew of each other for a while, but the first time we officially talked, he attacked me."

"Red flag. No go."

"In his defense, he was on the run from the law", Steve added quickly.

"A criminal? Second red flag."

"Allegedly. And that's big talk comin' from a drug dealer."

"Who you partake with", Eddie reminded him.

"I do. But it's a little less than legal what you do. As is several things both of us have done. I don't think either of us has a high horse to look down on."

Eddie hemmed and hawed before letting out a sigh. "Alright, we'll call that a yellow flag for now. What else?"

"He's just...so different from anyone else I've ever been into, Eds. I'm really into him. Like an embarrassing amount." And now Steve was blushing and Eddie felt jealousy boil in his gut. But he also felt happy that Steve was happy. He could take solace in that. Even if he wanted to deck this guy on principle.

"Do you know if he's like us?"

"Oh, I know", Steve said, putting his elbow on the rest between them and leaning in close. "Wanna know more?"

And fuck his masochistic heart, he did. What could this guy have that he didn't?

After Eddie nodded, Steve continued. "He's larger than life, honestly. In a way I thought I used to be but he's the genuine real deal. He can be kind of a jerk, but it's clear when he cares. And that mouth-"

"Okay! Please stop torturing me and tell me who this guy is so I can decide if I hate him or not!"

Steve was laughing again and as beautiful as it was, Eddie felt like a joke himself.

"If you're gonna start hating yourself then we've got a problem", Steve said.

Eddie jerked around like he was short circuiting as all the pieces came into place. High school, nerd, with the kids, attacked him, running from the law.

"You! You are unbelievable, you know that?"

"That's a new one", Steve was still grinning. "So are you gonna kiss me now? Or are you not worthy?"

They were in a parking lot. In broad daylight. This could be bad. But Eddie was a weak, weak man and his dream boy was asking for a kiss. So he leaned in and obliged. Son of a bitch he was the son of a bitch that caught Steve's eye.

"Well?", Steve asked when they pulled away. "What do you think of the guy I like?"

"I still think you could do better."

#apo writes #fanfiction #stranger things #steddie #jargyle been known about steve's crush #as does robin #dont worry steve's 1st gift to his new bf is some self esteem

[incorrectbatfam]

If you could create and add a new DC character, what would they be like?

I'm going to tell you about David, and knowing you guys, you'll agree with me when I say he should have his own comic.

David has been my best friend literally since we were 8. He is the only constant I've had through my life. He introduced me to the drums and helped me get a motorcycle after I got my license. We are each other's platonic ride or die. If he asked me to bury a body, I'd do it no question, and I know he'd do the same for me.

That said, I clearly have the braincell in this friendship.

Don't get me wrong, he's smart in certain aspects. He's a talented musician, good athlete, taught himself to fix most plumbing issues, speaks decent Japanese, easily clicks socially, and is super empathetic. But in others, he's like a plate in a knife drawer.

Some highlights from over the years:

He ate the brown paper bag his lunch came in on a field trip

He thought hot chocolate was just cocoa powder (no milk or water) in a mug and the microwave would melt it. His sister had to call the fire department

He gave a stray dog his scarf for warmth and never saw that scarf again

He licked the dust off an XBox controller

He got a speeding ticket outside the DMV literally five minutes after getting his license

He made gender reveal cupcakes to come out to the rest of our friend group when we were 17, but he threw them into a Ziploc and they jostled around his backpack for half a day before lunch

He thought closing a browser tab would get rid of a computer virus

He tried hotboxing his own car while driving

He almost seasoned his food with pepper spray before someone stopped him

He had a tire swing on a tree in his backyard. He decided to stand on it while swinging and smacked his forehead against a branch in front of him. It was literally the most hollow thwock ever, as if confirming his lack of braincells. He then proceeded to get pissed off and punch the tree. He said it was his most gender-affirming experience

He brought me along on a family road trip and used me as a footrest in the car

He frequently writes drum tabs the way he'd write guitar ones (in short the two are very different kinds of sheet music and I'd need three hands to play them). He absolutely knows better. I think he's messing with me at this point

He mistook wasabi powder for matcha

He once got drunk at a frat party, crawled out the lawn of the house, and began eating grass like a cow

I wanted to know what kissing a dude was like out of curiosity and this was before he started physically transitioning, so to make it a more "authentic" experience, he gargled Gatorade beforehand

He tried to make his first battle jacket with washable Crayola markers

He also tried to dye his hair with his sister's watercolors

He's worn the same sweatshirt since he was 14 and I think I can count on one hand how many times I've seen him wash it (I was over at his house a lot)

He's the motherfucker that wears running shorts in the snow

He thought his area code would automatically change when we moved to a new state

He once kicked a soccer ball into an oncoming train

BONUS: when he came out to his parents, they were accepting and while he was at school, his dad mounted a fish on David's bedroom door because men I guess

So yeah, if I worked at DC, I'd insert David in the background of every comic just being his chaotic himbo self. David is beyond space and time. There could be a battle on fucking Oa and David would just be there doing a kickflip. That's who I'd choose.

#character idea #original character #personal #batfamily #batfam #batman family #justice league #gotham #batman #dc comics #superheroes #don't try this at home #transgender #lgbtq #story #himbo #tw swearing #tw food mention #tw alcohol mention

[thevirgincherry]

JINGLE BALLS !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, daddy-daughter incest, leon is creepy ngl, dub-con at first then consensual, daddy issues, you get compared to your mom lots, creampie, daddy kink

note. HAII sorry for this being late omg :3 umm this is weird and jolty and the plot im not totally happy with but :333 ignore typos or I will cry!! feedback and reblogs always so appreciated :3

tumblr removes fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that these fics contain dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“Pumpkin!” Your dad’s embrace is stiff per usual. This guy - he seriously needs a lesson in intimacy. Can’t go hugging your daughter the same way you do a girlfriend. Dads shouldn’t put their hands below your midriff. They certainly shouldn’t grip your hips and pull you close with such fervour, now you’re tit to tit with the man who gifted you your pornstar rack. And it’s a bit awkward to say the very least.

“Hi, dad.” He backs off, skittish when he hears your tone of voice. Flat and clipped.

“Sweetpea, I’m so glad you’re here,” Leon starts, he’s laying it on super thick, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun.” Oh, you’re exhausted already.

“Mhm.” You nod in disinterest as you toe off your shoes, place them beside his mud-caked boots. Leon is your dad. Your dad is just a guy to you. One that’s around never, you see him seldom and from afar. He’s not exactly awful, but he’s nothing great. A little touchy if anything, and enthusiastic in a way that comes across as disingenuous.

The only thing you really know about Leon is that he’s your dad, he works with the government, and he’s still hung up on your mom. You can tell from a mile away. Looks at her like she crafted the earth itself, mapped out the stars, plucked them from the sky to make him a new moon. Totally whipped for a woman who forgets he exists until major holidays roll around. And you get it honestly, your mom is pretty, fun, and she’s all you’ve got. So you might take after dad in that sense.

You’ve seen the kinda women he brings home. That time you caught him mid disgusting, nasty, abhorrent sex act that you’ve only seen in porn. Had this poor girl’s head tilted so far back, blonde curls like liquid gold running along her back, brushing the swell of her ass, his arm wrapped around her neck - like, was he trying to fucking kill her? Well, she liked it clearly. That’s beside the point, when you saw her face the following morning, her sheepish smile and the slant of her eyes - you got it. Mom. She looked like mom. You overheard him telling her she was too young for him, a college girl, his daughter’s age - only after he came down her throat though. What a creep.

Then there was his girlfriend from a few years back, this chick who popped her gum too loud, bossed him around and got him to pay for a new set of acrylics weekly. It was uncanny the resemblance between her and mom. What next? You? Is it your turn to be pursued by Leon, by dad? The only thing you’ve got from him is tits, busty like your daddy, pretty like your mommy. And he fucking knows it. You know he does.

Leon places a hand on your lower back. Like, way lower back, the spot a boyfriend would touch when he wants to initiate a quickie. You shiver, glance at him through your peripheral as he guides you to the lounge, the wooden floor is so cold you feel it through the fabric of your winter socks. This dude is loaded and he can’t even get heated floors installed? Not even for lil ol’ you? His daughter? The one that resembles his one true love?

There’s a red box that contains a gingerbread house sitting on the coffee table, you groan inwardly. Here we go with the bonding activities, it’s so forced it makes your skin crawl. His Christmas tree is, well, it’s a tree alright, crudely and hastily decorated with a sparse amount of baubles and god-awful paper crafts you gave to him as a toddler. Aw, the sentiment is there though, kinda cute. You’ll cut dad some slack.

By the time midnight rolls around, you realise cutting dad even the slightest bit of slack was a mistake. “Take that off.” You jab a finger into his stomach, met with sinewy, toughened flesh. Woah, dad’s still got it going on. “It’s ugly, and I’m not twelve, dad.”

“Moving fast.” Leon - your dad, biological, held you as a baby, rocked you to sleep at night - wiggles his eyebrows at you. All while dressed in a Santa suit by the way, ‘cause that is one very important piece of information. He looks fucking ridiculous. It’s the same one he used to pull out when you were a kid, back when you actually gave a shit about him, what he thought about you, whether he even wanted you. ‘Cause if your daddy wanted you, why was he away so often? Told mom to jingle his balls once, an unsavoury recurring memory that you’d like to forget.

“Oh, dad, that’s actually really concerning, like, I’m not gonna lie.” You frown at him so hard the wrinkles that form on your forehead become permanent. “Don’t say that to me.”

“I was messing around.” He defends, “Christ, what is up with you today? Got a stick up your ass or somethin’? Y’know, in my day, kids used to be able to take jokes.” Now he’s pouting like a toddler in a sour mood.

“That was not a joke, dad!” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but it happens and within seconds he’s sat on the couch dejected. This fucking dude. Ugh. He’s pathetic. How did he manage to bag a hottie like your mom?

“I just want you to love me, sweetheart.” Here we go again. Leon sighs hopelessly as he slumps back into the cushions, and you can’t take him seriously when he’s wearing a fucking Santa hat.

“I do love you, dad.” And you do. Honest. Really. Like, pinky promise. You love him out of obligation - he’s your dad, and you’re meant to love your dad. Doesn’t mean you like him though. In your very objective-totally-not-biased view, your dad is just a bit unlikeable. A bit of a strange one.

“Yeah?” He lightens up, “You love me?” God, it’s like he gets off on it. Oh, you’re just being mean now. You scoot closer to him, lean in for an awkward side hug.

“I do, dad. I love you.” You don’t have the courage to look at him. Leon’s arm snakes around your waist, and you know what’s coming. How much do you love me?

“How much do you love me?” Called it. Up until now it’s been a harmless question, but when you face him, gaze flitting from his eyes to his nose to his lips, the general wear and tear of his aged face - it’s different. This time you won’t be able to get away with the regular bout of flattery, wax poetry about how much you love him, how you wouldn’t want anyone else but him to be your daddy. When in reality, you’d swap out Leon for any poor sod. They wouldn’t leave you hanging so damn often.

“A lot, dad.” You turn your head to roll your eyes, getting it out of your system proves worthy, now you can plaster your mommy’s smile onto your face, the one he loves so much. “So much, you know that, don’t you?”

“Just don’t seem like it, pumpkin.” Leon gives you a sideways glance, “I’m trying… I wanna make it up to you, y’know? For how much I was away.”

“Dad, you don’t have to do that. I’m over it.” You’re not. But, you’re good at pretending you are. “I don’t need you to make it up to me.” You do. Oh, you so do. You need it to a devastating degree. “Like, I’m not a kid, I don’t want Santa, and I don’t wanna make fuckin’ gingerbread houses, or watch Home Alone-“

“What, so you’re a big girl now?” He tilts his head to the side, there’s an edge to his voice that’s hard to decipher. Don’t know if it’s good or bad.

“Well, I’m not little anymore, dad.” You gasp when he tries to take a subtle glimpse down your shirt.

“I can see that.” Leon pokes his tongue into the corner of his cheek.

“Yeah, and I saw that!” When you go to stand, his grip becomes almost crushing, wanting to hold you in place so badly. For a moment it’s scary, only for a moment, this is just dad. Just Leon. He’s harmless. As lame as he is, your dad wouldn’t hurt you.

“I didn’t do nothing, baby, c’mere, don’t be like that.” Dad pets your head, and it reminds you of your childhood bedroom. “I’m sorry, alright? I never spent Christmas with just you, and I wanted to make it good for you.”

“I know, dad, and I appreciate it, just don’t need you to get all weird about it. Like, we can just— we can just be normal about it. Don’t have to do all this shit, I just want us to be normal.” Normal, huh? Neither of you can do normal, and you’re fully aware of that. ‘Cause your dad is a freak, and you can’t exactly drain Kennedy blood all that easy. You’ll be your father’s daughter even when he’s dead. “Like, I really, I really can’t deal with this whole Santa thing, did you really expect me to like it? I’m not a baby.”

“I just thought it’d be cute.” Cute? What is cute about a grown man in a Santa costume that’s covered in a thin layer of dust, dug out from the boxes he still hasn’t managed to open ten years after the divorce? “Listen, baby, I’m sorry, alright? I’m real sorry, look at me,” Leon cups your cheek, stares into your eyes with his gentle ones, “Dad’s sorry, yeah? I’m just stupid sometimes.”

“You are,” you nod, “but, I’m sorry too.” No, you’re not. Just saying it so he doesn’t drag this on, so he doesn’t call up your mom and tell her you’re not having a good time. Then your mom will be down your throat, your dad’s missed you, and you missed him too, you should be nicer to him, he tries his best, darling! “You, like, went through all that effort, and I didn’t even say thank you, I just got mad at you— so I’m sorry, dad.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, shifts so he can bring you into his chest, cheek squished against one of his fat tits, god, why’re they so big, you swear it’s bigger than both of yours combined. “It’s alright, I know you’re growing up, and I’m sorry for treating you like a baby, it’s just, it’s hard ‘cause you’re my little girl, y’know?” Not true. You’ve always been a mommy’s girl. Dad is an acquaintance.

“Yes, I know, dad.” You blink at him, he melts, traces your cheekbone with his thumb. Thank god he took that dumbass hat off, you couldn’t take him seriously.

“Gosh, baby, you look just like your mama.”

“I know, dad.”

“Crazy, ain’t it?” Leon kisses your forehead, “Only got these from me, and nothin’ else, huh?” Dad gropes your tits. The man that put a baby in your mother, that baby being you, obviously, the man whose name is on your birth certificate— the man who has given you his name, is groping your tits. “Certainly not from mommy are they?”

You shake your head. In agreement though. ‘Cause you can’t deny it, your mom’s as flat as a board. It feels weird, yes. But not bad. Maybe you’ve detached Leon from the title of ‘dad’ to the point where it doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s wrong, so you go to stop him, but he’s unyielding in his perversion.

“You look like your mommy down here, baby?” Dad asks, he cups your pussy through your jeans with his big hand. “Can daddy see?”

You shake your head again. Slowly. This time a flimsy no, one that teeters on the boundaries of a yes. You do owe him, you’ve been acting like a bitch ever since you arrived in D.C. Making a right fuss the moment you stepped through the door. Poor guy put the rather intricate gingerbread house all together by himself, he’s dressed as fucking Santa, all ‘cause he thought you’d like it. How bad can it be? Not like fucking your dad could land the two of you in jail, right? Well, it could, but that’s not the point.

“No? C’mon, sweet girl, dad just wants to see,” Leon’s plump bottom lip juts out, you kinda sit there for a minute, then lay back on the couch. What have you got to lose? You have no emotional attachment to this man. You do. It’s not weird at all. God, it’s so weird you want to claw your skin off. “That’s a good girl.” He butters you up while he unbuttons your jeans, taps your hips so you lift ‘em up and off they pop, jeans thrown to the ground. “Oh, look at her, baby, how sweet, just like mama,” Leon rests your left leg on his shoulder, holds the ankle of your right one to spread you open. “You think she likes it like mommy did?”

“How did… How did mom like it, dad— daddy?” You correct yourself, feel this horrible churning in your stomach. Both nausea and need flooding your shaky body.

Leon presses his wide nose to the bump of your clit through your tight panties, there’s a wet patch that seems to get bigger and bigger the more he sniffs around down there. He lifts his head, rests it on your thigh as he slides them to the side, sticky, gooey arousal stringing apart, sticking to the seat of your undies like PVA glue when he separates the fabric from your soaked centre. “She liked it real sloppy, baby.” With that, he spits on your drippy cunt, runs his finger through your folds, pinches your clit. “Daddy’s gonna give it to you just how mom liked it, alright?”

“Okay, dad,” you tell him breathlessly, hands clasped together as you try to calm your nerves. The warmth of his breath on your puffy clit is enough to make you shiver, he spreads you open with his index and middle fingers, the tip of his tongue traces along the centrefold of your cunt. Then Leon grows agitated by the way your panties insist on snapping back in place, so he has a little wrestle with them and your limp legs, once they’re off he tucks them into his pocket for safekeeping. Santa’s back pocket.

Sweetly, he kisses your clit, sucks on it like he’s getting to the centre of your cunt, blows a raspberry on it - you’re so wet it’s pooling beneath your ass. Leon spreads your cheeks to lick into your cunt, press his nose into it real nice ‘n deep, smacks his lips against your fat pussy, stubble smeared with your slick. Leaking all over your dad’s pretty face, letting your dad tug your clit between his teeth and fuck his tongue into your tight hole. “Should stop shaving.” Is all dad says once you cream on his face, “Your mama didn’t.” Okay, didn’t need to know that, but here you are, dad’s fat cock hard and heavy against your thigh. So you guess fucking him comes at that expense - finding out all sorts of details about their wild sex life. To be honest, you pegged Leon as the kinda guy who knows what missionary is and missionary only, not that you ever thought about that before. He unbuckles his belt, unthreads the prongs from the holes one by one, and drops his red Santa pants. Good riddance.

“Dad,” you whimper when he sits you up, handles you like a dolly. The tight-fitted Santa coat stretches around his biceps when he scoops you up, puts you on his lap, gosh, you’ve never really noticed those. Maybe that’s what your mom saw in him. Big blue eyes and big tits and big fucking arms. This Santa attire is really fucking you up, it’s hard to take him seriously.

“Your mommy’s real good at riding cock, y’know that, pumpkin?” Leon squeezes your ass, you feel him. All of him. His clothed cock grinding upwards into your bare cunt, a toothy grin stretching his lips as he watches the way your lips squish together. Yeah, fat pussy, so what. Get over it, creep. “Best I ever had she was, best fuckin’ pussy,” he licks up the sweat dripping down your collarbones, “but you’re made for me, ain’t you, baby?”

“Yes, dad.” You don’t know what else to say, breath stuttering when he sits you down on his cock. Thick and fairly long in all the ways a dick should be, you suppose. Look at that, giving a review of your dad’s cock. How far you have come. Fucking degenerate cock critic. It sure does feel good, his tip nestled snug against your cervix, pulsing within the silky walls of your tight cunt. Feel every vein, how his tip leaks pre endlessly, how it twitches when you clench around him.

“Baby, you’re such a big girl now,” Dad kisses you smack-bang in the middle. On your pouty lips. The ones that remind him of your mom, same lips that sucked his cock in the marriage bed, same eyes rolling back into your skull when he begins to rock his hips into you. “Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you? Better than mommy.” Almost, he wants to add. You know he does. He’s so predictable.

There are no words in your brain, only able to let out shaky breaths and the occasional yelp as he takes you, grabs your hips and bounces you up and down on his cock. “Fuck, wait, let me— let me-“ he doesn’t finish his sentence, instead he’s sliding you off and bending you over the couch. “Better like this.” That’s ’cause you look like mom from behind. Same hair, same hips, same perky ass. Leon fucks you harder, his strokes deeper, knocking his cock into your poor cervix with his brutal thrusts. Your nails scratch at the cracked leather of his couch, unable to help the way you moan for him, it’s so embarrassing, even more so when your hips begin to move on their own, fucking yourself back on dad’s dick.

Each thrust is harder than the last, god, is he trying to go through you? Put you in A&E ‘cause his cock got tangled in your intensities? “Is this… Is this how mom likes it, dad?” You manage to get out through a stifled groan, he digs his teeth into your neck, licks a stripe over the tender skin then tugs at your hoop earring with his teeth.

“Your mom likes it even harder, baby,” Leon snickers, “your mama is a dirty bitch.” You gasp, tighten around him involuntarily, your pussy behaves in mysterious ways. “She liked it when I did this,” his hand comes down on your ass hard, you squeal, almost lose footing and fall face-first into the couch cushions. “And when I pulled her hair, and slapped her tits, and spit down her fuckin’ throat.” Your mom is one nasty bitch, good on her. Personally, you’re new to it all. “You want that?”

“I don’t know, dad.” You say helplessly, thighs trembling when he reaches round with his nimble fingers to rub neat circles into your bud, so you come undone around his cock. Coat the shaft in cream, drip slick down his balls. You muffle your moans into a pillow, painted toes curling against the wooden floor, suddenly thankful for his lack of underfloor heating - ‘cause you’re sweating like a pig.

Your body trembles with aftershocks as he continues to fuck you through it, helps his little girl out by kissing the wet nape of her neck, a big hand on her waist to steady her. Sweat prickles your skin, jolting as he gives one last sloppy push into you, hips jerking as he unloads all he’s got to give and you milk him just right. ‘Cause you know, you’re his kid, made for him. That’s why he fits like a glove. Born to get your cunt bred by dad. You think he says your mom’s name into your hair, but you don’t question it, slumping over in exhaustion.

“Dad, can you just do me a favour and take that off, please? I’m really tired and it’s pissing me off.” You curl up on the sofa, uncaring of the seed that drips out and trickles down your plush thighs.. Leather’s easy to clean.

“Why? I like it. Don’t you think it’s cute, sweetpea?” Normalcy or what the two of you consider normal returns.

“No, take it off, or I’m taking the next flight home.”

“Alright, pumpkin.”

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