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theresawtf · 25 days

Text

❀᭢᜴꤬ jakey poo

summary: only after jake had left for a three year australian program for college, he had come back as the intimidating bad boy everyone wants, but when it came to relationships he can never settle for anyone but you. he didnt know it but he always treated you differently than the other random girls he would hook up with. but the only thing keeping you guys apart was the fact that you were jungwoo’s younger sister…

pairing: stoner jake x artmajor reader

warning(s)- SMUT (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), (sorta kinda proof read), childhood friends to lovers, brothers best friend troupe, jake is slut coded, reader doesn't give af, mentions of drugs, use of drugs (its stoner jake wtf were you expecting?), facesitting, reader&jake almost gets caught by jungwoo, p in v, unprotected sex (WEAR A FUCKING CONDOM PLEASE), JAKE IS A SLUUUUTT!! thats about it 🥸 angst if you squint with a happy ending

featuring- jungwoo as readers brother, sakura from le sserafim.

song suggestions: burnin’ for you by blue oyster cult, circles by ptv, please please please let me get what i want by deftones (the cover), dramamine by modest mouse

word count: 6k+

after a long three lonely years, your brother and his best friend are finally returning, you could remember all the precious memories that you and the boys always hanging out, but one thing you would never forget was jungwoo’s words before introducing you to jake.

“your not allowed to date any of my friends ever, so dont even think about it.” it’s seems like he knew exactly what would happen because as soon as you saw the tall nerdy boy next to your brother you practically had hearts in your eyes every time you saw him at your house, in the yard, at the table for breakfast. anywhere your brother was— so was jake.

as you and jake grew up he had always treated you differently than most people, he’d always pick tiny flowers for you and let you put them in his hair or he would stall jungwoo from leaving you at school if you had extra circular activities so he could walk you home. he always made sure you were okay if jungwoo was being mean and would always help you cheer up. he didnt realize it till he left that he always had some feelings towards you but he would never say them out loud. as for jake also heard familiar words from jungwoo..

“listen if you ever try dating my sister or anything of that sort, i’ll actually kill you bro” of course jake didn’t take those feeling to heart until he saw you on a facetime call with jungwoo while they were both in australia for an exchange program. he saw how mature and confident you got, not to mention the fact that you’d never judge him even if jungwoo was literally talking shit about him to you, you never said anything bad about him. he knew his behavior wasnt the best once he left high school and started college somewhere far away from his home town, of course people change but how did you not?? he was completely infatuated with the fact that you were just the same as he remembered, you had become one if his genuine best friends.

it was the night before he was supposed to see you since he’s come home, of course he wanted to visit his family and layla but there was a tugging at his heart where he knew he needed to see you, or even just to speak to you. who knows maybe you would actually hate him once you finally saw him after all these years but he couldn’t imagine you being any different then how you always have been. he gathered his gift for you from australia, he got a simple necklace with a j engraved on the back, he knew what it looked like but he also knew you. you knew that he wasnt allowed to date you and you werent allowed to date your brothers friends but things can always change and with that he went and grabbed paper to roll you a fresh joint, if he could some how convince jungwoo that youve changed all on your own he wouldnt mind the thought of jake being closer to you in anyway possible.

now in reality jake didnt take into consideration that maybe youve been trying to push your feelings of him away, he was your childhood crush there was always going to be some lingering feelings but you knew deep down if he wanted to try something with you he would. he simply could not have any feelings whatsoever but you knew if you didnt tell him now, you wouldnt be able to get these feelings out for good. and if you release them they wouldnt have to both you for your first year at college. what you didnt know was that jake had enrolled into the same college which was the same one you were going to. and for one of your final projects for your portfolio you had written letters to all of those whom you felt strong feelings towards and leave it at what you feel in that moment, not thinking of the future just that moment. the feelings for that person show show how you feel about them if you think about it in the present.

that being said you knew there was several people you could write to but you knew there was truly one person that you didnt quite know exactly how you feel about them and that was jake so for your gift you prepared your letter assignment, after prepping the final copy and wrapping up the other goodies you had gotten for jungwoo and jake and set them out for when they arrive.

❀᭢᜴꤬⠀

“hey kid” jungwoo said while going in for a hug, it had been too long since you’d seen him. it seems like they were still the same annoying smelly boys you remembered from middle school, for them being gone for three years we always manage to get along with each other. while your parents caught up with jungwoo, you manage to catch jake looking you up and down. he was seeing how much you’ve grown since he left, he always knew you had a crush on him but part of him knew he wouldn’t know how to define these feelings he had for you.

“nice seeing you y/n, you get shorter or something?” he said messing up your hair just the tiniest bit. he knew it made you mad but of course it was jake, how could you get mad at him. you finally got him back, but to focus on your assignments you wanted to detach any lingering feelings you could have from the past.

they had talked to your parents for a bit before going up to bed to catch up on sleep, you couldnt hide the fact that you were a bit bummed out but you knew that jet lag can be gnarly, you left it to them. if anything it gave you more time to finish your portfolio assignments.

❀᭢᜴꤬⠀

you had been preparing for bed since you’d been putting the work in for your preparation for classes, even though you had the whole summer to prepare you wanted to make sure it was perfect and still have time for your friends. breaking you from your thoughts you heard a knock, it shocked you because jungwoo never bothered with knocking. you went to open the door but you turned and saw the outline of jake in your window, it was a little to convenient for him to get to your room so easily. it also didnt help that jungwoos room was down the hall and the roof connected so it was always a secret place for the both of you. it doesn’t phase you anymore but also why did everything pick up the same after he came back, the privilege of being able to connect with him the same way as children you can as adults as well. it makes things so much harder to push everything out, especially your feelings for him.

“aren’t you cold out here? what are you doing out here??” you began questioning him before he could say anything. he once again checked you out without jungwoo’s protective eyes watching.

“just come join me, i have a present for you. grab a blanket for me if your so worried about me.” he had said while smirking motioning for you to come sit outside for a bit; try to catch up as much as you guys could before jungwoo assumedly wakes up.

“fine bossy.” you quickly grabbed a blanket and your presents to the boys but only leaving jungwoos close to your window so you wouldnt forget about it. you sat next to him giving a bit of space but once you stilled he had scoot closer to you and covered the both of you. but to you it was just for the warmth, but to him he just wanted to be as close as he could to you; he missed you more than you could imagine.

there was nothing that could prepare you for what was coming next but now that you were here with him you feel like you get the closure you had been searching for with him.

“here i got you this, open it” jake handed you a drawstring bag and what seemed to be a JOINT. being new to the fact that they are stoner and have developed a reputation for smoking back in aussie now its just so natural for them to pull this type of behavior and it be normal for them, its still unfamiliar to you for them to be doing such things. but despite being surprised with the joint you began to pull the bag apart while watching the strings sink back into the baggie, the bag had been way heavier than you had anticipated, it was a necklace that had a beautiful design and on the back there was a j engraved on the back.

“jake i can't accept this, how much was it i can pay you back after i get paid.” you tried to reason with him but he shook his head and laughed thinking the reaction was just so you and absolutely adored the way you looked.

“very funny, but i'm pretty sure that's not how gifts work, unless you use that on all of your brothers friends. no wonder you have so much nice shit.” he teased you causing you to lightly hit his arm. you had admired the necklace for a second before responding. he knew you didn’t know many of jungwoos friends the way you know him and of course he liked it that way, in all honesty he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“jake seriously, thank you so much i really do love it. its beautiful.” you smiled at him and he reached towards the necklace to put on you. “here let me help darling.” he said quickly as if he was hiding what he was saying from himself and you. you almost didnt catch it, it was so fast. jake’s hands graze your neck and move your hair for you you barley even had to turn that how close you guys were together. he finished and let his hand linger on your neck before glancing from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes.

you weren’t oblivious to what jake was wanting but you didn’t know to what extent, you’ve always had a crush on him but if you did anything with him there was always the strong possibility that jake wouldn’t reciprocate any of the feelings. and thats something you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to risk that and yet here you were mere centimeters away from your brothers best friend, something in jake had him shake back into reality and tuck your hair behind your ear. you couldn’t say you were disappointed because that would mean you wanted something more even thought jungwoo would never allow it.

“so pretty girl did you want to try smoking if not its okay, its up to you pretty.” he pulled out a lighter and held it the same hand with the joint. waiting for your response, he never pushed you to do something you didn’t want, jungwoo would constantly tease you for being scared of things but once jake heard about it he would explain everything logically so you wouldn’t have to worry. there were so many things that you could say made you fall for him but there was never a way to exactly pinpoint that moment but that was in the past, your not that little girl anymore. you nodded “sure it couldn’t hurt.” you said with a smile as you snuggled into the blanket due to the wind picking up.

jake began to light the joint with ease even with the wind, the lighter illuminated his features while he scoot impossibly closer to you and put his arm around you to keep you warm. he went and took a couple of hits before handing it to you, you inspect the joint before hesitating to take a hit. “just suck it lightly or else you’ll start coughing.” he explained while you nodded and begin to take a hit, and immediately after you had a coughing fit which made jake giggle but he rubbed your back as you recovered, god how was he so hot just taking care of you while you both smoke.

you couldnt even begin to guess whats going on with jake but you knew he was fighting with himself on the inside, but to jakes understanding it was you. nothing else really matter to him, school was always easy for him, girls were always easy to get and he was set for life in terms of funds for his smoking (issue) but none of that filled that part of him that he desperately was trying to find once he left for college. now that he’s back home there is nothing but overfill, you mights not have known it but he could never point it out to jungwoo, but you know what jungwoo isnt here. you were both legal adults with lives of your own, jungwoo will have to deal with the decision jake is about to make. with the drugs in both your systems it had you both talking about anything and everything.

“doll listen-“ “jake you can not keep up these nicknames someone can hear you, you know that the walls are thinner than paper unfortunately..” you began to ramble as he takes your cheek into his palm, his thumb caressing your cheek slowly, he gains your attention and continues.

“you know i used to really like you growing up right?” he keeps his hand on you slowly beginning to moving them in between your neck and jawline, just from that you get tingles all over and you take a hit successfully without coughing. you shook your head turning towards him to get some more clarification passing the joint to him but he declines.

“i've liked you since the first day i met you. then jungwoo told me if i ever dated you, he would actually chop my nuts off…” he trails off while you giggle at him, there was something so he was searching for in his head, to which he grabbed the joint from you and put it out on the roof.

“i also never had the courage to actually tell you before but-“ you cut him off before he could say anything else by crashing your lips on his, he felt like he was starved practically devouring your lips with his own. the taste of you was enough to send him to cloud 9 for a permanent vacation. it took everything in him to not to press forward right here on the roof top letting the whole neighborhood who you truly belonged to let alone the your family finding out that there was anything going on between you guys in the first place.

jake pulled away from the kiss but before he fully pulled away he places a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips and one more gently on your lips, it was sweet not harsh and fast as the other but more passion in the one kiss small kiss than he has during this confession.

“jake if you read the letter you’ll understand how i feel about you- how ive always felt about you” you say pulling yourself away from his grasp putting some distance between each other, not wanting to confuse each other any further.

“i think you should read it before we continue any of this” you gesture your hands towards the both of you. once again jake had that pretty boy smile nodding his head letting you think you have any control of this because he wants you that badly. and in all honesty jake would wait forever for you to let him have his way with you. but only if you wanted it back in return, and little did you know he already knew.

“go inside pretty girl, its getting cold and i have someones letter to reread.” he assisted you to your window and said his goodnights to you as you closed the window and made sure it was locked. you had no idea about this effect you had on him, and he was going to let anyone or anything get in the way of you guys.

you began to head to bed trying to process all of the things that happened in the short span of the day. you were glad that your brother was home but what you didn’t expect was his best friend to confess he’s been in love with you since even before you’ve had a crush on him.

oh god you were never finishing this project if this was the outcome for confessing your more heartfelt feelings you couldn’t imagine how the rest of the school year would go and its only the middle of summer break…

❀᭢᜴꤬⠀

if anything this summer has been a breeze up until its jake being less and less secretive about this little thing you guys have going on. you’ll be out hanging out with jungwoo as normal jake will tag along too, but this time he’s leaving lingering touches on your waist and slipping out sweet nicknames in front of jungwoo, practically telling him that something was up between you two. but also its been more than easy to hide it from him as well, ever since jungwoo reconnected with sakura he’s been head over heels with this women, finding more and more ways to sneak into her sorority house without the other members getting mad (how can they be mad if they dont know?)

while only means that the house is more than likely empty and with jungwoo gone your parents felt more comfortable if jake would stay in the guest bedroom at the house while you were home alone, which actually turned into you waking with jakes head in between your legs.

he wouldn’t let any of this disturb you from your work though, he was always willing to leave you be while you have to work hard to finish all your projects. but from time to time he would start reciting certain sentences from your letter to get you all stirred up. he loved knowing everything about you and he wanted to learn everything else, anything he possibly could learn about you.

he found himself yearning to be around you while you were finishing your final project, wanting to keep you near him as much as possible. he’s never found himself attached to anyone like this before, there has never been a girl he’s hooked up with that has had him in such much pure infatuation before he really doesn’t know what he wants other than to make sure youre happy and taken care of. of course he was smart he had all a’s and he rarely needed help for assignments but he couldn’t quite figure out what spell it is that you had put on him in order to be this in love with him.

the sun just began to peak out from the windows and your parents always were out the door super late at night till the early morning so they can be there for you during the day. which mean jake was heading into your room to join you for the morning, meaning he was ready to start your morning right.

“babyyy its cold cmere” you began to whine as jakes warm hand began to wrap around you till you were warm enough for him to start scooting down towards your hips leaving firm wet kisses all the way down just before the hem of your underwear, fiddling with it waiting for you to urge him to continue further. not wanting to waste anymore time you lifted your hips to where his palms is placed over your entrance earning a respective moan from your mouth. he quickly leaned up and kissed your lips as he pushes your underwear down to your ankles before heading down to pleasure you in any way he can, these early mornings were practice for him, learning everything that you liked, it was always for your own pleasure never his own. why would he care when he can fuck you as much as he wanted all night long, just as long as jungwoo never finds out.

jake begins to rub your thighs as he hooks his hands around your thighs to keep them spread as wide as he can get you, he places open mouth kisses all along your where your thighs and hole meet. he changes from kitten licks to longs strides against your clit just barely working you up, he added a couple of fingers in to the mix to keep you going, but he couldn’t get enough of your taste at this point he felt like there was so much he wanted and all of it was you, he wanted to be entirely suffocated into you. his hands begin to grip your hips trying to keep them down as he pushes his face further into your hole to where his soft nose was bumping against your clit, but to your surprise it wasn’t doing it for you, something needed to be different no matter how much you grind into his face, it wasn’t enough.

“mhmf ja-ake please i-“ jake begins to lift his head his lips leave a pop from your wetness, he tries to read your body and what it wants. “want more baby, m’ want to top please.” was all you could manage to get out, how could you when his hands kept on your clit as he spit into your hole wanting more access to finger you even more before flipping you so you could finish your high.

“okay baby just a little bit more for me okay- mmf you taste to fucking good.” he says lifting his head up and down not getting enough from eating you out, he cant wait to see whats its like to eat you out entirely. he pulls away from you entirely and begins to strip you entirely and you do the same for him, not wanting the moment to stop, he starts to lay down and pull you down towards him and you kinda just hover over his lips, you can feel his breath as he blows against your wetness causing you to stifle a moan before he speaks.

“baby you gotta sit down baby, i cant taste you at all.” he tries to lick any part of your hole but nothing gets touched. “mmh but-“ he already knew you were always so shy about things like this being so intimidating, he was always there to give a little a little push. he wouldn’t mind suffocating by your pussy, he wrapped his hands around your thighs and pulled you all the way down so there was no room for breathing, all he wanted was you and now he was naked on the bed eating you out as the sun came up, what more can this man want. the answer wasn’t so simple but as long as you were with him, he wouldn’t care what would happen to him.

just as you were about to finish you heard a door slam and from the sounds of it, it was jungwoo and sakura. but you didn’t want to risk anything happening, jungwoo would kill us if he found us wether sakura was there or not. but for fucks sakes the one time jungwoo magically decides to come home is when you were pussy deep on jakes face and you weren’t stoping any time soon, you grab on to jakes hair and continue to roll your hips as jakes tongue continues to prod at your clenching hole.

“hmf fuck jake please more please m’ almost there.” the thought of you getting caught was no where in sight, you couldn’t care any longer if anyone could hear anything pertaining you or jake. at this point there is nothing else you cared about all you could think about the way his mouth was moving on you right now. you were in heaven every ache in your body was washing way, the grip jake had on your hips was like he wanted to be permanently attached to your other set of lips. your hips begin to stutter and your orgasm spasms all over jakes face as he tries to lick up all he can before it spreads down to your sheets. you finally manage to tear away from jakes lips to finally let him breathe before doing anything further.

“mh baby are you okay?” you wiped up jakes face as he continued to catch his breath. his chest rises and lowers as you sat down on his waist not noticing the rock hard cock that kept tapping your ass. “did you hear the door too?” was all he managed to let out before sitting up slightly, putting his weight on this elbows behind him and admiring you sitting pretty on him.

“yea, it sounded like jungwoo and possibly sakura..” you began to pause not knowing how to word what you wanted to say but the words came out anyways “..but i couldn’t care who hears us at this point, im done hiding this.” you start lifting your hips to line up with his twitching cock, jake released a sigh as you continue to slide down his thickness, letting your plum ass sink all the way down taking him in perfectly. you guys could hear foot steps around the house as you kept going raising your hips and dropping them hard trying to get some noises out of jake, he would never let you get caught but he was really losing this little game you decided to play. but jake was not one for games, except when it came to you. while you go to raise your hips once more he lift his hips into yours as soon as you sank down and you couldn’t help but to let out a vocal moan “mmf-fuck jake”

as soon as the words left your mouth, you stilled your hips and your eyes widened, and there he was with that stupid smile as he flipped the two of you as he continued to ram his hips into you as he kissed your lips making sure to shut you up, he didn’t care if jungwoo walked into the room at least then the relationship wasn’t a secret— then he could truly fuck you whenever he wanted.

“baby you better watch your words or else we will have an audience soon.” he leaned in licking your ear going down kiss you once more on the lips. his thrust became sloppier as time went on and your walls began to flutter, you both with more than ready to release when you heard a knock on your door that didn’t stop jake from keeping his pace while he signaled you to answer the door.

“f-fucking go away” was all you could think of as you continue to chase your high.

“jeez” you could hear sakura on the other side of the door, followed by the closing of the door across the hall— that being jungwoo’s room meant he was more than likely going to put two and two together. there was more of a possibility of you both getting caught if sakura tells him.

with jake never stopping you both began to unravel and jake collapses on you and begins to kiss your face and all over your neck down your shoulders to your tummy and hips, wanting you to relax as best as you can not letting you over work yourself.

“dont worry about them alright. they’ll never figure it out.” jake began to say as you shake your head.

“are you crazy, who else would hear skin slapping and moaning YOUR name and not assume we were having sex, let alone whatever this is between us” you gesture to the two of you, not wanting jungwoo to break up whatever you had with jake, because as much as you wanted to have faith in your relationship with jake, you knew he was always going to think its a game.

“oh doll its fine, you act like he hasn’t done stupid shit at your age too, i mean us being together shouldn’t bother him anymore.” you couldn’t just let jake keep getting away with this anymore than you guys already have, if he wasn’t going to finally make things official then why bother in the first place. you were breaking this off before it could crush your heart anymore than it already did.

“well if you think us is also stupid then we should stop this now, im not doing this any more— i just cant jake.” you began to sit up and put clothes on leaving jake on the bed naked looking a little confused. but before he said anything he gathered his thoughts not wanting you to over think this any longer.

he sat up, tugging you towards him before speaking, his full attention on you as you sat with him. “baby i didn’t mean it like that, i want you more than anything i’ve wanted in a while..” he paused before continuing.

“.. and from now on im not letting anything or anyone get in the way of having you by my side, not even jungwoo.” that last part came out more like a promise.

he reached for your hands pulling them close to his hands placing kisses along your knuckles. “will you be my girlfriend? i can’t imagine my life without you baby, please don’t think i don’t want to be with you. i would do anything for us to stay together, even if jungwoo wants to beat my ass.”

you chuckled at him and nodded, feeling like this has been something some magical wish that has been finally granted, you reached out and wrapped your arms around jakes neck and kisses him as he began to lay back down with your lips on his. he can finally die a happy man with his dream girl.

“alright baby, lets clean you up and go see what those two want, yeah?” jake insisted as he began kissing you and walking into the bathroom, the only possible think you had over your brother was your own bathroom (that and his best friend is wrapped around your finger)

❀᭢᜴꤬⠀

after your close encounter with sakura and jungwoo you insisted jake leave only for him to chase you out of your room to go hang out with jungwoo, the whole way down there was a pit building in your stomach, what if jungwoo knew what sakura had potentially heard, that meant anything you could have had with jake would be gone, but nonetheless you had to face him some how after this.

with jake leading the way, you hung back slowly trailing behind, but before you could process anything you could smell a familiar scent— you found jake taking a lit blunt from jungwoo, as jungwoo was exhaling he locked eyes with you can nearly choked on the smoke.

“i swear if you tell mom-“ jake was quick to cut jungwoo off at your defence.

“you act like we weren’t doing the same shit at her age, she’s fine” he said passing the blunt to offer to you, but you shake your head about to speak.

“mom can barely recognize the fact that you bring sakura over practically every night, why would i start snitching now?” you explained while sakura shrugged in agreement offering you the blunt before passing it in the circle again— to which you accepted taking in the smoke a tiny bit before almost coughing. which had jungwoo wide eye looking at you and sakura, shaking his head before you could pass the blunt to jake as he left lingering touches on your hand as you pulled away, as jungwoo and sakura began making small talk with you and jake, but in all honesty it seemed like nothing was wrong which made you feel ten times better.

“so are you two together?” sakuras words could silence a room faster than your thoughts could keep up with. immediately you shake your head and jake looked at you for a split second and nods. jungwoo immediately turns to jake then to you and starts putting two and two together before handing the blunt to you, expecting a response to what jake means.”

“ive had a crush on y/n since middle school to be honest…” jake turn towards you before continuing. “...but she wont admit it till she knows it okay with her brother.” thats it, you AND jake were done for— there was no way that jungwoo; the brother who as always protected you for any reason you needed, he was always going to be there for you, but would he really be okay with the fact that you have been messing around with his best friend.

“jungwoo has more shit to deal with rather than who his sister and friends are dating..” sakura turned to jungwoo reading his already upset facial expression, “its that right baby?” she questioned him, making sure you get an immediate answer. she already liked the two of you together, if she could get you two together than you guys wouldn’t have to hide it anymore to which jake was eternally grateful for.

“not that i want to control your life but.. at least i know you are safe with this little shit.” jungwoo left it at that as he put the blunt out, as he wrapped his hands around sakura’s waist and began to walk inside shutting the sliding glass door afterwards.

you turn to jake smacking his arm before he could say anything, “what the hell was that?? how did you get him to just let us be??” you began to question him, thoughts running a million miles an hour but jake takes your cheek into his hand caressing it ever so gently, as if he could loose you at any moment. but now he really had nothing to worry about.

“i didn’t know anything, but i know i was more nervous than you were; i thought jungwoo was gonna kill me just with his glare.” he explained pulling you in closer. “but i needed to tell him, i didnt want anything keeping me from my girl.”

for the first time it feels like you could finally be free with your feelings, not wondering what jungwoo was thinking. you began to wrapping your arms around your boyfriends neck pulling him impossibly closer.

“oh jakey poo your so dumb” pulling him into a hug as he rubbed the small of your back with one hand then going to mess up your hair with the other.

“oh now it’s jakey poo.” he points out as you roll your eyes and pull him into a kiss before guiding you inside.

masterlist

tag list- @jakeshotpocket @soobinsnumber1

#theresawtf thoughts #enhypen fic #theresawtf drabbles #sim jaeyun #jake sim #jake enhypen #jake fic #jake smut #enhypen smut

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

Text

Miguel’s and reader’s meet cute (baby daddy AU: College days prequels)

Baby Daddy Masterlist

Not proofread.

Word count: 900

Taglist is closed!!

—

Miguel had always been told from his elders that college was going to be a fresh start. A new school, a new roommate, new possible friends, new opportunities, a new path to his future. He had been preparing and planning how his freshmen year would go the second he finished walking the stage at his high school.

So far, things were going to plan, he made it to his first set of classes early to get a good seat, although not in the front due to his height (he didn’t want to be an ass to the people behind him), was able to get up early in the morning to go to the gym, his relationship with his roommate Peter was even going well. Although he was a bit more of an extrovert then himself, they still got along fairly fine. So far everything has worked out for him.

His third day of classes was going just like the first two did, waking up around eight a.m, working out till ten, getting a protein shake and some breakfast, then be at his first class by twelve. To his surprise though, the lecture hall was already almost filled despite him being ten minutes early. Making sure to take a mental note to try arriving a bit early as he took one of the few lingering seats in the back row between a girl and another guy.

The girl next to him shot him a quick smile when she saw him sitting in the empty seat to her right, one to which he returned before going to quietly set up his laptop for note taking. She was quite pretty, her hair clipped up into a ponytail, long-sleeve cream top and some flared leggings, a black backpack hanging off her chair and a metal water bottle covered in stickers next to her laptop, also covered in stickers. But despite her warm and welcoming presence, Miguel decided to pay her no mind as he idly waited for class to start.

After another few minutes, the professor finally began. Droning on mostly about the course expectations and grade requirements, before he starts his actual lesson. The room was mostly quiet except the professor and the occasional murmur from other students talking between one another about the subject. Miguel was so sucked into the lecture, he barely noticed the quiet tapping of a finger on his desk.

“Hey. Excuse me.” The quiet whisper pulled him back to present time, turning to the source of the voice, the pretty girl who’s sitting next to him. “Hey sorry, I didn’t pick up the last thing he said, it’s kinda hard to hear him from up here. Can I…” you trailed off, pointing towards his laptop. Usually, Miguel would scoff at the implication of someone asking him to take a glance at his notes, telling them to ask someone else or maybe pay better attention. But for the pretty girl in his statistics class…

“Yeah here.” He whispered back, turning his laptop to his side so she could see better, giving her a moment to write it down before turning it back to its original spot.

“Thanks.”

“Course.”

That’s were the conversation should have ended, he should have left that be and just focused back on the last twenty minutes of class before walking out to his next one. Leaving this be a passing moment, a barely acquaintance that he’d nodded at when you’d cross paths in the courtyard until he simply didn’t anymore. Instead though.

“I like your water bottle.”

“Hmm?”

“I like your water bottle. It’s cute.”

“Oh.” God that sweet, sweet smile, made his heart melt a bit. “Thank you, I was hoping it doesn’t come across as childish or anything.”

“Oh no it’s fun, I just have one of those plastic Gatorade ones.”

He didn’t even notice that he ended up making conversation till the lesson was over, finally realizing when he saw the guy to his left get up.

“Guess class is over, huh?”

“Oh-yeah, looks like it is.”

Miguel set his laptop back in his bag, and got up, waiting till you did the same before walking out of the lecture hall.

“Thanks again for letting me glance at your notes.”

“Of course, if you ever need help with notes, just let me know.”

“Yeah totally, I’ll try to catch you after class or something if we don’t sit next to each other next time.” Oh, he was definitely planning on sitting next to you next time. But he wasn’t going to admit that, instead he shook his head and waved his hand to play it cool.

“No, that's too much of a hassle, let me give you my number, so you can just shoot me a text.” Wait till his younger brother found out he already gave a girl his number during his third day of class.

You both took a second to exchange numbers, Miguel was about to create the contact when he realized he never got your name.

“I’m sorry , I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself. I’m Miguel.” He said as he stuck his hand out towards you.

“I’m (Y/N).” Pretty name for a pretty girl. You quickly took his hand in yours, shaking it before putting it back to your side.

“Well I hope to see you around, (Y/N).”

If only he knew his faith with the pretty girl from his statics class.

—

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#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #bd!miguel #baby daddy!miguel #miguel fanfic #miguel o hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 #college days prequels

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aseaofyoongi · 9 months

Text

my heart did | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: e2l | bully romance | smut | angst

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?

warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and unprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.

word count: 25,5 thousand words

posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM

notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧

The sun is now setting.

Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time.

Fucking Mondays.

You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different.

For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus.

Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed.

Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance.

Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips.

There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily.

Well, as happily as you could be.

God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity.

Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move.

Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something.

You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted.

Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time.

Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty.

You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty.

Again, fifty-nine.

And, again, fifty-eight.

Once more, fifty-seven.

In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement.

“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.”

You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.”

He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.”

“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.”

“Bitch?” he guffawed.

“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged.

“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked.

The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach.

As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together.

You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques.

His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact.

“What?” you barked.

“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.”

What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words.

Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday.

The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School.

You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from.

The two of you came from two different worlds.

He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair.

“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter.

“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.”

He hummed, “go on.”

The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself.

You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became.

Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell.

Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips.

But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him.

Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea.

He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from.

Two different people. Two different worlds.

“Are you going to tell me what you need?”

“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.”

By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade.

There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him.

“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.”

“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone.

“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.”

“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?”

“I never said—“

Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin.

You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful.

“You did kind of imply it.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“Does to me.”

His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth. There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either.

It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace.

“You know, you keep averting my question.”

“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.”

“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in.

He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit.

And it would all be your fault.

“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.”

The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together.

“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch.

Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch.

“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head.

“Curious?”

You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?”

“Kiss you?”

You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions.

“Okay,” he breathed.

There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from.

But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips.

You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts.

His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes.

He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever.

You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another.

His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was.

No one. Certainly not your boyfriend.

You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly.

You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . .

Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top.

His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.

Though, you knew you deserved the latter.

“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work.

He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”

“Jungkook. .” you trailed off.

“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?”

Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.

“Jungkook, just shut up.”

But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book.

“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out.

“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.”

“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours.

Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours.

You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.”

“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words.

“That’s not the reason why…”

“Then, why… Why?”

Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment.

“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.”

“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .”

“No?” he asked.

“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything.

“You want me to forgive you?”

You remained quiet.

“Then, beg.”

“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.”

They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out. He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say.

Things would always remain this way.

He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.”

You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words.

Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower.

Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be.

Fucking invisible.

Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi.

You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low.

A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque.

With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure.

“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk.

He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality.

“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked.

“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees.

“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.”

Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind.

“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook.

“Spoke?”

You nodded.

“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?”

“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”

“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes.

“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.”

“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins.

“There was definitely a lot of harm done.”

“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.”

Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him.

This guilt.

It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom.

Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward.

“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?”

“We broke up.”

You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him.

“What happened?” you offered.

“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Did something happen before all of this?”

“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.”

“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.”

He remained silent before continuing.

“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.”

“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.

“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”

“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.”

“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close.

“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.”

He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!”

“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.”

“Bitch.”

As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room.

It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny.

Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago.

For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right.

It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid.

The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder.

Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.

“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”

“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”

“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?”

“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.”

“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled.

“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.”

You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this.

Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella.

It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well.

You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you.

Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago.

In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by.

It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.

Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose.

Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom.

“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him.

“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it.

“You need something else to get your mind off of it.”

He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up.

“I know.”

“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.

“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs.

“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.”

“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”

“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.”

“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.”

Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die.

The set-up was easy.

There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile.

Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period.

Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled.

‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read.

You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure.

“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.”

“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day.

He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you.

Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye.

“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”

“Tell me.”

“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.”

He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.”

The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips.

Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?”

Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you around.”

Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.”

The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command.

The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness.

There were too many feelings jumbled into one.

“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers.

He’s breathtaking, he’s always been.

“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.”

Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.”

“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.”

“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.”

He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”

“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.”

“Soaked,” you snickered.

“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

“Where did my umbrella even go?”

He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other.

You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”

“Were you going somewhere?”

“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction.

Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries.

You feared falling into him—falling for him.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.”

“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.”

“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.”

Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done.

If only you could turn back time you’d make things right.

In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap.

“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street.

“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.”

“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back.

He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?

The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window.

Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?”

“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.”

“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”

Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.”

Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.”

“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”

“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?”

Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain.

“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?”

You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”

“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing.

“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.”

“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.”

“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.”

They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately.

“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him.

“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.”

Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.”

You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips, as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open.

“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?”

“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you.

“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.”

Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time.

“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”

You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you.

“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction.

“I told you to not worry about it..”

“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.”

“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”

“No, I feel like I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered.

He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.”

You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC.

“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know.

“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.”

“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.”

“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began.

“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.”

The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”

Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.”

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever.

He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.

“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”

“It’s no problem.”

“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.”

After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that.

You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.

“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them.

“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.”

He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you?

“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm.

I shouldn’t have said anything.

You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared.

Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.

Jungkook was gone.

The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.

Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder.

You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever.

‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’

‘I can’t believe I did it either.”

‘What was it like?’

The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning.

All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom.

‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’

‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’

Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever.

‘Yeah, thankfully.’

You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain.

Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now.

You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they were easy to follow until they weren’t.

Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least.

“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.

That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up.

The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts.

“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you.

“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway.

You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”

“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”

By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete.

He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over.

“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”

He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.”

The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing.

You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.

A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second.

You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.”

Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for.

Fuck, do I still like her?

Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this.

I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever.

Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of thoughts breaking out in his head.

Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled.

You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet.

The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple.

Does she think of me?

I do.

Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?

I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now.

Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy.

Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone.

By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep.

Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..”

“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.”

“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.”

“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said.

“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again.

What did I even dream about?

You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did.

Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans.

He seemed. . frustrated.

Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her.

The image in your head was impure as soon as you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality.

I want her touch—need it. So bad.

You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction.

This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right.

Ignore.

God, I would fuck her so good.

Think of something else.

With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought.

You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up.

She would take me so well. Fuck!

A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes.

You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.

His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.

While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again.

The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell.

I hate how much I still want her.

I hate that I can’t have her.

You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.

The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is.

The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck.

The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came.

God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime?

“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?”

He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’

Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?”

How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench.

“No. .” you shook your head.

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.”

The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either.

“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.”

You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?”

His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.”

“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim.

“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?”

“After four?”

“See you then.”

For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element.

“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.”

You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors.

“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.”

“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged.

“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again.

“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.”

You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?”

“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.”

“You never told me what happened.”

“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.”

“The one he threw the week before school started?”

“Yes.”

“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.”

You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.”

He didn’t say anything so you continued.

Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for.

The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet.

You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o.

After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded.

Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled.

Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around.

You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did.

Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money.

You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night.

The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly.

It was a rooftop balcony.

The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set.

Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots.

He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him.

The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.”

“So, why aren’t you down stairs?”

“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently.

“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.”

Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame.

“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.”

“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?”

Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”

“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.”

“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.”

You sneered, “audacious? Big word.”

“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .”

“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.”

“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.”

“Brains and beauty,” you corrected.

“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being.

Only he lived in your thoughts.

The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way.

“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?”

He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?”

“That you are more beautiful than life itself.”

Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm.

“Are you drunk?” he asked.

“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.”

“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose.

His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.”

“You know I can’t believe that right?”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.”

“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.”

“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,”

“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils.

Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?”

“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that.

“So just admit you wanted to lo—”

You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted.

The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses.

Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.”

You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”

“Are you trying to confess something?”

He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin.

“Tell me.”

You hummed.

“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?”

Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .”

“Should I stop?”

“No, please,” you pant.

He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.”

From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”

Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds, “wait so you guys. .?”

You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook.

“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all.

“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.”

Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.”

You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”

He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue.

“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.”

“Did you ever find who took the picture?”

“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.”

“How did they even come up with that?”

“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.”

“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.”

“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.”

“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?”

“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.”

“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.”

“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth?

“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.”

“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”

Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing.

You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project.

Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement.

After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door.

Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder.

Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone.

Why is she staring at me like that?

Do I have a stain or something?

He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly.

“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.”

He nodded.

The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door.

Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight.

Where the fuck is Jimin?

I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer.

And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out.

Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did.

Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.

That’ll literally fix nothing at all.

You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly.

“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly.

“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized.

You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more.

He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.”

“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?”

He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.”

“Okay.”

Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah.

You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.”

“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook.

“Titanic?” you asked.

“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?”

“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, “the assignment is practically done for us already.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.”

“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink.

“I wasn’t moaning.”

I was last night though.

You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.”

“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.”

“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them.

He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.”

Don’t smirk.

Eternally mad at her, remember?

The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you.

It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours.

You shrugged, “maybe I do.”

“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours.

Look away.

But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t.

“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions.

She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her.

Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier.

Fucking one way telepathy.

“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit.

You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.”

Fuck.

Fuck!

He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.”

“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good.

Fuck it.

His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him.

“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.”

Tell her. It’s easy.

Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot.

He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you.

“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed.

His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament.

You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?”

He hummed.

“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth.

“Alot of things.”

You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”

“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?”

Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters.

Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum.

“Good boys don’t touch themself.”

Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive.

You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you.

“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.”

“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed.

His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off.

It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention.

You wanted it so bad.

You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?”

“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?”

“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.”

“Then, how is it supposed to go?”

Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible.

His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition.

Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck!

“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.”

You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth.

“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?”

Been such a good boy. So good.

You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired.

After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee.

“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.”

“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.”

“You have?”

“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.”

I do want you. So bad.

And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will.

He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom.

… But you were not disappointed.

He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years.

In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you.

“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.

“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.”

He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.”

“Fuck you, Jimin.”

“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.”

“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.”

Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course.

“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired.

“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not.

“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.”

You nodded.

“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?”

“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path.

“Don’t just say it. Mean it.”

The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.

The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair.

You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.

It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy.

You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches.

You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away.

You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well.

I need to talk to her. Yeah.

Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you.

‘Hey, can we please talk?’

Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never.

‘Sure. When are you free?’

‘Right now.’

‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’

‘Come to my apartment in 5.’

‘K.’

Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide.

You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while.

“Jungkook, are you okay?”

He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.”

“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space.

“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.”

“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.”

“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.”

“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?”

“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.”

“Isn’t it everyones?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.”

“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.”

“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.”

You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?”

Go on. Go on.

“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach.

“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?”

“Forget that.”

Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it.

“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.”

“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.”

“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.”

His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.”

“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”

“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.”

“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.”

“What exactly are you asking me?”

“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.”

He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?”

“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge.

“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”

“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move.

She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together.

“How about tomorrow?”

“I’m free tomorrow.”

The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit.

Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin.

The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things. This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine.

For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance.

But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in.

You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore.

You look beautiful every single day.

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.”

This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots.

“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.”

I also know they were always your favorite look on me.

“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting.

“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.”

“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day?

“They are the exact same ones.”

“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo.

“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.”

“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?”

He nodded before taking a small sip of his water.

“Jungkook?”

He looked at you, “what?”

“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?”

Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.”

“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt.

“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his.

“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos.

“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?”

“I think I’ll take the Paella.”

“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad.

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen.

The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around.

“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?”

“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.”

“You prepared snacks for us?”

“More like I cut-up some fruits.”

“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.”

“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.”

You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes.

Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters.

She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm.

Don’t flex. . Don’t flex.

Dammit.

He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face.

You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?”

“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.”

“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined.

“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed.

“Art didn’t always come easy to me.”

“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create.

“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.”

“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.”

“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.”

“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.”

Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath.

“Thank thank you,” he stammered.

“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.”

He beamed, “what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are your passions?”

You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.”

“But then. .”

“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.”

“Funny how life works right?”

“One-hundred percent.”

The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it.

Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself.

The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one.

Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course.

After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.”

“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around.

“Be nice, okay?”

“I will, I will.”

When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright.

“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was.

“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.”

“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him.

You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never.

He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement.

“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”

“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.”

“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.”

You scoffed.

“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.”

“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered.

Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see.

“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.”

He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through.

“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.”

He guffawed while passing his painting over.

“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is. It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.”

“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.”

“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.”

“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp.

You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”

“Always.”

Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever.

His muse. You love the sound of that.

The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.

Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom.

The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on.

Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other.

“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back.

“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained.

“And moving will only make us hotter.”

“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.”

His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.”

“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard.

“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed.

“I just like having you. . here.”

“In your room?” he asked.

“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.”

“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.”

Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.”

Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.”

“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.”

“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.”

“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.”

But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead.

“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.”

You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.”

“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint.

The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back.

You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?”

He nodded.

“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook.

You were dickmatized. Yes, you were.

“You have me.”

“I want all of you.”

“Take it all,” he whispered.

Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking.

You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation.

“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver.

You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars.

“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire.

What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever.

“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths.

“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned.

Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there.

His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations.

Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated.

“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.”

“You tired yet?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly.

“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you.

“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?”

“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.”

Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins.

“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky.

While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all.

“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?”

“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.”

He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.”

“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior. Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud.

He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress.

“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.”

Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch.

The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before.

“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath.

You nodded frantically.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still.

You nodded once again.

Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants.

His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead.

She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky.

“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth.

“Yes?”

“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.”

Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right.

“Okay—okay,” he stammered.

Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room.

“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.”

He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly.

“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void.

“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.

You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?”

“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked.

“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip.

“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.”

“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ”

Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come.

“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine.

“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.”

“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .”

“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.”

Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet.

“I’m coming!” He cried out.

The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue.

“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up.

A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface.

“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed.

“And Jimin.”��

“And they saw?”

“Mhm.”

“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”

“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door.

A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you.

“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“Yes?.”

“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible.

Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.”

There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth.

Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that.

I’ll always stay with you.

an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<

i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #mentions of literally every member + txt’s yeonjun

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kennedyalike · 11 months

Note

sex with leon after a fight like jealousy or something idk 🤭🤭

all mine

hope you like this, sorry if it isn’t what you hoped for!!

pairing: leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags: jealousy, possesiveness, p in v sex, car sex, semi public sex

summary: leon sees you working out with carlos and can’t help but feel jealous

word count: 1,78k

you: comin’ to get me?

leon: i’m already in the parking lot, can i come in?

you: be my guest

The gym wasn’t your favorite place, but you had to do what you had to do. While squatting up a huge barbell, your eyes can’t help but to gaze at the door, wondering when Leon would come in. Suddenly the barbell feels lighter and you snap back to reality.

”Hey, focus!” Carlos grunts behind you as he helps you lift the barbell back to the rack. You sigh and stretch your legs quickly, pulling yourself back in the moment. ”Go again. I’ll help, okay?” He reassures you as you lift the barbell back onto your shoulders again. Widening your stance and fixing your posture, you get ready to squat.

Carlos’ hands finds itself grabbing your waist on both sides to help you keep your form. He pulls himself closer, hip almost joining yours as he watches you squat down slowly. You almost forgot all about Leon, focusing on squatting this thing. As you come up and lift the barbell back to its rack, you turn around to Carlos and smile. ”I did it!”

He smiles back at you while you hold your hand up, waiting for a high five. Instead, he pulls you into a hug and you accept it, chuckling as you wrap your arms around him. Carlos’ hands grab your waist again as he hugs you. Over his shoulder, you see Leon standing at the door, waiting for you.

You quickly pull out of the hug and say your goodbyes to Carlos. ”See you monday, lookin’ good!” He compliments you and you nod back, grabbing your gym bag and walking towards Leon. As you walk, he just stares your body up and down the whole way until you’re in front of him, waving your hand jokingly across his face. ”Eyes up here, Leon.” You tease him, but he only looks past you, his brows furrowed. He seems annoyed.

He grabs your arm and practically drags you out of the gym. If Leon knew this was what you were doing at the gym, he wouldn't have allowed you to go there in the first place. Who was he to decide that anyways? He was a friend, just like Carlos. A friend. Except he wasn’t. He was far more than a friend but he wasn’t your boyfriend either. You both knew it was more than friends. Couple dates, hangouts, calls and maybe you two did fuck on occasion, who knows?

Leon wasn’t as dumb as you, Carlos was a good ”friend” you met at the gym who offered to help you to ”keep your form” or whatever. Bullshit. Leon saw right through it just now. The way Carlos’ hands sneaked around your waist, pulling himself closer to you as you squat in front of him. He definitely had ulterior motives, he wasn’t just helping you. But of course, you were too innocent and oblivious to understand.

You furrow your brows in concern while you follow Leon to his car in the parking lot, letting him slightly drag you. ”Leon, is something wrong?” You hesitate to ask as he opens the backseat door of his car for you. Quietness follows and it makes you uneasy, you begin to wonder if Leon is actually jealous of Carlos. Maybe that was your plan all along.

You settle your bag into the legroom and sit, grabbing the door to close it until Leon stops you, suddenly getting into the back seat with you and closing the door after him. Before even beginning to speak, you’re interrupted by his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap. A blush creeps on your cheeks as you grab his shoulders and ground yourself, settling both thighs on the sides of his. ”Naughty girl.” Your eyes widen from confusion but you feel your stomach flutter from his words, sending a small sensation down between your thighs.

”You’re not even gonna say anything, hm?” He asks angrily. ”What do you mean, Leon?” You ask confusedly as you look at his annoyed face. He scoffs in return and you feel his grip on your hips tighten. ”You and him, stop that shit.” He says and you can’t help the small smirk forming in the corner of your mouth as you grind into him slightly.

”Are you jealous, Leon?” You tease him as you drag your fingers across his stern chest, looking up at him innocently. He looks away in annoyance and sighs. You continue looking at his face, seemingly unamused. ”He’s just a friend, means nothing bad, I promise.” You say honestly as your hand caresses his cheek, prompting him to look at you. His gaze finally turns to look you in the eyes. ”How would you feel if I went and grabbed some girl's waist while she squats in front of me, huh?”

Your hand never leaves his cheek as you think about it for a second. It would feel horrible, Leon looking at some other woman than you, grabbing her waist like he’s grabbing yours right now. You nod slowly. ”I get it. m’ sorry.” You apologize and nervously look away. He leans in closer to you, whispering to your ear. ”Show me how sorry you are, sweetheart.” His deep voice whispering to your ears sends a tingle down your body as you gasp slightly. ”W-What?”

”You heard me.”

”How?”

He smirks at your words and looks down at your lap, grinding your hips into his and you feel his erection through your gym shorts. ”B-But someone could see us..” You say unsurely as you try to deny the heat that was growing between your thighs. The thought of Leon taking you right here, where someone could see was getting you so wet. ”Then let them see.” The last word of his sentence mumbles quietly as his lips join yours in a kiss. He’s hungrily kissing you, while grinding your hips down on his painfully erect cock.

You grind into him and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you keep kissing him back. The sensation of his soft lips dominating over yours feels as amazing as ever. He was right, you were his and you were gonna prove it to him. His other hand trails up your body from your hips to your tits, he fondles them through your gym shirt, causing you to moan into the kiss slightly. You tilt your head to the left and let him press kisses into your neck. Rough kisses that would definitely leave a mark.

Your body shivers as he breathes into your neck, still pressing kisses. You whimper and grind your hips into his, desperate for some friction to your cunt. ”Show me how sorry you are, ride me.” He whispers into your ear again and you only nod frantically. ”Good girl.” He praises as you take off your shirt, leaving you in your busty bra as you start inching your gym shorts off. His big hands come to your aid as he slips them off, leaving you in your underwear.

You forgot all about your surroundings as you straddle his lap again, starting to unbuckle his belt while he carefully watches you, feeling proud of your obedience. You eagerly unbuckle his belt and push his pants down to his knees, boxers coming with them. His cock is fully erect and it stands against his clothes abdomen. You immediately grab it with your hands and start stroking it up and down. Leon groans from the contact as his hands find your hips, trying to pull you on top of his cock already.

His length was veiny, long and girthy, tip leaking with a small bead of precum as you stroke it a couple times before lifting your hips on top of him. His fingers hook around the fabric of your panties and pull them to the side. Slowly you guide his tip to your wet hole and you can basically feel yourself clenching around nothingness. You whine as you slowly start sitting down, pushing his cock deeper into you. His heavy breathing against your neck as you grab his shoulders with both hands and he grabs your hips, slamming you down on his cock.

”Oh my god!” You whine as he fully sheathed himself in you and starts bucking his hips up, fucking into you roughly. The stretch of his cock in you without any foreplay hurt at first, the burning contact as he fucks into you as he pleases. He lets out small breathy moans as he continues his pace, pampering your neck with suckling kisses as you turn into a whiny mess on top of him.

”Leon, s’ too much!” You moan into his ear as the slight pain starts turning into pleasure. Your pussy clenches around his cock while he pounds into you, forgetting that you were supposed to ride him. ”You can take it, right, baby?” He mocks you while lifting your hips up slightly so he could gain a better angle.

”Apologize, maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

”F-fuck! M’ sorry-Ah! Leon-h!” You desperately moan as he pounds into you. Wet sounds of your pussy wanting him even deeper echo in the car, you forget all about your surroundings as you start meeting his thrusts, broken moans escaping your mouth as you listen to him groan from the feeling. ”Good girl, just like that. Fuck, so tight.”

His other hand leaves your hips and sneaks down to circle around your clit as you keep lifting your hips up and down on his lap, rutting his cock inside you. ”Please, Leon..” You desperately whine when his thumb rubs on your clit, causing your pussy to clench on his cock, trying to milk it dry.

”Cum, it’s okay.” He reassures as his hips start picking up the pace again, feeling himself come closer to the edge of orgasm as well. Babbling incoherent ”m’ sorry’s” and his name all over again, you let go of the feeling and feel yourself cumming on his cock. You moan loudly as you lean towards his chest, basically hugging him as your body does numb and the orgasm washes over you. Leon keeps holding your hips with both hands, rummaging a few sloppy thrusts into your clenching hole until he finally is satisfied and releases his cum into you. He holds your hips close to his and tucks your hair behind your ears. While small whimpers still leave your mouth, he whispers into your ear. ”You’re all mine, d’ya understand?”

#leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 leon #resident evil 4 #leon smut #resident evil #smut #resident evil leon

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rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

potential • z. chenle

pairing. zhong chenle x fem! reader genre. rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive. word count. 20k (20.079) warnings. alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual activity, sexual innuendos, a heavy make out session or two, use of lyrics from ariana grande and sarah close and masking them as my own words a/n. why do we call it a rich kid chenle au when he's a rich kid irl. anyways for the fact that this was one of the most spontaneous fics ive ever written it sure did take a lot of time to execute. took a lot of inspo for the lifestyle from the sky castle kdrama so if its not accurate dont @ me bc ive never been rich LMAO

playlist. in my head – ariana grande ; successful – ariana grande ; nonsense – sabrina carpenter ; supermodel – måneskin ; that's what i like – bruno mars

You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.

August 28, 2020 – somewhere in the Bali sea, 1:27 AM

The music is loud. The weather is humid.

Wrapping up the summer before your senior year, dancing around in the bar of the cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, one last stop before your 28-day cruise around Southeast Asia is over, the loud music from the bar rings in your ears as you dance around, a glass of expensive Mendis coconut Brandy swirling in your hold. The taste of the alcohol on your tongue burns, not quite used to the burning sensation in your mouth– this is one of the first times you’re drinking, since your parents were always big on prestige and acting classy. Your parents went to sleep, though– excited to explore Benoa tomorrow, to immerse themselves in nature and explore Bali’s temples and heritage. You, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to party– accompanied by none other than your parents’ friend’s son, who grew into the position of your childhood best friend solely because his and your family have always been close, choosing to spend vacations together; a relationship that was mostly fueled by the immediate closeness of you two during the summer breaks and ski trips to Swiss Alps every January.

And while you’re no stranger to pearls, charity events in your parents’ mansion in Hong Kong, golf courses in Miami and fashion shows in Milan, growing up in the world of designer bags and prestigious titles, you feel quite stranded in the middle of the sweaty teenagers, all of them with the same social status as you, drinking expensive alcohol and swinging your hips to the EDM music playing through the speakers. It almost feels like this is the first time you’re able to enjoy yourself without anyone’s supervision, screaming at the top of your lungs into Zhong Chenle’s face as he laughs at you on the dance floor, and truth be told, you could care less about the pictures you’re going to take for your Instagram tomorrow, showing everyone just how good you’re doing and how much fun you’re having on your lengthy cruises around the continent, because somehow, even though the bar is clothed in gold and you feel a bit like in The great Gatsby, this feels like the least pressuring part of the whole trip.

“We should go to parties more often!” you scream into Chenle’s ear, taking a sip of your Brandy as you twirl yourself around him, the straps of your sparkly spaghetti-strap tiny top falling off your shoulders in a moment of carelessness, your thoughts somewhere completely else. You may be 19 years old and insanely wealthy, but that still doesn’t mean you are experienced in the art of partying– quite the opposite, actually, having to always seem cultivated and presenting yourself in a way that would suggest that your family is high on prestige and recognition– so to finally be surrounded by people your age, dancing along to the music and jumping up as you all chant the lyrics to Barbie girl by Aqua (how ironic) feels quite ecstatic.

“Like our parents would let us,” Chenle rolls his eyes, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear as he makes sure to get close enough for you to hear him.

Sighing at his argument– knowing he’s absolutely right, but also hating the fact that he had to ruin your mood by stating it out loud– you shake your head as you down the last bits of your drink, putting the heavy glass onto the tray of a waiter that’s passing by to gather the rest of the empty ones scattered across the shiny tables in the corner of the room. Your brain is starting to get a little fuzzy and you can’t help the giggling escaping out of your throat whenever your eyes meet Chenle’s, the flush on the boy’s cheeks hinting at the fact that he’s not any better at handling his alcohol than you, having just as much experience in heavy drinking and partying as you do.

You’re only 19 years old and you don’t know a lot about the world. After all, you were brought up in a family that always did everything for you– you never had to move a single finger. You never even had to clean your room, because your parents had people that would come by every morning while you were in school, just so you could arrive home to a tidy place when you were done with your lectures. You went to a private school, so you were always surrounded by people with a status similar to yours. You spoke about your tutoring classes that cost more than groceries for a middle-class family a week, you talked about your trips abroad, and if you had time, you even went shopping with your classmates after school before your driver picked you up and drove you back into the suburbs; your neighborhood guarded by a gate, the asphalt behind it so much smoother than it is in the rest of the town.

You never got to experience partying like this– only gaping with an open mouth when you saw those scenes in the movies you watched on Netflix in your own private movie room. And if you’re being totally honest, you never imagined enjoying such a thing. You never had the experience, so you didn’t really yearn for it, but now that you’re here, surrounded by loud music, experiencing the weird emotional feeling that comes with being in a crowd screaming in joy at the same time first-hand on your own skin, you don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how you were before.

This is not how rich kids party. At least not when their parents are around.

“You’re gonna be hungover tomorrow morning,” Chenle mutters into your ear when your eyes light up at the sight of more alcohol, contemplating on getting another drink, just because.

“And you’re not?” you tease him, pointing to his glossy eyes and lazy walk, his legs tangling with each other every few seconds from the haze he’s been put in just by having a few drinks. The sight is quite funny– the ever-so composed millionaire son is now a troubled mess in your eyes; one wrong step and he could ruin the image his family has spent years to build up, but it doesn’t seem like either of you care, tripping over your feet and lounging at each other in the middle of the dance floor.

Feeling like you’re playing a dangerous game, hanging off his neck and swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat, you gape into his blown-out eyes and desperately try to get your brain straight. The more you drank and the more you spent time in Chenle’s close proximity, the less you were able to control your emotions and the weird thoughts in your brain that have been slowly eating up all your notions for quite some time now. Gaping at his plump lips and feeling his palms burning at your hips, his fingers ever-so-slightly hovering above the curve of your ass, you’re finding it hard to concentrate on the music or on the words spilling off his tongue, his voice never shutting up even in the loud bar. You always told him he talks too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind– he seems to actually take much pride in his annoying tendencies, talking your ear off on multiple occasions even when you tell him he should probably stay quiet for at least a minute, so your brain could recharge.

Truth be told, you listen to him most of the time anyway. He always talks and you always listen, rolling your eyes at the snarky parts and giggling at the jokes; so the fact that you suddenly can’t focus and just desperately want him to shut the fuck up must be the effect of all the alcohol you’ve been drinking tonight.

And your next step might as well be the main consequence of the coconut Brandy as well– because even though you’ve been dreaming of his plump lips on yours for quite some time now, you’ve never actually dared to act up on the desire. But your intention to make him go quiet seems to be working when the train of words stammering out of his mouth is cut off, a surprised noise trailing out of his throat when you kiss him on the dance floor; and to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to mind your weird sign of protest to his endless talking– quite the opposite, really, as he lets you take the lead and taste the mix of alcohol in the Long Island cocktails he’s been drinking the whole night off his tongue, your hands mindlessly trailing up to thread themselves into his hair.

This is not your first time kissing a boy– you once pecked Song Eunseok on the lips when the two of you sneaked out of class one day in 9th grade– but you never once kissed anyone with such passion and desire before. You’re not sure where you got all the courage from and you’re also not sure where you learned all of this– but it must be working, with how heavily Chenle’s breathing when you finally let go of his lips and he rests his forehead against yours. In no time, he’s chasing you down again, drunk not only on the alcohol now as he tilts his head to get closer, one hand resting on the side of your neck, just a few inches below your jaw, keeping you in place.

“You should learn how to shut up,” you mumble against his lips, breathing heavy as you break away from him again and open your eyes to meet your gaze with his. The music is still loud in your ears, but you swear you hear a static noise somewhere in your brain, a tingle in your fingertips making you feel like you’re about to have an out-of-body experience. Your drunken brain is not allowing you to ponder about your actions that much, not letting you think and contemplate the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend on one of the most expensive cruise ships, drinking alcohol you weren’t supposed to spend so much money on, and maybe that’s a good thing– because there’s nothing stopping you in having the time of your life, no overthinking making you doubt your next steps and no feeling of shame or regret making the whole experience bitter as you dance pressed against your companion, letting him press short, yet daring kisses to your lips as time passes.

“I think I’m good,” he snickers, when the music suddenly cuts out, an announcer telling you that the bar closes at 2 AM and that this song is the last for the night.

Sighing in disappointment– because who even knows when the next time you’ll have this opportunity will come– you let Chenle lead you out of the bar, his hand glued around your exposed waist. Your walk is a little loop-sided and you two almost smash into the glass door (doesn’t matter that it’s automatic and it quite literally opened in front of your figures). Soon enough, you’re met with the golden interior of the cruise walls again, the design a little vintage, yet still luxurious, reminding you of the movie Titanic. Tripping over the doorsteps, hands getting caught on the red, velvety curtains hung around, you giggle at every word that comes out of Chenle’s mouth, bodies slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to your suite bedrooms. You’re quite sure your parents could hear you talking outside in the hall, but you choose to not ponder on what they would think of you if they saw you in this state too much, instead making yourself believe that they’re long asleep and won’t be woken up by your voices resonating through the quiet space.

“So I guess this is where we say goodnight?” you mumble, hanging off Chenle’s neck. His breath smells of the vodka-tequila mix when he hovers over you, bodies off-balance pressed against the cold wall just outside of your bedroom. Flashing you a grin, face looking close to a cheshire cat, he nudges your nose with his, a quiet hum landing to your ear, not heard by anyone.

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

Squirming under his touch, his lips softly, yet still a little uncoordinatedly landing on yours, you waste no time in unlocking the door to your room– even though you have a bit of trouble with finding the key in your small purse, even surprised you haven’t lost the bag somewhere in the middle of the night– letting your childhood friend in to your space at the suggestion, your clothed bodies falling to the soft cushions of the water bed.

You’re only 19 and don’t know much about the world when you messily undress yourself under your friend’s eyes, blinded by the glints in his deep chocolate orbs when he looks at you from above and attacks your neck with kisses. And you usually don’t regret much, considering yourself a responsible individual, always rethinking everything and making sure it’s the right choice, but when you look back at this day now, you don’t really know if sleeping with Zhong Chenle on a cruise around Southeast Asia was the brightest idea of yours, considering the mental turmoil it’s gonna cause you on the way.

Well, at least you can say you lost your virginity somewhere in the middle of the Bali sea, and at least that’s something to boost your ego with, am I right…?

July 12, 2007 – Tokyo DisneySea, 2:21 PM

If anyone asked you for your favorite childhood memory, you wouldn’t have a hard time picking one. Sure, one would think you have too many pleasant memories to choose from, so realistically, you should take more time to pick and weigh the value of each one, contemplating if the trip to Rome was a happier memory than the summer you spent in Los Angeles when you were 10, but you are 100%, completely in tune with the fact that if anyone ever asked you this very question, the words falling off their tongue with interest and enthusiasm, no judgment and no hidden intentions behind their question, you’d have an answer ready with a smile on your face.

You don’t hold much emotion to your past memories. You’ve been on more vacations than you can both count and remember growing up, and so even though you do think the pictures you took in Italy came out good and your skin glistens prettily in the warm sun, even though you do think you experienced a lot of fun while going to the Target for the first time with your nanny– the woman your mum hired just because your parents were too busy with their business meetings the whole time you walked the streets of Los Angeles with the new woman you were supposed to trust with your life at the ripe age of 10– you wouldn’t say any of those memories are as close to your heart as the trip you took to Japan with the Zhong family when you were 6, the summer before attending first grade.

This was the year you and Chenle watched the Pirates of the Caribbean together for the first time, and even though it wasn’t in the initial plan, you two spent hours and hours and hours of the flight persuading your parents to take you to Tokyo Disneyland, because you heard from his cousin Yizhuo that you could meet Jack Sparrow if you went. While your plan didn’t exactly work and the two of you didn’t get to go to the large theme park– because your parents were busy, mostly traveling because of business and so they didn’t have the time to arrange it, the amount of sulking you two did when you arrived to the rented house in the expensive part of Tokyo to the teenager that was supposed to watch you two for the time being was enough for him to take you two on a short train ride to the twin of the famous theme park– the Tokyo DisneySea.

The 15-minute train ride you three took to the theme park was your first, and also last time you ever rode such a mean of transport. All you were used to were expensive sports cars and limousines– you never imagined that people took such transport even every single day, at times. You and Chenle were so immersed in the journey that it was hard for your babysitter to get you out of the train, your small, excited bodies almost tripping over your own little feet as the raven-haired boy dragged you through the streets of Maihama station.

You could see the towers of the park and you could smell the salt from the sea even from a distance. The whole atmosphere felt magical, giggles often erupting out of your throat as Yuta– the boy your parents hired to watch over you for the day– bought a bubble blower from one of the stands and blew out bubbles you two chased around and tried to pop before they got to the ground. There were no expensive cars in sight, no people dressed in suits and designer shoes– well, except from the two of you, but you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of how much your attire cost at that age yet– and you felt truly, insanely happy. The adults that always watched you when your parents went to business meetings were stern and serious, never letting you have much fun, but today was different, and you find yourself wondering why your parents even let you be babysat by a reckless teenager in the first place. He was 16 at the time– 10 years older than the both of you– and when you look back at the day now, you think it was the time pressure that brought your parents into hiring him. You bet they paid him a lot of money, hell, you bet they even lended him a credit card he could use to entertain you two for the whole afternoon, and even though you found him using it a few times, you didn’t think he spent just as much as all your previous babysitters did.

Not that you knew the value of money back then, after all. Maybe the fact that you couldn’t tell how much money everything was worth back then is what truly made the whole day so carefree and happy for you.

You were children of wealthy Chinese business owners. You always had everything they saw in your eyes– you didn’t even have to say it out loud and it was held up to you on a silver platter. This day, though, you didn’t even have to use that much money– if you truly compare it to other vacations your families have been to– and you can’t help but think it’s ironic how despite this fact, this day is still your favorite childhood memory.

The Tokyo DisneySea was catered to a more mature audience– even serving alcohol in the premises, a thing no other Disneyland does– but even though you were just 6 and couldn’t drink and there was no Jack Sparrow waiting for you in the streets of the theme park, you and Chenle had a blast. Maybe it was a good decision on Yuta’s part to take you to the DisneySea instead; it catered to your Pirates of the Caribbean needs perfectly despite it not being the initial theme. The ships and wooden coasts and harbors were enough for your imagination to create stories about pirates in your head, the three of you attending various rides and screaming at the top of your lungs together over the course of the afternoon.

“Wanna go to the Tower of Terror?” Yuta asked you, his toothy grin on full display as he dragged you two to the scary ride when you finally got to the American Waterfront.

The teenager was wearing a black muscle top with L’arc en ciel written on it– you found out only a few years later that it was a japanese rock band– and with his long, black hair falling to his forehead, he looked just like the person that would enjoy scary rides and horror movies. You, however– you weren’t prepared to get scared by green ghosts and eerie music. Not at 6 years old anyways, although you doubt you’d do better on this day.

If there’s one thing you need to know about Zhong Chenle, it’s the fact that he’s a lover of horror. And Korean dramas. But mostly horror– a few years later, when you were both the age Nakamoto Yuta was when he brought you to the Tokyo DisneySea, your friend came to a Halloween party dressed like the clown from IT and managed to jump-scare you every moment he physically got. There was no surprise in the small boy liking the idea of attending the scary ride, and no matter how hard you tried and protested, there was no use in you saying no. Because the two of them wanted to go, and you, quoting Yuta, ‘couldn’t just stay alone outside’, so you were pretty much forced into the darkness of the Tower of Terror, your small body pressed against Chenle and Yuta’s– you refused to sit anywhere but sandwiched between the two in the middle of the cart– shutting your eyes close when the scary music started playing and you could feel the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

You trembled the whole time, panic resting in your beating heart, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself clinging to Chenle’s small hand, squishing it so hard he screamed at you in the dim lightning of the ride. You didn’t let go, though– that’s what he gets for dragging you along– fracturing his bones wasn’t in your concerns, if it made you feel more secure and safe.

The fond memory of the day ends with the moment the scary ride is over and you finally get out of the darkness– with Yuta having to carry your out of terror half-paralyzed body from the cart. To this day, you still don’t have a clear outlook on why this day is your favorite childhood memory, but you think it might be the mix of Chenle’s excited laughter as he scared you every two seconds after the ride, the apologetic hug he enveloped you in after you almost burst to tears the third time, the taste of the sausage Yuta bought you two for dinner, the taxi ride to the rented house you had to take in a rush before your parents got back from their business meeting, and the melodic voice of your best friend when he sang you the opening theme to the Pirates of the Caribbean before you two fell asleep on the same bed in your hotel room.

Either way, despite the terror, you don’t think you’ve ever had this much fun ever again.

When you peed the bed that night, your parents decided to never hire a teenager to look after the two of you again. From that moment alone, there was less horror, but also less fun.

May 5, 2019 – tennis courts in Jinqiao, Shanghai, 4:17 PM

One would think that growing up with Zhong Chenle would put him into a position of your almost-brother. And while you did agree with the statement on most days– like when he laughed so hard that snot came out of his nose and almost fell into your lunch plate when you were 15, or when he shot you with his paintball gun so hard you had a bruise on your knee for three weeks when you were 17– you think you’re starting to slowly outgrow this phase.

Zhong Chenle is no longer a brotherly figure to you when you two pick up tennis at the ripe age of 18.

It wasn’t either of your ideas, of course. Tennis is not a sport a teenager just suddenly picks up one day because they’re interested– at least not when you’re incredibly wealthy and can pretty much afford any other hobby in the entire world. No, it was the idea of Chenle’s mother– because, quoting, ‘the kids barely go out these days, they might as well pick up a sport!’ – and with the copycat tendencies of your dear mum, you were dragged along into it as well. And so now, during the finals season, on top of that, you two have to go play tennis on one of the private tennis courts your families rent for three hours a day every Friday afternoon instead of studying or focusing on getting your stress out of your body doing other, much more enjoyable things.

“You know, you look a little too excited for someone who hates playing tennis,” Renjun– the neighborhood kid (your parents being business partners for quite some time now made you and the short boy become friends somewhere along the way)– states, snickering as he lays on one of the benches on the side, his own tennis racket thrown carelessly on the ground as he watches the two of you running around the court, playing.

“I only do it because I’m bored,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sending the little yellow ball over the net with much force, making you run to the other side of the court.

“And I only do it because I need to prove to him that he’s not the best at everything he tries,” you add, sending the ball back to your friend.

“Just say you want to impress him and go,” Yizhuo– Chenle’s cousin from his mother’s side– teases you from the bench, sitting next to Renjun. Her remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you send the yellow ball her way after her cousin passes it towards your side of the court again, aiming precisely for her forehead but missing, earning yourself a terrified yelp out of the girl when she scootches closer to the boy next to her.

“That’s totally not what’s going on, but sure,” you roll your eyes at her when she throws the ball back, but you don’t feel interested in continuing the game anymore. Tiredly walking closer to the two sitting at the little shaded bench, wiping the sweat off your forehead, you try hard to not think of the snarky remark that was sent your way.

Is it really that obvious? Because sure, you’ve always found Zhong Chenle to be your brother figure over the years of growing up– but there’s something about the humid air of the tennis court and his competitiveness that have you eyeing him when he takes a sip from his water bottle or when he adjusts the hairband sitting on his damp forehead. He wears shorts that reveal his calves very nicely, and when you play 2 on 2, you find yourself focusing less and less on the game– earning yourself a frustrated yell from Ning Yizhuo herself as she plays along your side– and more and more on the Gucci tennis shoes adorning his feet as you scan the boy up and down, his figure growing taller and taller each passing day captivating you in a sense you’ve never quite experienced before.

“I can’t believe my mum dragged you all into this shit,” Chenle giggles when he sits next to Renjun on the bench, following you to the shade. There’s only 20 minutes left in the time your parents rented the court for and you figure that you can spend that time recharging your energy instead of playing the boring game.

“Not me,” Yizhuo says, “she made my mother feel bad about not signing me up for any sports. You know, your mum’s pretty persuasive, especially when it comes to looking good in front of everyone. If it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be doing this shit,” she complains, shrugging as she adjusts her ponytail that’s always sitting neatly on the crown of her head.

“I love the fact that Renjun here is the least athletic out of all of us, but he is the only one here willingly,” you snicker, earning yourself a chant of amused laughs at the spoken truth. Now, nobody forced Huang Renjun to come play tennis with you every Friday– but the fact that he doesn’t have many friends in the neighborhood was what made him come along, too bored on his own and with nothing to put his attention to. He doesn’t like playing much, but everything’s better than sitting alone at home, am I right?

The three of you gossip about everything and nothing– the new family in the neighborhood, especially, because Renjun saw their son last Sunday and found his outfit absolutely atrocious (“You’d think people with money would at least know how to dress well, but no. That’s not the case with that Wen Junhui guy.”). The time passes by quickly, and when the timer on Chenle’s phone goes off, signaling that the three mandatory hours at the tennis court are finally over, you all stand up and walk over to the gate, shoes dragging along the sandy surface of the ground with much tiredness. At least you’re getting some cardio in…

“Is your driver coming to pick you up?” Chenle asks as you pay goodbye to your friends, both of them getting into expensive cars waiting for them at the parking lot. Turning to him, you hum in agreement, suddenly shy under his gaze. It’s not even summer yet, but the May sun is already harsh on the skin, getting redness to spread along his cheeks, only further sculpting his handsome bone structure you’ve grown so familiar with over the years.

“What about you?”

“Told my mum I’ll walk home instead. It’s not like it’s only a 20 minute walk anyway,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at the irony of you having to drive home despite living only a few meters away from him, in the same wealthy neighborhood. You grew up together, in the same mowed lawns, in the same green labyrinths of your families’ villas, in the same high ceilings and golden accents on the interior of your houses. After watching him from the corner of your eye, you start to wonder about what changed between the two of you that made you so weak to him now, that you’re both 18. Did he change? Was it the fact that you were now both adults? You don’t think that’s the case– because even though you were 18, there were no more responsibilities waiting for you than they were the years before.

“My driver can take you,” you say, kicking the rocks below your feet, “well, unless you want to walk home alone instead,” you add, noting his previous sentence.

You see him take a sip out of his water bottle, shrugging at your suggestion. Chenle’s not a fan of inefficiency, no matter the fact that you can afford anything you could ever want. It’s a quality of him you find quite strange some days, but you don’t ponder on it too much.

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And after replaying all the memories you have with the boy in your head, you think that your 18 year old self isn’t so stupid for falling for him. See– you’ve got to know a lot of men over the course of your life. Many tried to get with you barely before you even grew into an adult, seeing the vision of money and the social status you could give them. Some, on the other hand, never gave you back the attention you were giving them. All relationships you had in your life were blinded by the imaginary price tag you always carried around with yourself, and so everything always stayed surface-level and plain. No wonder you fell for Chenle– no matter how long it took you to get to this part of your friendship– he’s the only one that ever showed you his true self, he’s the only one that ever trusted you enough to go deeper in conversations with you and treated you like a real human being. You know him well and he knows you well; he’s like a book you always find yourself rereading, excited to find that your favorite characters always stayed the same. At the end of the day, you think you were always meant to fall for Chenle.

Standing under the blazing sun, you wait for your driver to get to the tennis courts. You wait for 10 minutes, then 15– and when you get a little too overheated, Chenle offers you his water bottle and mumbles something about being on time. When the time passes 45 minutes after your driver’s supposed arrival, your friend turns to you with a glint in his eye, a grin sitting on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

And the truth is, you don’t find yourself disagreeing. And you also don’t find yourself hating the walk up the hills of the neighborhood– no matter how tiring it was to your already exhausted limbs– and you don’t find yourself complaining about the lack of AC or the vehicle driving your ass home to your, admittedly, too big of a house. Chenle entertains you with his talks– because he always talks too much for his own good– and when you stop paying attention to him and lose track of where you’re going, he drags you back to the sidewalk by your hand and your fingers stay interlocked when he teases you about the fact that you almost got ran over by a white Cadillac.

“Listen, there’s this song I think you’ll like,” he hums when you’re 5 minutes away from your house, pulling out his phone out of his back pocket and opening up the Spotify app. He plays you a song by Ariana Grande, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. His voice goes thin when he tries to mimic the singer’s voice, dragging along the english sentences of ‘it feels so good to be this young and have this fun and be successful, i’m so successful!’, irony seeping from his tone. Your hands are still intertwined as he swings them back and forth and you don’t even really care about the subtle implication of the lyrics he’s singing– because it’s Chenle, and despite being just as wealthy as you, he’s no stranger to calling you a snob.

When you’re 18 and walking back from your weekly tennis endeavors, you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your heart when your friend twirls you around in your driveway, your white tennis skirt childishly fulfilling your unsaid dreams of becoming a ballerina, before he walks to his house standing on the opposite side of the road.

You don’t even care that your poor driver got fired by your mother right after she realized he forgot to pick you up from the tennis court as much.

October 17, 2020 – a charity evening, Shanghai, 9:11 PM

Your whole life so far has been guided in the aura of money. When you were little, you didn’t realize it as much– your young, undeveloped brain couldn’t phantom the fact that your annual trips to Italy and summer vacations at yachts and in the Paris DisneyLand weren’t a normal occurrence to everyone. You couldn’t understand the value of money, and you think that maybe, you never truly will. Because you were born fortunate, never having to worry about a single thing, always living in wealth and with gold around your neck.

The closest you are to understanding just how much money your family truly has is at the charity evenings you are forced to attend. Walking around, mostly bored– because truly, you didn’t have much of an idea just how much money you’re sending to the unfortunate parts of Africa and what the whole thing even has to do with you, when the money wasn’t really yours in the first place– you try to at least look through the flier your family made for the event, reading through the carefully crafted sentences, feeling at least a little sorry for everyone that doesn’t get to live the way you do.

“Isn’t it funny how this is the only way our families can present themselves in a good light?” Chenle mumbles when he reads over your shoulder, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning around to look at your companion, you furrow your brows at his snarky comment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we give to charity so people don’t hate us as much,” Chenle shrugs, taking a sip from the champagne poured in a tall glass you’re pretty sure your mother spent hours and hours picking out when renting this place, just so everything could be perfect.

“It’s just jealousy,” you say as you walk side-by-side with the boy, the expensive fabric of his white button-down hugging his body in all the right places, leaving you light-headed when you let yourself indulge in your thoughts for too long and stare at the curves of his forearms. It’s been a few months since you slept with your childhood friend– and while you must admit that you regretted it a little when you woke up in the morning, with a hangover and sore limbs, you also didn’t regret it as much as to turn the offer down when it was next brought to you. And the next time, and the next…

“You think?” Chenle asks, and his interest in your answer seems genuine.

“Yeah,” you nod, shrugging to yourself, “we have more money than any of them ever will, so it’s only natural for people to feel jealous and talk spiteful things about us.”

Chenle hums at your answer, licking his lips before he looks you dead in the eye, the smallest glint of irony shining from behind the dark orbs, making you shrink under his gaze. “It’s not like it’s hard work anyway,” Chenle mutters, “if it wasn’t all stolen money, at least the charity work wouldn’t feel as fake.”

You stop in your tracks at the comment, furrowing your brows. “Stolen money?”

The boy next to you snickers at your clueless eyes. It’s no wonder you never really cared about the source of your family’s wealth– you were born to it, so you never had a reason to doubt it. And truth be told, you never really complained either. You don’t think anyone in your place would, really. You just accepted it the way it is, and you never asked any questions. For all you know, your parents are hard working business owners– you bet their money is well deserved for the amount of effort they put in– so to hear that it’s stolen money, from someone who is in a similar position as you, on top of that, you can’t believe your ears.

“I mean, they’re business owners. Let’s not act like both yours and my parents don’t meddle with the taxes at least a bit, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “if I were all those people outside of it, I’d hate myself too.”

His words do little to comfort you. They do quite the opposite, really, and even though Zhong Chenle has no proof to show you of the fact that your parents might have at least a bit of dirty money on their hands, you can’t say you don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’re that gullible– and who is the one lying straight to your eyes now, if it’s your friend or your parents– and you start to believe that you’d trust everything Chenle tells you, because that’s just the relationship you have with him. He could do anything and you’d follow him to the end of the world. It takes years to build that bond, and so even know, although you have the urge to scream at him for talking such things about the ones that brought you to this world– this perfect, shiny world– you find yourself holding back, the bubble around you bursting in a second, although you spent 19 years of your life living in the fake glory and bejeweled experience. Opening your mouth to ask him more about the matter– to get yourself out of the confusion you’ve been put in with just a few sentences uttered out of his always too-honest mouth, you turn to the boy when a man with a camera approaches the two of you, asking to take a picture of you.

And you comply, because what else are you supposed to do? This is how you’ve been raised. You smile for the pictures, you grin when you find yourself in the magazines, you nod when people recognise your name, you greet people with a polite nod, because you never know when someone wants to make business with your parents and you wouldn’t want to ruin good opportunities for them, would you?

With Chenle’s arm around your waist, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, you smile for yet another picture for the portfolio. Sometimes you feel like a princess– with everything it takes; both the royal responsibilities and the special treatment. More often than not, you find yourself enjoying the spotlight.

“Now they have proof that we were here,” Chenle mumbles into your ear, his lips gently brushing the smooth skin, “wanna get out of here? This party doesn’t look as enjoyable as the last one we went to,” the boy references the time you spent together at the cruise ship, with both the screaming on the dancefloor, and also the aftermath in your room, making heat puddle in your cheeks as you swat his hand away before it gets too low on your back in front of everyone in the room.

“I have to give a speech, but… maybe later?” you look at him, innocently batting your eyelashes at him, when the boy shrugs and takes a step back, downing the last drops of champagne from the expensive looking glass.

“I’ll be waiting back home,” Chenle says, “I bet our parents will stay until this all ends, so we have plenty of time for ourselves when you decide you’re tired of the gala.”

He disappears out of your sight the moment after, putting the empty glass onto a tray of one of the waiters carefully walking across the room, his back escaping out the front door. If you squint hard enough through the glass, you could see him getting into one of the sports cars he got from his parents for his 18th birthday– the vehicle driving off in the hands of his driver for the night, since he just had a glass of alcohol– and leaving you alone in the world of faux and feathers, fulfilling the responsibilities given to you by your mother. And for the first time– not only because you hate giving public speeches– you so desperately want to follow him, getting out before midnight like Cinderella, never attending another one of these evenings ever again.

You don’t, though. You’re an obedient daughter.

And when you call him up from the entryway a few minutes after midnight, his rough hands welcoming you to his bedroom by undressing the thousand-dollar Tiffany dress you wore to the event– being the aftermath of his previous words or not, you start to think how ironic it is that your attire for the evening cost more than than the monthly rent of the people you were giving to in your speech.

After a while, your words turn bitter.

March 23, 2020 – South Cape Owners Club, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea, 1:17 PM

“Did you really have to choose the most boring thing to do for your birthday?” Chenle mutters under his nose when all of your parents stride forward to get another hole in one, beads of sweat appearing on your foreheads as you stand directly under the midday sun.

“This wasn’t my idea, okay?” Renjun huffs, carrying his golf equipment with him, the silly-looking golf gloves tugged right off his hands when his parents are no longer in sight. “All I wanted was to visit my grandma, but they decided we needed to do something special for my birthday, and when I couldn’t tell them anything I’d like to do, they dragged everyone to play golf.”

“I was thinking more like… clubbing and then crashing at your grandma’s place overnight, but okay…” Yizhuo snickers, watching as all of your parents joyfully talk between themselves, their conversation rarely leaving business matters as they play golf with as much enthusiasm as one can have while focusing on this boring sport. You don’t really know who made this game and why they made it– you can imagine seventy thousand different ways you’d love to spend your afternoon doing instead, more than a half of them supposedly more mundane than the sport itself; but you still know you’d enjoy even sitting down and getting ice cream better than having to pretend you’re interested in, what Chenle called, rich-people-only sport.

“Maybe I can sneak a bottle up into my room later, but I’m not promising anything,” Renjun shrugs, sighing to himself as he takes out his phone from his back pocket and shakes his head at the sight of the time appearing on his screen. You’ve been at the golf course since 10 AM, and with how interested in the game your parents seem to be, you’re not leaving any time soon either.

Not really engaged in the conversation– because Chenle once told you you complain too much (you truly thought he was the one doing so, but you believe pretty much everything that comes out of the man’s mouth, because he’s mostly right about things) and you think you’ve done your fair share of complaining on your way to the golf course in the first place– you look around, trying to find a thing that could occupy your attention instead. Finding anything fun to do while playing golf may just be the hardest thing to do, but when you notice your companion Chenle missing and his figure appears striding towards your small group in a golf cart, the vehicle going full speed (even the barely 40 km/h looks like it could kill when he seems to not give a single damn about running you over), and suddenly, your mind is occupied enough.

Screeching when the golf cart barely misses your figure, you jump to the side and watch Chenle laugh from the driver’s seat. His malicious instincts barely ever leave his body and the operation of a golf cart is seemingly bringing out the worst in him– thank god he barely drives anymore– and you can’t help but laugh at his little stunt when the cart comes to a sharp halt and he waves you three over with a motion of his hand.

“Hop on, motherfuckers, we have places to be!” he says, all of you following his footsteps and jumping into the small vehicle– you in the passenger seat, next to Chenle, and Renjun and Yizhuo taking the two seats on the back. Once you’re all in, the engine grunts with the speed Chenle’s intending to get to in the weak thing, the atmosphere shifts into one with much more fun and adrenaline– because you know you’re not supposed to ride the carts (not this fast anyway) and when your parents find out, you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. No, you’re not going to get grounded– you’re not a kid anymore– but the silent treatment and nagging from them about being well-raised and respectable members of society is enough to leave you scared of their anger for the rest of your lives.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall out!” you scream when Chenle takes a sharp turn, the golf cart almost toppling over on the green grass.

“I got you, don’t worry,” he notes, one of his hands loosely falling to your thigh to keep you in place, your skin heating up even more from his touch now, enjoying the hold but also fearing the eyes of your friends from the backseat. Your earlier terror is quickly erased with another sharp turn the driver takes– having much more things to worry about now, surviving being one of them– and when he zooms past the group of middle-aged people standing a few meters ahead of you, you already know you’re in big trouble.

Now you’re gonna get scolded for abducting a golf cart. When it wasn’t even your idea in the first place.

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

Chenle drives with the cart all over the golf course, the vehicle providing you enough entertainment for the next few minutes until you get tired of the ride. Looking over at him on your side, gaping a little at the view of your childhood friend driving the cart with only one hand, the other one still securely glazing your thigh, you almost choke out with how attractive the strange sight is to your eyes. Forcing yourself to focus on the road– and thank god, because if you didn’t hold to the side of the cart now, you’d surely fall out despite Chenle’s reassuring words and his hold on your leg– when the man cuts through a small hill in the golf course, the vehicle jumping up and falling back down making you scream in terror mixed with just a bit of excitement.

“Fucking hell, at least warn us before!” Renjun screams from the back, followed by Yizhuo’s amused laughter. You can only imagine Renjun’s almost fallen out, and even though the mental image looks hilarious, you really don’t need him to get hurt today, because he wouldn’t shut up about it for the next 8 working days. And it’s his birthday, after all– you wouldn’t wanna ruin it by having too much fun.

And so, with a last giggle escaping the boy’s throat, Chenle brings the golf cart to a halt, the vehicle stopping far enough from your parents to not get scolded immediately for making so much ruckus at the golf cart, the four of you enjoying the silence, still recovering from the wild ride. Smiling fondly to yourself and gaping at the boy next to you again, you suddenly grow appreciative of him. If it wasn’t for his wild nature, you would still be sulking somewhere on the golf course, pretending to enjoy living your snobby life alongside your parents. You bet even Renjun himself will find this moment captured in his brain as a core birthday memory, and the more you stare at Chenle’s side profile, the more you want to hold his face in your hands and thank him.

“Ew,” you hear Yizhuo’s voice from behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts. Looking back to see what she’s referring to, you watch her gaze landing on Chenle’s hand playing with the flesh on your thigh, heat suddenly rising to your cheeks in being caught in the exact position you feared a little while ago.

“What–” Chenle snaps his head back at his cousin, while you quickly shrug his palm off your skin, but it’s too late now– you’ve been caught in the act and now you can’t do anything to erase Ning Yizhuo’s memory.

“You know, I thought you two were cousins at first. Like, from your dad’s side, I mean,” Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head in disbelief at the two of you, her comment not doing much to ease the situation either. Chenle seems to be confused at her words, his face scrunching up as he glares at the girl.

“We’re not,” you note, clearing your throat and looking at her with a glare, mentally praying for her to drop the topic.

“Yeah, thank god,” Chenle adds, and you should’ve expected him to make the situation even worse– it’s Zhong Chenle, after all– but his next words shock you and leave you gasping, mentally killing him right here and in this moment, “that would make a lot of things weird.”

“Ew,” Yizhuo repeats, and suddenly, that perks up Renjun’s attention– the boy previously facing the other side of the golf course and not paying you three much care– as he looks around and watches you with confusion in his features.

“What are you talking about?”

“That they are–” the girl takes it upon herself to explain her findings, but she’s quickly cut off by a sound of a middle-aged woman screaming through the place, her small figure striding towards the golf cart.

“Zhong Chenle, what do you think you’re doing?!”

And with that scolding tone, the previous topic is dropped. Thank god.

June 12, 2020 – Zhong Chenle’s room, Shanghai, 11:21 PM

A hand stroking through his hair, smoothing back the bangs and revealing his forehead in the dim blue of the neon light in his room, you lay on your side next to your friend Chenle, a blanket carelessly thrown over your half-naked middles to shield you from the breeze. You hum a song under your breath as you play with his locks, the black disappearing between your fingers like sand, eyes carefully watching his tired expression.

If you thought hard enough, you could see the little boy you first met at your parent’s conference room when you were 3 materialize in front of your eyes. His cheeks were chubby and he was short, waddling behind you almost a head less than your size, and his voice was thin as he asked you for your name. From that moment on, you knew you were supposed to stick together– and while your parents were the first relative to bring you two together, you didn’t mind always being glued to each other’s hips.

When you look closer at him now, it’s hard to see that boy in him. Harder than you expected, if you’re being totally honest. Don’t get me wrong, you can still see in his features– even though his cheekbones are more prominent now and his jaw is more chiseled, lips plumper and his figure built more firmly than when he was a little boy– but there’s something about his demeanor that completely changed over time. He seems less enthusiastic, and while one would think that it’s just him growing into being a more laid-back and relaxed person– he’s not a kid anymore, after all– you think there’s something more to it, you just can’t quite put your finger to it.

Seeing him close his eyes every once in a while, lids falling under the weight of his tiredness and the comfort your gentle strokes through his scalp give him, you feel your heart clench with all the care you’re currently putting into the boy, and all that you’ve been putting into him throughout your growing up. After so many years– after getting so close and intimate with him– you don’t think you’d be able to let the boy go, and just the sheer image of ever losing him or leaving him behind leaves you trembling with anxiety.

And so, despite being afraid of ruining the calm atmosphere that comes after making love to him, you speak up with a weak voice, contrasting to what you’re logically supposed to feel after getting to know the news this morning– just because you have to know.

“Lele?” you mumble, hearing him let out a hum, his voice sounding as if he’s half-asleep, but you know he’s listening to you. “What are your plans… after you graduate?” you ask. The day of graduation is coming faster and faster towards you, the years you’ve spent at high school finally fulfilled after all the effort you put in on your finals.

“Dunno,” he replies, eyes barely opened as his arm that’s been previously laid on the mattress in between your two bodies moves to your hip, fingers drumming over the soft skin, “why?”

“Just wondering…” you speak, voice barely louder than a whisper. The boy stays silent– his eyes once again closing on themselves as you continue to play with his hair. One would think he’s fallen asleep, not awake enough to have this conversation, and you would even believe the fact and let the conversation go, thinking you’d find another time to dwell on this topic, but then, as a surprise, his voice startles you from your deep thoughts when he curiously inquires you, the hand on your hip steadying.

“What about you?”

Taking a deep breath in and out, a smile battling to take over your lips, you lick your lips in the heartbeat that comes before your answer. Swallowing your nerves– because even though you should’ve told him the moment you got the news this morning, you’re somehow stressed out about the action of doing so– you open your mouth and finally break the rules to him.

“I… I got to Yale,” you say, on your toes. The joy and relief you felt this morning when you saw the email appear on your phone screen is daring to creep into the way you speak to Chenle right now, but you’re keeping it in. Not letting yourself scream and shout the accomplishment from the rooftops, you look at the boy, not a change appearing on his face at hearing your announcement. “I got into their business program,” you add anxiously, waiting for him to say something– anything– to your news.

As your friend, he’s supposed to be happy for you, isn’t he? He’s supposed to hug you now and squeeze you and tell you how you’ve done a good job and that he’s proud of you and that he’s cheering you on in your dream. None of it comes, though, as he only hums and nods at your sentences, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at you when you oh so excitedly talk to him about your life goals.

Something inside of you breaks just the tiniest bit, your mood falling as you anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you demand, halting your movements through his raven locks, averting your touch and looking at him curiously.

You watch him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at you with an empty look, licking his lips before humming again and asking you in a tone of voice that barely meets interest or excitement. “So you’re gonna be a businesswomen like your mum when you get your degree?” he asks, nodding to himself.

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat. You’re a little confused at his weird stance towards the topic, but you battle out a tight-lipped smile. “I’m hoping for it.”

He hums again, the noise seemingly enough for him to consider it a valid conversation holder, a deadpan: “Good,” leaving his lips after a second, making you furrow your brows in confusion and utter disappointment. This is not the way you imagined the conversation to go– this is not how you wanted it to go at all.

Heaving out a sigh, you tug your arm to yourself, contemplating on speaking up– knowing you’re just gonna make everything worse if you do– but doing so anyway. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I mean, what else is there to say?”

Looking at him in disbelief, your face scrunching up in various different emotions, all mixing into one– disappointment being the dominant feel, you think, you scoff at him. This is not Zhong Chenle as you know him, and sure, he hasn’t been the most overly-excited, cheerful individual these past few months, but you still think you deserve at least a bit of praise for the achievement of getting into one of the hardest universities to get to in the world, no?

“I don’t know, you could… congratulate me, I guess…? Tell me I did a good job, I dunno… would be nice,” you mutter, snickering once more to prove your irritation with the man.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised, taken-aback, even, “well, congrats on the legacy admission, I guess,” he says, nonchalant, as if his words aren’t a dagger to your heart each second that passes, your blood pressure rising as the reality downs on you that he’s being serious and that this is not a sick joke.

“The legacy admission?” you repeat, eyes big and shocked, your whole body moving an inch away from him on the bed without you realizing.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, not a bit caring about breaking you from the inside, the humiliation slowly creeping from the tips of your fingertips to the depths of your soul.

“So you’re saying I went through the whole admission process and put in so much effort only for you to say that I got in because of stupid legacy?” you chirp, gazing at him with sharp eyes, blood boiling from the impact of his words. “What legacy are you even talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a nepo baby,” he snickers, rolling his eyes.

Gasping at his words, baffled at the unexpected reaction, you stand up on the bed and stare at him with sharp eyes. At a loss for words, you stutter a little when you speak up again and utter out the next words, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said I’m not,” he shrugs, “don’t have a problem with admitting I am.”

“So you’re saying I only got to university because of my parents,” you get out, glossy eyes scanning his peaceful figure, “so you’re saying I’m not smart enough to get into Yale?”

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

“You only hear what you want to hear,” Chenle sighs, as if he was tired of your antics, which only makes you more furious at the whole interaction.

“No, Chenle–” you stutter, his name rolling off your tongue as if it was meant to stop him with hurting you even more for discrediting your efforts, yet, you can’t find any more words to say to him as you stare at this limb body laying on the soft mattress of his king sized bed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Standing up from the bed and scattering around the room for your clothes, ignoring the way putting them on in front of him makes you feel like you’ve been stripped away from all your dignity, you hurriedly come to the door of his bedroom, almost forgetting your phone that you gather on your way out from the messy desk in the right corner of the room.

“Where are you going?” he asks monotonously, watching you move through the place.

“Home,” you bark out, running your hand through your hair as you walk back to the door, ignoring the hot tears pricking your eyes at the feeling of your whole entire world collapsing in on you when he mourns from the bed.

“Don’t be mad, it’s not like I said anything bad…”

“Goodnight,” you snap, not bothering to look back at him as you escape his house in the middle of the night, running through the street to your house much earlier than you anticipated, wiping at your cheeks with angry palms.

This is the first time he disappointed you, and you can’t tell if that felt worse, or if it was the excitement slowly and painfully stripping off your bones, making you feel like you’re running around without your flesh, completely see-through for everyone around.

June 27, 2020 – IFC Mall, Shanghai, 4:33 PM

“Do you think this makes my ass look extra hot?” Yizhuo asks, gaze shifting from you to Chenle to Renjun, the four of you currently in one of the designer shops at the mall. Leaning on the wall, arms crossed on your chest and chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug, not a word escaping your mouth.

“I’m your cousin, I’m not looking at your ass like that,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sighing as he takes a seat on one of the expensive looking sofas situated in the changing room, resting his head against the neck rest and closing his eyes in what seems to be tiredness or annoyance– either of, or both mixed in, equal parts.

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

“It does look super hot, Yizhuo, now can you–”

“So you are staring at my butt!” Yizhuo excitedly yelps, pointing a sharp finger towards Renjun, a bright grin settling onto her lips when the accused boy stutters, cheeks reddening at her comment.

“You literally asked us to, for fuck’s sake!”

“You could’ve refused, just like Chenle did,” she shrugs, smiling to herself in victory. If anyone was listening to your conversation right now, they would surely have a lot of questions you wouldn’t be able to respond to. Hell, even you’re confused half of the time you hang out with Ning Yizhuo– what the hell is going on in her head?

“He’s your family, of course he refused,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his hair in despair.

“Whatever you say, Renjunie,” she chirps, closing the curtain behind her and changing back into the pants she wore when she got to the store in one swift motion, leaving the boy puzzled with her next words as she walks up to the counter, “I’m only buying those because you think I look super hot in them, just so you know.”

Paying for her things and escaping the store, the rest of you tagging along, you notice the boy aimlessly trying to forget about the whole situation, and his prayers were listened to, after all, since Yizhuo seems to drop the topic after teasing him so much, turning to you instead. Walking alongside with you, leaving the two boys a few steps ahead, she nudges you with her elbow, raising up her brow in question.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t even tried anything on,” she notes, “and we both know you’ve been eyeing that new LV collection, so there must be something bothering you.”

Sighing, hating that the girl knows you so well– that, or you’re being awfully obvious– you roll your eyes in annoyance and try to shrug the topic off. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie. Is it something with Chenle? You two are usually all over each other, so–”

“It’s not about Chenle,” you snap, cutting the poor girl off, “so drop it.”

“Did he say something stupid? I know my cousin, come on. I can slap some sense into him, sweetheart, just let me know–”

“Please let it be,” you insist, tone of voice almost a little too sharp for your own liking, but it seemingly does its job as your friend only shrugs and takes a sip out of the coffee you all bought when getting to the mall, catching up to the men a few steps in front of you, talking about basketball.

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about it, you know where to find me,” she says, and joins the discourse with her cousin and the boy she’s been teasing for whatever reason for the last few weeks instead, leaving you to trail behind them like a lost puppy, deep in your thoughts.

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Chenle. He tried reaching out to you a few times, sending you texts to ask what you’re doing that day to see if you wanna hang out. It seemed that at first, he didn’t really understand that he upset you. After you continued to ignore him even on graduation day, only greeting him and sparing him a few words, he seemed to get the memo as he let you deal with your emotions by yourself instead. You were never given an apology– and truthfully, knowing Chenle, you didn’t even expect to get one in the first place. But still, it’s been bugging you and you couldn’t get his words out of your brain, because you know you can’t do anything about them– if this is the image he has of you, the opinion he created, you don’t think you can talk it out with him in the first place.

“Everything okay back there?” Chenle asks, looking behind at you. His eyes are big and honest, and you find yourself nodding to his caring question. Sparing him a word seems like too much effort right now, and so when he offers you a tight-lipped smile, you don’t have enough energy to reciprocate it.

“Princess Yizhuo here has sore feet, so we are calling it a day. You wanted anything from the mall? I can stay behind with you and go get it,” he continues, his words jabbing into you only reminding you more of the days you spent ignoring him. Realistically, he should be mad at you for it– maybe you even wanted that to happen so he would ignore you instead, giving you the silent treatment, but this is your childhood friend Zhong Chenle we’re talking about. He talks too much in situations where he should shut up instead, and that’s exactly what’s happening in this very moment as well.

“I’m good,” you note, shrugging as you throw the empty coffee cup into one of the bins on your way, your small group now escaping the mall and getting to the parking lot.

Walking towards Chenle’s Zenvo TS1 parked in the corner of the parking lot, you hear the chatter of the group resonating in your ears, not really engaging in the conversation yourself, but choosing to listen to feel included anyway. It’s not their fault that you’re not in the mood, and frankly, you’re glad they even invited you to the outing in the first place. Everything’s better than being left out in your books, even if it means forcing yourself into social interaction.

“My driver should be here any minute,” Yizhuo smiles, waving at Renjun currently getting into his Porsche Cayenne that he got after you all arrived from his birthday trip to Korea. Watching the boy drive off– while listening to Chenle bitching about his driving (he does have a point though, the poor boy almost crashed into a pole on his way out) – you feel a nudge to your elbow, making you turn to your friend.

“Wanna get back with me, neighbor?” he asks, eyebrows raised in question.

In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before answering. But now, you ponder on the question for a bit– you got to the mall with Yizhuo, having hanged out with her at her place before– but now that she’s getting a drive home, there was no use in you tagging along with her, since you live quite far from her house. Getting a drive home from Chenle is the most logical solution, after all, and that’s why you find yourself nodding.

Jumping to the passenger’s seat, waving at Yizhuo still waiting for her driver to get there– it should take only about 5 more minutes, with the speed her driver can get to when called– you silently gaze out of the window on your way back, not sparing the boy next to you a glance. He seems to not mind, carefully taking turns and waiting at the stop signs and red lights on his way to your neighborhood, humming along under his breath to the songs on the radio instead to fill the silence. You spend the ride chewing on your cheek, nerves eating you up from inside just at the sheer fact of being in his close proximity again, yet still being so painfully hurt at the feelings he expressed the last time you hung out one-on-one.

His car smoothly gets to the parts of the town that feel more rich– houses growing bigger in size, the gates taller in the sky and the lawns mowed more carefully, with more fancy bushes in the yards and pure-blood dogs running around in front of the gates. After a few minutes, your neighborhood appears in front of your eyes, his car driving past your house and into the Zhong property instead, making you furrow your brows in confusion and annoyance.

“You could’ve just stopped in front of my house so I could get out, you know,” you hum, sighing when he turns the engine off.

“I was thinking we could hang out over at ours for a sec,” he shrugs, turning his face to you with a hopeful glint in his eye, which you dismiss with an annoyed huff and a roll of your eyes, reaching towards the door handle to get out and walk over to your house instead.

“Come on, Y/N,” he calls for you, “are you still mad?”

“No,” you snicker, shrugging as you move towards the front gates, his figure quickly catching up to you as he grabs your wrist, halting you in your movements.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it out to you?” he mumbles, looking at you with eyes big and deep like honey, and suddenly, you’re a putty under his touch– just like always, you cave in– as you sigh, following him inside. You don’t miss the victorious pep in his step as he leads you inside, his hand still in contact with your arm, only letting go when you get to his room and he leads you to sit on his bed.

“Wanna play something?” he asks, thrusting a PS5 controller into your hands, not really leaving you much room for disapproval. Grunting and rolling your eyes at him, you watch as he opens up It takes two, your characters running around the split screen trying to figure out the way around.

The silence between the two of you is cruciating, suffocating, even, as neither of you have enough courage to open up the topic again. Tugging at your bottom lip, biting off the dry skin up to the point it bleeds, you sigh and turn to the boy again, putting the controller down. “Is this your way of making it up to me?” you ask.

Cocking his head to you, he shrugs. “I mean, I had a different idea, but that’s up for a discussion…” he mutters, the suggestion of his words making you roll your eyes at him, in disbelief of the fact that he still has the audacity to tease when he knows you’re clearly upset with him.

“Okay, I’m… really sorry, okay?” he says when he registers your mood, sighing to himself and running a hand through his hair. “I kinda fucked up, and I realise that. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re stupid, or anything– come on, I always cheated off you on exams, after all– so, I just- it came off wrong, is what I’m tryna say,” he concludes, looking at you hopefully, his face seemingly in tune with the words coming out of his mouth.

Humming, you shrug, not really knowing what to say. The apology settles a little in you, noting that at least he acknowledged that he fucked up, and so you pick up the controller again and avert your gaze from him. Seeing as his character refuses to move, you look at him from the corner of your eye, raising your brows in question.

“So you forgive me?” he asks, licking his lips in nerves– the action making your eyes travel down to the plump rosiness, involuntarily following his action. His glistening mouth has your gaze wandering around his body, eyes focusing on things you’ve been purposefully ignoring the whole day– the way his forearms show off in his short-sleeved shirt, the way his hair is parted in a way that shows his forehead in the most strangely attractive ways, and also the ever-so casual demeanor of the male. Chuckling to yourself, you shrug, taunting him.

“I dunno,” you mumble, “how can you make it up to me?”

And again, Chenle gets the hint– he’s not stupid, after all.

Slowly lounging himself towards you, making you drop the controller to his sheets, you close your eyes in expectancy of his touch, already so used to the rhythm of his lips against yours. His hand holds your jaw in place, firm kisses pressed to your yearning mouth, you try to remember the way his touch feels– just in case you have to give it up soon again– a selfish action of your body as you thread your fingers through his hair.

Lips ghosting over yours, he snickers against them as he speaks. “You taste of blood,” he notes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking matters into your own hands as you lock yourself to him again, pressing shaky, hurried kisses to his lips.

He finds a better place to attach them to, though, as he gently pushes you towards his mattress into a lying position, traveling towards your jaw and your neck. His touch never stays long enough to leave a mark– at least not in places visible for everyone to see, saving you a lot of explaining to your parents and your friends– but the kisses still leave you breathless and yearning for more, hands traveling down his back and humming in pleasure.

“Missed this,” he speaks against your skin, breathless, “so much.”

“Missed my body or me?” you ask, a hint of bitterness on your tongue.

“A bit of both,” he smirks, gently sucking on the skin of your collarbone, leaving you to squirm under the feathery touch. Hands traveling up under your shirt, his fingers trailing across your belly and the curve of your hip, you’re left shivering under the contrast of the heated atmosphere and his stone-cold hands, giggling when he presses an unusually sweet kiss to your cheek in between the more risky ones.

“And which one did you miss more?” you tease, locking eyes with him as he hovers over your body, plopped up by an arm on either side of your head.

His eyes glimmer as he stares you down, cocking his head to the side. “I miss when you didn’t talk,” he says, leaning down again and taking your breath away with a kiss, a displeased grunt meeting his lips as you disapprove of his snarky comment.

In the sheer second where you two break away for air, his hands undress your top, leaving you under him just in your underwear, a position you two have found yourselves in a number of times before. Still, it leaves you shy away under his hungry eyes, only relaxing again when his raven locks tickle the underside of your jaw, lips attaching to every inch of your now exposed body, not afraid of bruising the skin you always keep covered, out of everyone’s eyes. Sometimes, you yearn for him to plant a lovebite to your jaw, to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, wanting to show them off to everyone and claim the boy as yours– you know you don’t have that power, though, when Zhong Chenle will never be yours and the bruises of desire are always hidden away from everyone, like a dirty little secret; much like what you two have going on in the first place anyway.

“You know,” he mutters against your skin, in between the kisses that have now grown lazier, “I was starting to get a little crazy when you ignored me. That was a first,” he says.

Snickering, hands once again finding their place in his locks, you shrug. “Was the first time you deserved it.”

“Does my opinion really matter to you that much?” he asks, chuckling as he presses another kiss to your skin, to a place a few inches below your collarbone.

“We’ve been friends forever,” you say, “‘course it does.”

“Well, then you should’ve known that as your friend,” he huffs, lips pressed against your skin, “‘m not looking down on you.”

Humming, you let him work his magic as his lazy kisses inch closer to the fabric of your bra, his other hand playing with the fabric of it, twirling the little bow in between your breasts in his fingers as he leans on one of his plopped-up hands, looking at you from the side.

“Guess I was just more curious about what you wanted to do after school, y’know,” you say, the conversation flowing despite his hands all over you, “before you called me a nepo baby, of course.”

He chuckles at your remark, rolling his eyes at you as his finger trails up your side, your skin growing goosebumps under his touch. “Dunno yet. Why do you care?”

“Wanted to see how far we’re gonna be,” you say, the moment suddenly growing more intimate. The relationship you two have was never inclusive– you two had sex sometimes, sure, but you never once told each other this was more than that. You two were just mere fuck buddies, childhood friends that found sexual attraction in each other somewhere along the way, and while that was enough for you for a while, you found yourself growing anxious of the fact that he was never going to be fully yours. And with the growing anxiety– the smallest remainder of your worries that overtake you in the middle of the night sometimes– your throat closes up on itself when you choke out the next words. “Wanted to see how much time we have left together.”

His hand settles on your hip, his eyes bearing into yours with a newly found heaviness in them. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips in nerves before speaking up. “Well, I’ll always be your neighbor, so you can find me when you come back. Unless we move, y’know…” he jokes, an airy laugh coming out his lungs that doesn’t meet the expected intention of easing the situation.

You chuckle– but there’s not a hint of lightheartedness in the gesture, quite the opposite, really– as you avert your gaze from him, your head lollying to the side when you try to hide your slowly, but surely growing red eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

The hand on your hip squeezes the skin under it, his figure now fully hovering over you again, eyes desperately wanting to meet yours. A finger gently pressed to your chin makes you turn your head back forward, his worried gaze bearing into you, and for a moment, you two only stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time.

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid.

But for a second, he acts like he is.

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles. “You’re scaring me.”

And when you don’t give him an answer, but instead chew on the inside of your cheek– another place to bleed after you bite down too hard from the nerves crushing you from the inside– he seems to finally get the hint, an airy laugh full of disbelief meeting your ears. Having figured it out, still, he speaks it into existence– as if he needed a confirmation; 8 words tormentingly escaping from between his swollen lips.

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

Sniffling, you shut your eyes close at the question, your silence a clear answer to your childhood friend as he peels himself off you, the feeling of cold air on your exposed skin like a painful slap to reality. You stay like that for some time, mentally counting seconds, each hammer of your heart in your chest like a threat to your existence. Finally, the silence is broken by a determined, yet a little weak sentence coming out of Chenle’s mouth.

“I think you have to leave.”

Numb, you follow the orders.

July 25, 2020 – Ning Yizhuo’s room, Shanghai, 6:11 PM

“So I was right all along?” Yizhuo snickers, eating from the bowl of almonds she has settled in the free space between her lap and her crossed legs, staring at you with the hydrating sheet mask on her face. You heave out a sigh at her comment, rolling your eyes as you fall back into her soft mattress, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s all you got from this conversation?”

“Almost,” she mumbles, but nudges you with her foot right after, “I’m joking. I was listening, I’m just… shocked that I was actually right and that you were fucking my cousin all along.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening anymore, so you don’t have to be disturbed,” you grunt, wondering why you actually told the girl in the first place, regretting the decision perhaps the most right now. Yes, she did bug you for the last few weeks about the reasoning behind your attitude, and the fact that you refused all the invitations to hang out with your friends in fear of seeing Chenle were starting to get a bit suspicious, so you figured you can’t hide it anymore and that Yizhuo was bound to find out either way sooner or later. And still, you think you needed a bit of girl advice too.

“‘m not disturbed,” she mumbles, voice suddenly considerate, “I just- the whole situation is all kinds of weird and fucked up right now.”

“Tell me about it,” you chuckle, the bitter taste on your tongue never leaving despite trying to drown your sorrow down in sweets. “I fucked it up, Yizhuo.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” she sighs, putting the bowl of almonds to her coffee table and laying next to you, reaching for your hand and swinging it around in failed acts of encouragement and affection. “It’s not your fault he freaked out and made it weird.”

“I made it weird!” you mourn, breaking away from her grasp and dragging your hands through your hair in frustration, the feelings bundling in your stomach making you feel like acid is just bound to shoot out of the crevices of your insides, throwing up from the stress and despair. “I’m moving across the world the next month and I won’t see any of you for a long time, since Jun is moving to Korea and you’re gonna work in your parent’s company as well as going to uni here, and instead of spending the last moments of summer break together, I fucked it up and made everything weird and awkward just because I had to fall in love with my childhood best friend. While we’d been fucking. Isn’t that fucking great?” you huff, closing your eyes shut with the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at your own words falling from between your lips.

“We are spending time together right now, though,” Yizhuo tries to cheer you up, her pout heard in her tone.

“There are millions of different ways you’d love to spend your time with me instead of moping because of your cousin,” you note, sighing, “and I don’t even fucking know what he’s gonna do after summer break, and now, I won’t get to know.”

Yizhuo grows quiet next to you, suggesting the thickening atmosphere. Turning on your side to see your friend with her eyes glued to your figure, you chew on the inside of your cheek. She sighs, preparing herself for the mental tangent she’s gonna bring you on, and reaches over to smooth down your messy hair.

“You know, Chenle never really liked… this life,” she says, shrugging, “he hates shopping, he hates hearing about investing, he hated traveling so much when you and your family didn’t tag along… At every family reunion, he just hid away in his room and never got out, because he found the whole situation snobby and fake and all those adjectives I’ve never really thought about calling my own relatives. He… he…” she licks her lips, trying to come up with the right words to say, “he sees the world around us with different eyes, and I don’t think he’s happy with it. So don’t- don’t be mad at him for not really… going anywhere with it, okay?”

Furrowing your brows at her, you shake your head in confusion. This is perhaps the first time you really realized Chenle’s view on things– it’s not like you haven’t heard his annoyed rants about all the prestige and over-the-top lifestyle you all have, but that’s all you thought it was. Annoyance– because at the end of the day, your life is comfortable. You wouldn’t want it any other way. If money moves the world around, you were the one walking through every hallway, all opportunities opened up in front of your eyes; and you don’t think you’d enjoy your life more if you had a bit less money. Chenle, on the other hand, seems to be quite the opposite. His joy is not determined by money, and for the first time in your life, it seems like you’re getting what he’s been talking about your whole life, the words you heard but never truly listened to. It was right in front of you the whole time, but you never saw it, and now that your eyes have been opened, you find it hard to deal with the revelation.

“But what is he going to do?” you gurgle out, confused.

“I don’t think he knows either,” Yizhuo shrugs, “he’s… figuring out things, I suppose.”

Chuckling, you shut your eyes in despair, thinking for a bit, but still failing to grasp the situation. “I don’t get it. He- he could have everything, but he’s just… throwing everything away? He could move across the world, he could start his own company, he could buy a house or work or study, but he just won’t,” you ramble, “I don’t get it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Yizhuo shrugs, “but he sees it a different way.”

Laying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling, your friend clears her throat and awkwardly shuffles around her sheets. “And at the end of the day, even though you’ve been friends for forever, I think you’re just in love with the version of him that you’ve created in your head. The version that you’re trying, but cannot fix,” she notes, pausing for a moment before proceeding, “the only person you can fix is yourself.”

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right. Maybe you fell in love with the Chenle in his sports car, Chenle in the golf cart with his designer clothes on, Chenle on the cruise ship sipping on expensive alcohol. Maybe you fell in love with the version that has the whole world in the palm of his hand, the version of him that goes to Yale with you and rents out a luxurious apartment in the middle of the city, kissing you behind the tall windows, watching over the busy streets– the version in your dreams, the version you wanted to achieve.

But what about the version of him that walked you to your house after tennis class? What about the version of him that cuddled you in his sheets, the version of him that fell asleep soundly when you played with his hair, cradled your fingers through his scalp? What about the version of him that scared you in the dark, because he knew you get creeped out too easily, the version of him that ate cheap sausage with you in Japan, the version of him that studied with you and brought you to your bed when you fell asleep at the table? What about the version of him that cried to Disney movies with you, the version of him that danced with you to the tunes of One Direction in your room when you were sixteen, the version of him that threw rocks on your window in the moonlight the night you turned seventeen, wanting to be the first one to wish you happy birthday before slipping inside of your room in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep seconds later, huddling your sheets?

Did you make that up? Was that not him in the first place?

And maybe, there is a discrepancy between the dream you’ve made up in your head with him, the idea of you two staying together, trying to fix the view he has on the world you two live in, but at the end of the day, none of it was a lie.

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right; you should change the way you view things to match Chenle’s better, because at the end of the day, maybe you’re the one too blinded by the gold and silver around your neck to see the real issue here.

August 2, 2020 – Lehai Villas, Baicheng, China, 10:15 PM

When you finally see Zhong Chenle after the night he kicked you out of his bedroom, both of you are a mess.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense. Your dress is neat, the jewelry on your neck was carefully picked out days before, the heels enveloping your feet are one of the most comfortable ones for you to walk in, since you prepared yourself for being on your feet the whole evening. Your makeup is fixed on your face, earrings dangling off your ears and your purse matches the outfit perfectly; your hair in a fancy updo that you even drove to a hairdresser for, all so that you could look flawless for another one of your parent’s gatherings. Their business partner’s son is turning 21, and while it doesn’t look like that big of a deal, they are celebrating the fact that Mark Lee is now one of the shareholders of their company– and in your world, this is the most moving moment of the child’s life.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense– you keep looking around, restless, not really paying attention to anything anyone is saying. Aimlessly humming and picking at the skin of your cuticles, you try hard to both catch a glance of your friend, and to also avoid him at all costs. The reality that Zhong Chenle is a mess too hits you only when you finally see him– his tie loose on his neck, a grunt escaping his throat that you can hear from all the way to where you are, his walking a little wobbly and his hair messy as he runs his hand through the sprayed-down locks, his composure disheveled and so obviously out of the place.

And you want to stay away, you really do– to let him deal with his own things by himself, to pretend you weren’t cautiously looking for him all evening– but when he picks up another glass of alcohol from one of the tables and downs it in one go, cheeks getting rosier by the minute, you wonder how far you can let him go until he gets into trouble with his parents; and suddenly, you’re on your feet, just like you expected, dragging your figure closer to the one you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” you mumble when you appear behind him, his shoulders slouching at the tone of your voice. When he looks around and catches your eyes, he snickers to himself, shrugging, before he makes a face full of disgust at your remark.

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” he says, “Mark Lee’s a big man now, taking all the responsibility for a company that’s so great, and he loves the job so much,” he continues, over-exaggerating every word, “and we’re here to celebrate his birthday! Have you… seen the motherfucker anywhere, by the way? Would wanna congratulate him on… the thing…” he trails off, dramatically scratching his head as he speaks the last words.

“Chenle–”

“Right! We are celebrating a guy we don’t even know, or seen the whole evening, but that’s so great, because at least we have all this alcohol–”

“Okay, you’re getting out of here,” you snap, shaking your head at his antics and digging your nails into his forearm, dragging the boy out of the crowded place before he throws a tantrum. With how his voice was getting louder and louder, a few figures turned to watch your exchange, and you can’t imagine the turmoil this will take on him once his parents find out– it’s better to get him out of there before he messes up even more badly.

His feet stumbling on the stairs outside, he mutters something under his breath as you drag his half-limp, half-stubborn body through the enormous land. The gardens are full of fairy lights and adults talking to each other in hushed whispers, laughter erupting out of their put-together figures every now and then, and you take some time before you finally manage to find a silent corner in one of the carefully mowed gardens, Chenle’s complains silencing after a while, admitting his fate.

Carelessly throwing his body towards one of the benches, the lighting dim in the corner, you watch as he takes a seat and looks at you with defeated eyes, the emptiness behind his gaze breaking you on so many levels you didn’t even think you could master; Zhong Chenle is a mess– has been a mess for a while now, and you didn’t notice– you didn’t do anything about it until now.

“What happened to you?!” you yelp out, voice betraying you somewhere towards the end of the sentence, sounding more desperate than you intended. Eyes scanning over his slouching body, you notice him playing with his fingers in his lap, an action of calming himself down that he’s picked up after you slapped his hands every time he tried to bite on his nails growing up, and you take a few steps around the place, running your fingers through your carefully styled hair.

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” Chenle grunts, rolling his eyes at your composure.

“No, Chenle, because I don’t get it,” you shake your head, looking him dead in the sparkless eyes, “I do not get it.”

When he offers you no explanation, rather just gazing your whole body up and down, eyes half-lidded, you presume he’s a bit out of it– the alcohol truly hitting his system now, making you result in a little tangent of yourself, because you presume everything’s better than his parent’s scolding, and maybe he just needs someone to wake him back to reality. “What happened, Chenle? What the actual fuck is going on lately? You don’t speak to anyone about it, you don’t tell me, out of all people–” a snicker leaves his lips to this, making you huff in frustration, “you don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling, and it’s eating you up from the inside, and believe me when I say, Chenle, it’s pretty damn heartbreaking to watch.”

Looking at him, you’re offered nothing but silence. His cheeks are rosy and puffed up from the alcohol, his frame is small– opposed to the power stance he usually takes– and you don’t think you’re getting a conversation from him any time soon. Ready to give up, you shake your head at him and scoff. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk to me, since you have an issue with the fact that I care about you more than I should,” you snap, agreeing to be petty with him, if this was how he was gonna play.

“I don’t talk to any of you, because you wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice almost a bit annoyed, tongue dipped in bitterness.

“We grew up together, Chenle. Our lives are pretty much the same, why the fuck would you think that I, out of all people, wouldn’t understand?”

“See, that’s the thing,” Chenle catches you off guard, charming in with an argument barely before you are able to finish the sentence, “our lives are pretty much the same, yet you love it. You fucking love it, all of you do– you love waking up in your little fancy bedrooms, doing great at school because if you don’t, your parents are going to threaten you with disowning you– and what else do you have if not your parents wealth that you coincidentally, also despise at the same time? You go shopping to your favorite mall with your equally wealthy friends, because you’re not allowed to befriend people that are lower class– that would just look fucking embarrassing in front of your parents’ contacts, wouldn’t it? You go to charity events and birthday celebrations of a guy you’ve never seen in your whole life before, just because someone told you to– and don’t you dare tell them you won’t go, because how the fuck are they gonna look all pretty in front of their business partners if their only son doesn’t attend a celebration of someone inheriting a share from their parents’ company– a thing you’re supposed to do as soon as you turn 20, if you don’t attend university they picked out for you instead. You go on fancy holidays and take pictures in front of all the attractions, and it doesn’t even feel special anymore, because you do this every month– and the only time you ever felt alive was when you were drunk and making out with someone that you shouldn’t even think about in that way in the first place, because it’s your parents’ friends’ daughter, and at the end of the day, they would just love the fact that we were together, because that could strengthen the business bond they have– the only reason why they’re friends in the first place, and I’m so fed up, I hate it, I despise it–” he stops to take a breath, his eyes getting glossy,

and suddenly, you’re helpless, you’re falling apart– because the issue is so much bigger than you anticipated and you don’t know how to do anything about it.

“And I don’t fucking feel real, Y/N, I don’t, and I don’t think I ever have, because I just wake up in the mornings and then somewhere along the way, I realise I’m alive and I laugh, because how could all of this be real? How could the money be real? How could anything be real, and– and it’s so confusing, because I should be grateful, but I’m not, because I can’t even fully grasp it,” he breathes, tears now streaking down his cheeks.

It feels like the whole world stopped for a moment; it feels like you are in a movie and someone pressed pause. You stare at him, you blink, and you pray for something to send you strength to deal with this, to tell you what to do or how to comfort him– because this must have felt so alone, and you can’t stand the image of Chenle ever being lonely.

Opening your mouth and closing it, you gasp for air. No words feel suitable for this kind of conversation, and so you just chime towards him– despite all your best assumptions– and hold him. Because at the end of the day, what helps more to ground someone back to earth than human touch?

Pads of your thumbs wipe at the teardrops strolling down his cheeks, every contact with the salty liquid hurting you, cutting through your skin like razor blades– because Chenle never cries, he never feels like something is worth indulging in enough to bring him to tears– and when he catches his trembling bottom lip in his teeth, you break; pulling him towards you and threading your fingers through his hair, the action once lullying him to sleep now used like a broken mantra– please be okay, please relax, please let me hold you until you’re glued back together again.

“I dunno what to do,” he shrugs, his head resting on your stomach, voice burrowing itself into the fabric of your expensive dress, “dunno where to go. ‘Cause Jun’s leaving, and Yizhuo’s gonna be busy with everything, and– and you’re moving across the fucking ocean, and I’m just– I turned everything down, because–” he says, voice breaking, and you shush him with a pat on his back, touch growing more affectionate.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I got you,” you say; words he once told you at the golf cart, looking after you, or in the hotel room back in Japan when you were 6 and falling asleep, still scared of ghosts appearing in your bedroom– and you believed them, you always did, because Chenle was always there when you needed him– so you only pray he finds comfort in the sincere phrases, because what more is there to offer him?

His breathing grows steadier as you continue to play with his messy hair, his hands gently allowing themselves to wrap around your thighs, your standing figure shelved between his legs, and he laughs to himself, the whole situation kind of ironic to him now. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. ‘m kinda numb, you know, so it doesn’t even really hurt in the first place,” he says, and you wish you found the same humor in it than he did– or at least the bitter sense of soothing yourself with irony– but you can’t. Looking down at his body, latched to you like a lifeline, you wonder how you could ever leave him there alone, to deal with the burden by himself. How could you ever move so far away from him?

“My parents wanted me to go with you,” he starts, the sentence sparking up something inside of you, but he doesn’t pull away and meet your eyes when he continues, foreshadowing a sad ending to your hope, “they said I should study business at Yale as well, that it’s a great opportunity.”

You don’t reply to him, choosing not to push him. After a sigh, he continues. “And I didn’t get in, because, naturally, I was too stupid for it in the first place– no, I was–” he says when you gently slap the back of his head at the comment, “but then they paid the dean and suddenly I was allowed to go. Can you believe that?” he snickers bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bad mouthed you for a thing I despised in myself, when you were the one that got in fair and square in the first place.”

“‘s okay,” you mumble, compassion dripping off your words.

“And I turned it down, ‘cause I hated the fact that they did that. I was okay with studying the fucking business program, even though I despised it, I was okay with moving across the world, because at least you’d be there, y’know, but I couldn’t bear the fact that they did that to get me in. I think I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, because they had to pay for me to get there, but– I don’t know…” he trails off, and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s okay to take opportunities that are presented to you, Lele,” you mumble, “I know you hate it, but you can’t change who you’re born to. The best you could do is to not waste all of this,” you say, trying to find a source of light in the deep abyss of his thoughts.

You try hard to solve the problem– to offer him a solution that could work, that could let him forget about the pain for at least a second– to wake him up from whatever deep thinking that got him into this mess. You try hard to solve the problem– but you don’t know how to deal with it. All you know is that you’re trying to pick up the patterns; you’d fit in his skin if you could, you’d crawl in and fix everything– but at the end of the day, as Yizhuo said, the only person you can fix is yourself.

“Bought,” he says, fixing your mistake, “opportunities that were bought for me. I couldn’t do it,” he says.

Huffing, indulging in a spare second of your own pain– a spare second of the despair eating you up from the insides, the helplessness you’ve been feeling ever since you were forcefully kicked out of Zhong Chenle’s life– and you didn’t even tell him you loved him in the first place before he got stuck in the fire of the woods; before you two started acting like it didn’t matter and always ended up in feuds– you mumble a comment, voice barely louder than a whisper, but he can hear it because of the closeness of your bodies in the few stray raindrops that come over you two once the clock strikes midnight.

“We could’ve lived together, you and me,” you say, “us against the whole world,” you comment– a childlike yearning spilling out of your lips, “we could’ve gone to Yale together and you’d figure something out along the way. Maybe– maybe you’d find a purpose if you moved, we could–”

“Y/N,” he shushes you, uttering out your name, finally breaking away from you as he looks up and gazes into the swimming pools of your eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile, “‘s okay. It wouldn’t have fixed anything anyway, it– it wouldn’t have helped.”

“But–”

“You can move, Y/N, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re taking yourself with you.”

August 20, 2020 – the backyard of your childhood house, Shanghai, 11:11 PM

You were never really that good at science– sure, your parents demanded you get good grades in every subject and your private school put quite the pressure on your education, but even though you always managed to pull satisfactory marks in exams, your understanding of the logistics sometimes lacked; you were much better at humanities or business-related courses, hearing enough at family dinners to find out your way through the lectures and apply the facts into examples from real life.

So, if anyone asked you how many stars there were in the universe, you wouldn’t be too confident in your answer. You wouldn’t know how to apply the Milky Way as your model– since it was said that it has around 100 billion stars alone– and multiply the part by the amount of galaxies in the universe– approximately 2 trillion– to get a number somewhere close to 200 billion trillion, also called 200 sextillion.

You wouldn’t know how to do any of that, or how to even count this amount without a calculator, so you’d take a more liberal arts approach– literary, even– and say, that on August 20, 2020, at 11:11 sharp in your backyard, gazing on to the deep, dark sky and wishing for a star to fall so you could propose a selfish wish that could change everything, there’s still not more stars there than in Zhong Chenle’s eyes when your gazes meet after your friends leave for the evening, leaving you with your neighbor completely alone.

And it’s strange, seeing him like this– maybe because you didn’t even realize how used to the dull and emotionless Chenle you’ve been all this time– but it warms something inside of your heart as you take a hesitant step towards him, the first one out of the whole evening, and take a seat next to him in the corner of your terrace, sighing to yourself.

“You actually came,” you note, seeing as he turns to you and furrows his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Should I not have? I mean, by the text you sent me, it seemed like you wanted me here, but if I misread the situation, I can go…” he snickers, teasing you just the slightest as he nudges you to your side.

You hum, shaking your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “I just… I dunno.”

“Expected me to ignore you?”

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

“Damn,” he giggles, “that’s fair, though. Considering the previous events, and all.”

Rolling your eyes at his composure, finally getting used to the old Chenle– the one that teases you over the smallest things, the one who doesn’t let his emotions show in his face– you watch him as he takes a seat on one of the rattan sofas and you follow him, body slouching next to his, feeling his head gently rest on your shoulder in the mere moment of silence between your two figures.

“Wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you for the last time,” he says, voice quiet and vulnerable, “god knows when I’ll see you again.”

“Chenle–”

“Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he snickers, already knowing where your words are going– you’re going to try to stop him, tell him you don’t want to think about it right now, on the last evening at your house for the near future.

“I’d rather not think about that, y’know,” you huff, frustrated. The anxieties of leaving everything behind are clenching on your insides right now, holding you back from moving freely and with enthusiasm, and you wonder– if you knew how this would feel all those months ago– if you knew how terrifying and painful the whole process could be, would you still apply to Yale? Would you still want to go?

“Okay,” he dotes, tone of voice casual, like it’s not a big deal.

“Okay? Just like that?” you snicker, surprised at how easily he gave the topic up.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

Sitting in silence, you realize there’s so many words you’d like to say to him. You’d like to tell him just how much you’re gonna miss him and how you regret ruining the last few months you two had together, and how you’re sorry your feelings scared him to the point where he felt like he had no one to confide in. You’d like to tell him how you built a future with him in your brain, carefully placed him into your reality, only for him to break away from your grasp and go his own way, and how much it hurts, but how you’re always going to support him in whatever he chooses, because you care for him more than your little heart could take. You’d like to tell him how you’re gonna call him every day to check up on him, how you’re gonna send letters and press a secret kiss to each sheet of expensive paper you’ll get downtown, wishing he could feel the essence with the growing distance between you two. You’d like to ask him to visit you often– he’s gonna have more time on his hands, and god knows money’s not the issue. You’d like to selfishly tell him you find it hard to deal with the distance, and how you wish he wouldn’t find somebody else while you’re gone, and how you so dearly hope that somewhere in there, your feelings are silently reciprocated, but hidden away in fear of everything falling apart once again.

But instead, you don’t say anything. You tend to wait for him to speak up first– he’s always had a problem with talking too much in the first place, after all.

And he does– you can still predict his next moves. You know him that well.

“I’m gonna miss you, though,” he sighs, catching you off guard by saying something from the list of your silenced words, “don’t think that I won’t. Or that the way I’ll miss you is different than the way you’re gonna miss me,” he speaks, tone of voice laced in honesty and sincerity, his words heavy with the essence of what he’s never going to say out loud– or so you think.

“In what way?”

“I’m not gonna miss you like a friend misses a friend,” he says, “and I don’t mean the sex,” he snickers, brightening the mood with his comment.

Rolling his eyes at him, you feel him lift his head up from your shoulder, forcing you to look at him and meet his starry eyes again– the damn starry eyes that always make you spill the truth, because god knows you cannot lie to him– and you find yourself scanning his features, the structure of his bones you fear you’re gonna forget when you’re away, so desperately wanting to lock your lips with his for one last time, because when you come back one day, you may not have the right or chance to do so anymore.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“You know why, Chenle.”

“Can you say it out loud?” he demands, and you shake your head– maybe it's best if the words are left unsaid. Doesn’t matter if they’re hanging in the air, for everyone to read.

“Why?”

“You know how I feel about you,” you snicker, “don’t make me say it out loud.”

Because even if you told him you loved him, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it all better, it wouldn’t make it all good– no matter how hard you wish that it would.

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing too fast again– and with that, he smiles, the gesture so soft and sudden, and there you are– you’ve got a caving heart in your open arms, and Chenle takes it, carelessly choking out the hushed confession, “I’m in love with you. If you don’t say it, I’m gonna, because… you deserve to know.”

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watch him, frozen in your place, for a while. Your eyes carefully scan every curve of his face– the curve of his lips, the curve of his cheeks, the hood of his eyes, his brows, the thousand stolen galaxies in his orbs and mouth glistening like honey, inviting you in. Snickering under your breath, you choose to not give in to the temptation.

“You’re only saying that because I’m leaving tomorrow,” you say, shaking your head.

“Maybe,” he agrees.

And you know that– you know that if you weren’t leaving, he wouldn’t tell you that he loves you. He wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable, he wouldn’t tell you how he feels about you, because he had all this time– all those months and weeks spent with you in his bed, and you know his touches weren’t just shallow desire– and he never once said anything. He didn’t do anything about it, and now that there is nothing more to do about it, nothing that could change the trajectory of either of your lives, he chooses to speak it to the universe; because it doesn’t change anything, it can’t possibly do so– and so he doesn’t have to fear the consequences, he doesn’t have to fear the attachment that comes with such confession.

And for a minute, you think it’s selfish. You think it’s laughable, ironic, even, but you accept it.

His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers with his when he launches you forward into him, arms gently enveloping your body when your head settles itself to the curve of his shoulder. You stay like this for a while, in his hold again, breathing in his scent and trying to remember it for weeks and months before you’re able to smell it again, letting out a nosy question out of your lips– and truly, you don’t know why you do so, when you know the answer to it already anyway. Maybe you just want to hear it again.

“So… you do have feelings for me too, after all?”

He stays quiet for a while, before he softly laughs into your hair. “Yeah,” he nods, “but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re leaving for Yale tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And he’s right– you are. Thinking for a while, feeling him place a shy peck to the crown of your head– the only kiss you two allow yourselves at this point of time– you come to the conclusion that even though you love him, care for him like you’ve never cared for another before, you wouldn’t change a thing about your plan– wouldn’t change the trajectory of your whole life, wouldn't stay in Shanghai, wouldn’t drop out of university, wouldn’t stop everything because of him, because in a way, you strangely have it all figured out.

And he doesn’t.

And you pray that one day, he’ll find the purpose in all the potential he holds in his hands.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct x reader #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle oneshot #chenle fic #chenle imagine #chenle fanfic #chenle best friends to lovers #chenle au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct angst

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hunny-bean · 11 months

Note

Hello, I have a Matt x reader x Frank castle smut request. Frank tells Matt what he does with you after his patrol, how tight you are and how good your pussy tastes. Frank takes Matt to his apartment and the two have a lot of fun with the reader. They use the reader like a sex doll. Despite the years with Frank, the reader is too tight and Matt is too big.

In High Demand

Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt's been overworking himself. Frank knows someone who can help him relax.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Threesome, Oral Sex (M and F Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Praise and Degradation, An Obscene Amount of Dialogue, The Reader is Very Slutty (I'm Sorry. . . No I'm Not).

A/N: Well, I'm officially out of the frying pan and into the fire. Of course, by fire, I mean threesome. I'm sorry this took so long for me to finish. I'm a bit of a slow editor. If you have any constructive criticism, I will absorb ALL of it happily. I'm trying to improve my writing skills as much as I can. Also, I'm always taking requests! XOXO.

Read on AO3

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"I really appreciate you helping me out with this, Frank."

Frank looked up from where he was sitting with his back against the brick barrier. "Yeah, well, I owed you one," he replied, "and I'm not a huge fan of being in debt."

The two vigilantes were resting on a vacant rooftop, listening closely for any signs of danger. Hearing nothing, Matt figured the "Devil of Hell's Kitchen" had driven everyone with something to fear from him back inside. He declared his nightly patrol a success. As soon as he switched off attack mode, he felt the exhaustion hit him, and he slumped down on the wall next to Frank.

"So, you're saying you did all this to balance the scales?" Matt asked incredulously.

"Just about," Frank muttered, scratching a little blood stain off the knife Matt let him borrow. "And I only beat up one guy, so it's not like I actually had to work for it."

"I'd say you worked hard enough. I mean, you did make it all night without killing anyone."

"There you go again with that self-righteous bullshit," Frank groaned. "What I don't get is why you would ask someone you constantly feel the need to babysit for help."

Taking a deep breath in, Matt forced himself to stand, getting ready for the walk back to his apartment.

"You were convenient," he explained. "I knew your skills and I knew where to find you. Also, you're not nearly as lethal without all your guns."

"Well, fuck you too," Frank grumbled. He waited for Matt to take a few steps towards the ladder before chucking the knife he was holding directly at the back of his head. He watched it spiral through the air, perfectly on course, only to land gingerly in Matt's hand. It was almost like the knife changed its trajectory at the last second, but Frank knew that wasn't the case. Besides, it's not like he actually wanted to hit him. He didn't even think that was possible.

Matt turned back in his direction. Even through the mask, Frank could feel the raised eyebrow. He ignored it. Hopping up, he made his way over so the two of them could walk together.

"Okay, but why ask for help at all?" Frank pressured. "It's obvious you can handle yourself, and you've never asked before."

"You know as well as anyone how unpredictable these streets can be," Matt began. "You're right, most nights I can handle myself, but. . . I wasn't so sure about tonight. I wanted someone there, just in case."

He was about to start climbing down the ladder, but Frank's voice stopped him before he could.

"Something tells me you're not gonna be so sure about tomorrow, either."

"What?"

"Come on, Red. Look at yourself. You're practically dead on your feet," Frank pointed out. "It's three in the goddamn morning, you just fought like fourteen people, and now, what? You're going home to get your two hours of sleep before work?"

"Four."

"That's still not enough, and you know it."

"I'll be fine," Matt asserted.

"No one can do that every night and be fine."

"Why do you care?"

"Because unlike some people, I actually respect what you do around here, and I don't wanna find out what this shithole would look like without you," Frank raved. There was a long silence after that, both men startled by the declaration.

"You won't."

Matt began his descent, ready to end their conversation. Frank, it seemed, had other plans.

"If you were fine, you wouldn't be taking the ladder," he called down after him.

Matt paused, resting his head against the metal rung in front of him. He was really starting to get aggravated by Frank's incessant concerns. The most annoying part was that he was right. Matt would usually make it home from patrol in two minutes flat, his feet touching nothing but rooftops. He picked a shorter building with a ladder tonight because he feared his body was too sore to make the jumps. To say it had been a rough week would be an understatement.

'You have nothing to prove,' he repeated in his head like a mantra. It worked at first; he made it another three steps down, but then he heard Frank's stupid voice again.

"Why won't you just admit that you're burnt out?"

Matt gritted his teeth, unable to hide his frustration any longer. He gave up on avoiding conflict and began climbing back up to the roof to be on the same level as Frank.

"I am not burnt out," he growled.

There was an awkward pause as Frank looked Matt up and down, thinking. He carefully considered his slumped posture and his shoulders racked with tension. Matt couldn't see him, but he could feel Frank's eyes examining him, and it made him uncomfortable. He was about to say something, but Frank broke the silence before he could.

"When's the last time you got laid?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"I'm sorry-"

"You're not a virgin, are you?"

"What? No!"

"So how long's it been?"

Matt wasn't sure how to feel about the sudden shift in the argument. he kinda felt like he was in a train headed towards a cliff that suddenly veered off course. He was safe from the fall, but who knew what lay ahead of him now?

"Why the hell would you want to know that?" he asked.

"Just answer the question."

"Uhh, a few months? I don't kn-"

He was interrupted again by Frank letting out a low, impressed whistle.

"That's even worse than I thought," Frank said.

"You've thought about this?" Matt asked, horrified.

"No, jesus christ, man, it's obvious. You're all tense 'n shit. You look like you haven't relaxed in a while, that's all."

Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. "I think we should go," he mumbled.

"I think you should get some."

"Ok, well it's not like you've got someone waiting for you at home either," Matt snapped.

Frank looked at Matt quizzically, letting out a surprised chuckle.

"What?" Matt asked, exasperated.

"Nothing," Frank responded. "It's just that you really are off your game."

"What are you talking about?"

"There is someone waiting for me at home right now."

"Bullshit."

"I thought you could, like, smell it on me or something," Frank speculated.

Now that he mentioned it, Matt did notice something different about Frank's unique smell. There was a slightly sweeter scent intertwined with his typical smoke and rosewood. He knew Frank wasn't lying, but for some reason he didn't want to believe it.

"I didn't hear anyone else inside when I came to get you," he added.

"She was out with some friends. She should be home by now."

"You realize how made up that sounds, right?"

"Cut the crap. You know it's true."

"Yeah, I know," Matt conceded. "She your girlfriend?"

"Yeah. . . At least, I think she is."

"Do you go out on dates often?" Matt supplied. He made a 'come on' gesture to encourage Frank to follow as he started down the ladder once more.

"I don't exactly know what counts as a date in your world, but I think we do." Frank inhaled sharply as he almost lost his footing on a loose bar.

"Wait, does she know who you are? The terms of your agreement-"

"I remember all the terms, thanks," Frank muttered. "I didn't tell her. She figured it out pretty quick though. Maybe I should grow a beard or somethin'."

"Do you love her?" Matt asked when they reached the bottom. The two of them started off in the same direction for their homes, taking only the deserted back alleys they were all too familiar with.

"Well I've only known her for three months," Frank answered, dusting little flakes of rust off his black jacket, "but I think I'm really starting to. She might just be the prettiest, sweetest girl I've ever known."

"That's a good sign. Okay, one last thing: Does she sleep with other people?"

Frank suddenly looked like he was remembering something funny. "Only if I ask her to," he smirked.

Matt was pretty sure his brain short-circuited, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "The correct answer would have been no," he deadpanned. "Why the hell would you ask someone to do that?"

"Well, Red, there's this thing you should know about my girl. I know she seems all cute and innocent at first, but she's actually the biggest slut I've ever met."

"Okay, TMI," Matt complained. Naturally, Frank ignored him. They began walking again, talking more about Frank's secret girlfriend.

"I'm telling you, man, she's perfect," he bragged. The night we met, I found her blowing some guy behind a bar."

Matt had to admit, that was a little amusing. "And what?" he asked, "you just went up to them and started hitting on her?"

"Not exactly," Frank laughed. "I was just walking home, and the guy she was with thought I said somethin' to him or some shit, 'cause he came over to me and started tryin' to pick a fight, right? Well, anyway, I knocked him out cold. Save the lecture, he was a dick wad and he wasn't even that drunk. But this girl, she thought it was hot, can you believe that? So, she starts hitting on me, saying I look strong and dangerous, 'cause apparently she's into that. She kept asking me to take her back to my place, and she was obviously hammered, so I did, just to keep her safe, you know? Almost immediately, she passes out on my bed, too tired to even try to fuck me anymore. Luckily, when she woke up, she remembered everything that happened, and I gave her my number in case she ever needed me to punch somebody else for her."

"And did she?" Matt prompted. He didn't actually care that much, but it was a decent story and it was definitely helping him keep his mind off his injuries.

"Yeah, two days later," Frank grinned. "She wasn't calling for a bodyguard, though. When I picked up, she told me she hadn't been able to stop thinking about me and was wondering if we could talk for a while so she could 'satisfy her curiosity'."

"She sounds very forward."

"You've got no idea. She's absolutely shameless, especially when she's drunk. You know, when she called me, she spent the whole conversation trying to pretend like she wasn't getting herself off."

"Wait, what?!"

"So, I had to sit there for an hour and listen to her try not to moan, and she's usually pretty good at staying quiet, but sometimes she gets so fuckin' wet that she just can't."

"That's disturbing," Matt lied, and was once again ignored.

"It's real easy for her to cover up the noises coming from her mouth, right? But the other ones. . . not so much. So, the whole time, I was just on my couch talking to her, and I was going absolutely insane 'cause I could hear what she was doing. After a little while, I just snapped and I told her if she wanted to hear my voice that badly, she could come over and I'd help her out."

"And?. . ."

"And she did."

"You slept with her the second time you met?"

"Yep. And the third, and the forth. . . probably the first eight times we got together. I mean, we were just goin' at it like every single night. It was amazing. She's so fuckin' tight, like tighter than most virgins. And she's damn good with her mouth. Like, the first time she sucked me off I almost saw your God. I don't think there's a single thing she can't do. Not much she won't do either."

"Really, dude. Stop."

"Whatever, man. I realized I actually liked her when she spent a full weekend at my place. We went out for lunch and played cards and watched a movie. She was just so smart and funny and I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving," Frank reminisced.

"So, is that when you asked her out?"

"No, that was when I asked her to move in with me."

Matt didn't even know where to start unpacking that. Before he could say anything, Frank stopped walking in front of a tall staircase behind a brick building.

"This is me," he announced.

"Hold on, you still haven't answered my question," Matt reminded him. "Why did you ask her to sleep with someone else?"

"Oh, yeah," Frank mused. "About a month ago, I went out for drinks with this old friend of mine, and was going on and on about how he hadn't gotten laid since his divorce. He seemed about her type, so I took him back to our place and had her take care of him for me."

"And she did it, just like that?"

"I told you she was great, didn't I?" Frank beamed.

"And neither of you cared?" That was something Matt was having trouble comprehending. He'd always been pretty possessive in his relationships, and the thought of sharing his partner was completely foreign to him.

"I am not a selfish man, Red. Anyone who dies without experiencing that pussy has never truly lived."

"Good to know."

Frank leaned casually against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, uh. . . you interested?"

It look Matt a moment to process what he was being asked, and when he did, he didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he didn't want to take any more help from Frank, especially not for something like this. He didn't want to come between a happy couple, either, even by invite. On the other hand, it had been a while, and the girl that had been described to him sounded remarkably satisfying. He began to realize that Frank was right: He seriously needed to get laid.

Frank decided Matt had been thinking a little too long.

"Do you like eating pussy?"

Matt was startled out of his inner turmoil. "You can't just fucking ask someone that," he hissed.

"Why not? You seem like you would," Frank stated nonchalantly.

"Fine. Yes, I do."

"Good. I'm tellin' you right now, there ain't a woman in all of New York that tastes sweeter than my baby. You get between her legs, you come out knowing things you didn't think were possible, swear to God."

"I find that hard to believe," Matt scoffed.

"I mean it. I could spend hours down there. I did once, actually, 'till we both passed out. . . But I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you? Come on, man. You really need this."

"I don't know, it just doesn't sound like such a good idea."

Frank rolled his eyes. "We're all adults, we can have a little fun. If you want, you can come up to get your dick sucked and then head home. It doesn't have to be a big thing."

"You seem very adamant about this," Matt noted.

"Well, I do aim to please," Frank quipped. "I'm talking about you and her. I think my girl would have a lot of fun with you."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're pretty easy on the eyes, you know. Also, she seems to have a thing for jaded middle-aged vigilantes. So, what do you say? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Murdock."

Matt sighed, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. For the life of him, he couldn't seem to remember any of his reasons for saying no.

"Alright," he decided.

Frank's face broke into a wolfish grin, and he began ascending the staircase towards the window at the very top of the building. Matt followed close behind him, wincing at the pain in his sides as he climbed. When the two men got to the top, Frank knocked four times at the glass.

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You had just finished changing into one of Frank's old t-shirts when you heard the familiar rattling of the window pane. You dried your hands on the bathroom towel and smiled as you went to let your boyfriend back inside.

Using that word was strange to you, but still it made you giddy with excitement. You never thought you would meet someone wonderful enough to settle down with, but finally you had. Frank was the most perfect man you'd ever known. He understood you in ways no one else could, and with him, you were satisfied. That was a miracle in and of itself.

You slid open the creaky window with a hard push, and watched as Frank hopped through it with a gracefulness that contrasted sharply with his bulky exterior. He seemed completely unharmed, as per usual, but you had still been worried about him. There was always that small chance he would come home covered in his own blood and full of broken bones. You were about to tear into him for not leaving a note when you noticed the red figure slipping in behind him.

"Hey, sweetheart, you remember me telling you about Matt, don't you?" Frank asked, cradling your face in his hands and giving you a sweet hello kiss.

"Is this him?" you responded, giving the new arrival a once-over.

"Yeah, this is him. Hey, Red, why don't you introduce yourself."

Matt stepped up to you and offered his hand for you to shake.

"Hi, I'm Matt. Frank's already told me all about you," he said cheerfully, almost like he knew something you didn't.

Frank stepped up behind you, resting his hand on your lower back and leaning in to tell you something.

"If you're up for it, I'm gonna need you to do me a favor, alright?" he mumbled. You could tell Matt heard everything. You remembered what Frank had told you about him and his unique talents.

You turned towards Frank, sliding your hands under his jacket and leaning in close.

"By that, do you mean you're gonna need me to do him a favor?" you wondered. Frank tucked your hair behind your ear and twirled it idly around his fingers.

"He's pretty high strung right now. I figured he might need a little somethin' special to relax."

"I'm perfectly capable of getting laid on my own, Frank," Matt butted in. Frank ignored him.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"

You laughed. "Yes, about twelve times this morning. You don't need to flatter me, I'll do it."

"You're amazing," Frank marveled, giving you another chaste kiss before turning to address Matt.

"How about you start by taking that stupid helmet off. Let my baby see what she's working with."

A small thrill ran through you when you heard Frank address you as his. You watched as Matt pulled his mask off, revealing the rest of his face. He looked a little nervous but you couldn't see why. He was absolutely gorgeous. His messy hair from the suit only added to the effects of his boyish charm. You noticed he did look rather tired, but that did nothing to dull his handsome features. You could tell you were gonna have a lot of fun with this one.

"He's even prettier than you," you joked.

Frank swatted you lightly on the ass and pushed you in Matt's direction. "Watch it," he growled playfully.

You stalked over to Matt and kissed him lightly on the cheek before pulling him over to the couch.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" you asked gently.

Matt swallowed thickly, trying to adjust to his situation. "Yeah, I'm okay," he responded. You hoped he'd settle in soon. There was something about him that told you he could be a lot of fun when he warmed up. Then again, that was what you were there for.

"What do you want?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Really, I can just go if-"

"No!" you interrupted. "I don't want you to go, I want to make you feel better. I'm okay with whatever you want, promise."

Matt seemed to be struggling to come up with what to say. Honestly, you were feeling a little nervous too, even though there was no reason to be. Suddenly, you realized what the issue was.

"Hey, Frank?" you called out. He came over to the two of you holding a couple of beers in one hand. He passed one to Matt, who accepted it gratefully.

You waited until he was next to you before admitting your problem to him. "I think we feel a little weird because we don't have any rules. Could you maybe. . . tell us what to do?" you asked.

Frank nodded, sitting down in the ratty old armchair next to the couch.

"Why don't you ask me what you wanna do with him, and I'll give you the go-ahead. Sound good, baby?"

You looked over at Matt who seemed to have relaxed some. You definitely found the source of the problem. All you needed was permission.

"Can I kiss him?" you asked.

Frank's eyes were sparkling with his newfound control. "You can kiss him all you want, sugar."

You slid closer to Matt, turning his head towards yours. "Stop me if you get uncomfortable," you whispered, and then leaned in to press your lips to his. Matt groaned and immediately deepened the kiss, eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. It was obvious now how much he needed this.

He tasted good in a way you couldn't explain, and you didn't want to pull away until you'd figured out what it was. You could feel the throbbing in your core picking up with every passing moment. Your breath caught when you felt Matt reach up to run his fingers through your hair. Wanting to move things along, you climbed into his lap so you could be pressed against him, chest-to-chest.

"Pull her hair. She likes that," Frank suggested.

Matt complied, tugging gently, then harder when he felt you shiver against him. Leave it to Frank to know exactly what you want and when you want it. You pulled back from the kiss to look at your moderator, rolling your hips hesitantly to gauge his reaction. He nodded, and you watched him palm himself roughly through his pants. That was all the encouragement you needed.

Returning to the kiss, you began grinding down hard against him, hoping that he could feel your movements through his thick suit. Matt reacted in a way that showed you he certainly could, gasping and grabbing onto your hips to push up against you. You moaned when one particularly hard thrust allowed you to feel the outline of his cock through your clothes.

"Oh, what the fuck," you breathed, pulling away from the kiss in shock. There was no way in hell he was that big. You settled your weight fully on his lap, gently rocking back in forth to feel more of him. You had to make sure that you weren't just imagining things. You weren't. He was absolutely fucking huge. You weren't sure how he was supposed to fit inside you, but dammit if you weren't excited to find out.

Matt seemed amused by your reaction to your recent discovery. He could smell the sudden increase in your arousal that accompanied the feeling of you getting wetter. You felt his hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he grinded up against you. Every thrust was deep and dirty, inciting the growing heartbeat between your legs. It felt like he was showing off, or using his knowledge of a secret you had to tease you.

"Feel something you like, baby?" Frank asked from the sidelines.

"Uh-huh," You responded inattentively. You were too focused on the feeling of Matt's bulge rubbing against you to say much more than that.

"Why don't you head on down to the bedroom, alright sweetheart? We'll meet you there in a minute," Frank urged.

Reluctantly, Matt released you and you wandered down the hall to wait for the two men to come join you.

Frank waited for you to be out of earshot before moving to the couch next to Matt. They sat for a second, sipping at their drinks before Frank spoke.

"I know you have a fuck ton of ideas about how you should treat a woman, but I'm gonna need you to forget that shit before I take you back there, okay? I'm doing this for you, but if you don't make this good for her, I will kick you out, got it? She's not interested in your kindness tonight. She wants you to treat her like an object. Like a dumb whore you're just using to get off. I know you've got a dark side in there somewhere, Red. I need you to tell me right now if you think you can use it."

Matt never expected that to be something that would intrigue him. It had always seemed so cruel and taboo. . . but if it was what you wanted. . .

"I can."

"Good." Frank stood up and began walking towards the bedroom. After a few steps, he remembered something and turned back around. "Also, what the hell, man? I'm not letting you fuck her without stretching her out first. I know I said you could hurt her, but I don't want you to make her bleed."

When they made it to the bedroom, they found you laying back against the pillows, gently teasing your clit through your panties. When they came through the doorway, you pulled your hand away, looking up at Frank shyly. He raised an eyebrow at you, scoffing at your innocent expression.

"You couldn't wait two minutes?" He sighed. "I'm not gonna embarrass you in front of our guest, baby, but next time you might not be so lucky."

"I'm sorry," you whined.

"No you're not." Frank came around the bed to sit next to you and directed Matt to sit down on your other side. "I think it's about time to take this off, what do you think?" Frank asked, tugging on the hem of your (his) shirt. You nodded, and he pulled it over your head, leaving you completely naked save for your soft cotton panties.

"What do you want right now, baby? His mouth or his fingers?" Frank offered, turning your head towards him. You were a little confused that those were your only options. Weren't you supposed to be making Matt feel good? Confusion aside, you still couldn't choose. They both sounded very appealing.

"Damn, Red. You must've done a good job back there. She's already having trouble thinking," he teased, flicking you gently on the forehead. "Why don't you use both?" he suggested.

Matt smiled, beginning to understand how Frank expected him to treat you. "If she's all fuzzy from a little kiss, are you sure she'd be able to handle both?"

"I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?"

You weren't sure what it was, but when Frank talked about you like you weren't there, a combination of arousal and safety washed over you. It always seemed to put you in a different headspace.

Matt climbed on top of you, finding your lips again as he slid your underwear down past your knees for you to kick off. He pulled your legs apart and began tracing your folds gently with his fingertips. Every touch was a completely new sensation. Matt was experimenting, figuring out where you were most sensitive, which motions you preferred and how hard he had to rub your clit to make you whimper.

He circled his fingers around your entrance, dipping into you just enough to feel you pulse and tighten around him, trying to pull him deeper. Right before you started begging, he pushed two of his fingers all the way in, curling them to explore your soft walls. It didn't take long for you to gasp and melt into the pillows as he brushed against your sweet spot. You hid your face in his neck, whining as he assaulted it over and over while bringing his thumb up to massage your clit.

Frank shushed you gently from his spot on the bed, reaching over to stroke your hair as you shook from the intense stimulation. You felt yourself dripping down Matt's fingers, and you could hear the wet sounds you were making as he fucked them in and out of your tight heat.

He pulled you right up to the edge before you heard Frank tell him to stop.

"Not yet," he muttered. "She'll get worn out after the third one, so you should probably make 'em count."

You huffed as Matt pulled his fingers out, earning you a proud and dangerous smirk. He gave you another sweet kiss as an apology.

"Sorry, angel. I don't make the rules," he reminded you.

Any disappointment you felt was soon replaced by the image of Matt sliding down the bed to get between your legs and pull them over his shoulders. Almost as an afterthought, he brought his hand up to his mouth to taste the palm you had drenched. As soon as his tongue touched his skin, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. His eyes darkened to look almost predatory, and he tightened his grip on your thighs. He glanced in Frank's direction, silently begging for his permission to proceed.

You didn't see Frank's approval, but you knew exactly when Matt got it because he dove into your cunt like it was a fucking desert oasis. In a lot of ways, it was. He wasted no time with teasing, instead shoving his tongue inside of you as deep as he could get it. Your vision went blurry as your eyes rolled back in your head. Grasping desperately at his hair, you pulled him harder against you until you were worried you would hurt him, but he barely seemed to notice.

He drew his tongue out to give your soaked pussy a few hungry licks, drinking up everything that dripped out of you. The wet noises he created with every suck or swipe of his tongue were enough to have your face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.

Feeling ignored, Frank grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a fervent kiss. He dislodged one of your hands from Matt's hair, guiding it over to rub at his clothed erection. You squeezed him through his pants, humming happily when you felt him twitch and grind up into your palm. Deftly, you undid his button and zipper, tugging his pants down just enough to slip your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. You didn't do anything else until he said it was okay.

"You want it, baby?" he murmured against your lips. You nodded, pushing your hand farther in, but you just barely managed to brush against it before he grabbed your wrist. He broke the kiss to look you in the eye, moving his hand from your jaw to gently hold your neck.

"You gotta use your words, sweetheart. You know that," he crooned.

"Please, can I touch it?" you sighed, moaning when Matt started stroking your clit again. Frank used his grip on your wrist to pull your hand deeper in until you could firmly grab his aching cock. You began tugging it slowly as it pulsed and hardened further in your grasp. You swiped the pad of your thumb over his slit and felt him drip onto your fingers, easing the glide of your palm.

You felt yourself getting close again when Matt stuffed his fingers back inside you and sucked hard at your clit. This time, no one stopped you from falling over the edge. You sobbed as your release rushed through you, tightening your thighs around Matt's head and your hand around Frank's cock. Matt groaned against you, savoring the scent and the taste of your satisfaction. Frank hissed at the added pressure, thrusting up into your fist which was slick with his precum.

The two men reluctantly pulled away from you as you came down from your high, giving you time to catch your breath. They returned to their positions on either side of you, stroking your hair or your shoulders as you refocused on reality.

"You were right," Matt announced, breathing almost as heavily as you were.

Frank smirked, looking over you to assess Matt's disheveled state. "Yeah? 'Bout what, exactly?" he asked.

"Everything," He admitted dreamily. To anyone who didn't know the effect you had on fortunate men, he might seem drunk or high. You supposed he kinda was.

"You were talking about me?" you whispered, hiding your face in Frank's neck. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

"I was just braggin' about how good you are, baby," he promised.

Matt laughed quietly at Frank's statement like it was an inside joke no one else would understand.

"He said a lot more than that," Matt disclosed to you. "He said you were the biggest slut he'd ever met. Honestly, he would not shut up about how tight you were, or how good you tasted. I thought he was exaggerating, but I think you just proved me wrong."

You smiled into Frank's shoulder, enjoying the attention. He tapped you lightly on the hip to get you to focus on him.

"I believe you were just given a compliment," he signaled.

Taking the hint, you rolled over to face Matt, angling his face towards you to give him a soft kiss as a thank you.

You looked down to where he was straining against the fabric of his suit. A small wet spot was becoming more visible at the tip of his swollen bulge. You caught yourself before you stared for too long, worried you might start salivating if you let your mind wander far enough.

"That looks uncomfortable," you pointed out. "You should probably take it off before it starts hurting you."

Matt agreed, standing up beside the bed to start stripping off his clothes. If he were dressed normally, you would offer to help, but you didn't even know where to begin with that thing.

"I'm sure she wants to return the favor," Frank advised Matt. "I'll go ahead get her stretched out while you use her mouth, alright?"

When Matt was in just his boxers, you tugged him back down to take your spot in the middle and climbed on top of him. Frank had stood up to finish taking off his own clothes, and when he was done, he kneeled behind you on the bed to get you in the right position.

You found yourself face-to-face with Matt's thinly veiled hard-on and your ass up high for Frank to take you from behind. He slid three of his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out a few times to see how relaxed you already were. As soon as you had freed Matt from his final barricade, Frank pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock inside you in one smooth thrust. You moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, wincing at the stretch but enjoying it nonetheless. Frank gave you a moment to gather your bearings before he began to move.

"Focus on him, baby. He's the one you're supposed to be paying attention to," Frank directed. That was easier said than done when you were being relentlessly fucked from behind, but you had been wanting to get your mouth on him for a while now, and you weren't gonna pass up the opportunity.

Now that you were seeing him in person, Matt's size was almost intimidating. You were glad Frank took it upon himself to stretch you out first, because you were sure you'd be feeling it in your stomach when it was time to switch. His head looked tight and angry, and you watched as a small bead of clear fluid welled out of the tip and ran down the side. You leaned in to catch it with your tongue, whining softly at the taste.

"There you go, sweetheart," Frank praised.

You licked a long stripe up the underside, stopping when you got to the top to suckle gently at the head. You wrapped your hand around the base to stroke him firmly as you focused on taking the first few inches comfortably. It was already stretching your mouth quite a bit and your jaw was aching from trying to force yourself down on it. Before long, your spit was dripping onto your fingers and sliding down to settle at the base, creating slick sounds as you tugged at his length.

You moaned around him when Frank gave a particularly pointed thrust, nailing your spot dead-on. Provoked by your reaction, he repeated the same motion until your eyes rolled back in your head and you could no longer focus on the task at hand.

"Come on, pretty girl. You can take more than that," Frank fussed. "If you want his help, you can ask for it. Don't be shy, baby."

You were reluctant to ask because you wanted to prove yourself to Matt, but you didn't think you would be able to take more on your own. Usually, you were pretty good relaxing your throat, but there was no way you could swallow even half of him without choking. If you wanted to make him feel good, you would need him to take over and force you to blow as much of him as he wanted.

You pulled off of his cock teasingly, hollowing out your cheeks on the way up and swirling your tongue around the tip. You gave it one more little kiss before resuming your strokes, looking up at him to see which motions garnered the best reactions.

"Please," you whined, using your other hand to guide his to your hair.

"Please what, sweet girl?" Matt asked, petting you gently where you placed his hand. You swallowed your pride, giving in completely to both of them. You no longer had anything to prove. You were ready to be used however they saw fit, not caring about anything except making them feel good.

"Please, fuck my mouth."

"Aww, is it too big for you?" Matt consoled, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Do you need my help, angel? You're already being fucked on one end, is that not enough?" he mocked, tightening his grip on your hair.

He knocked your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own so he could rub it across your lips. You opened your mouth for him, and he slowly pulled your head down, forcing you to take him in until you choked. He held you there for a moment, groaning and thrusting up into the wet heat of your mouth before letting you take a breath. He continued like that for a while, guiding your head up and down, forcing you to go deeper each time until you couldn't take anymore.

Behind you, Frank wedged a finger in beside his cock, grunting at the added friction. You gasped at the new stretch, your release slamming into you unexpectedly. You arched your back and pushed into the feeling as he deftly attacked your sweet spot. Frank grinned at your reaction, smacking your ass once to watch you jump and hear your muffled yelp.

"I'm just tryin' to get you loosened up. I didn't mean for you to like it that much, you slut," he teased affectionately. He slipped in another finger, curling them to tug gently at your entrance until he felt that you were ready.

He took his fingers away, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he slid his cock out too, leaving you completely empty. He left a sweet kiss at the base of your spine, letting you know you had done a good job, and moved around you to talk to Matt.

"She's ready for you, if you're interested," Frank informed cockily. He watched how Matt was thoroughly fucking your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with every thrust, pulling you down to meet him half-way. You were doing much better than Frank had expected you to. It looked like your mind was somewhere far away, and you were just letting Matt use your mouth as a cocksleeve.

He started slowing down his movements, letting you up further and further, until you were back to just sucking at his head while he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. Finally, he pulled you off of him with a soft, wet pop, edging out from under you so he could switch places with Frank. You whined at your sudden emptiness, burying your face in Frank's stomach as he took Matt's vacant spot.

"Is she always this desperate?" Matt asked, replacing Frank behind you. Frank laughed, caressing your head softly as you began mouthing and licking at his abs.

"Pretty much. Actually, she's doing better than she usually is. I think she's just upset that she didn't get you to finish."

"Really? She likes that part?"

"Oh, she loves it. Some days, she even asks me to pull out so I can come in her mouth. Ain't that right, baby?"

You nodded into his hip, sucking a dark bruise into his v-line.

"Why don't you go ahead and finish me off," Frank suggested to you. "I'm sure it'll make you feel better."

He grabbed himself around the base, enticingly pressing the wet head against the seam of your lips. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth and swallowed him all the way down. You moaned lowly, purring at the feeling of being able to take him comfortably down your throat. He wasn't small by any means, but he was more familiar and significantly less jaw-breaking that Matt.

"Fuck, baby," Frank groaned, tugging at your hair. You were content just to stay like that for a while, holding his heavy length on your tongue and feeling him subtly grind his tip against the back of your throat. With your head still, you could feel every little twitch and taste yourself in every drop that leaked down your throat.

"You wanna move at all?" Frank asked, his muscles tight with restraint. In response, you nuzzled your nose against his skin, swallowing around him in the hopes that he'd let you stay there.

"No? You just like having your sweet little holes filled, huh? That's fine, sugar. You don't have to move an inch, but I'm gonna need more than that if you wanna make me come. Do you wanna make me come, baby?"

You hummed your assent, the vibrations sending a shiver up Frank's spine.

"Then suck," he commanded, and you obeyed. You used as much suction as you could manage, creating a satisfying friction without all the typical motions. You teased the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue, listening to his quiet grunts as you drew him closer to the edge.

Behind you, Matt was listening to the sound of your wet cunt dripping onto the bedsheets. He kneaded your ass and thighs in his hands, ensuring that you were fully relaxed before trying to fuck you. Soon, he was nestling his cock between your soaked folds, lining himself up with your tight entrance.

He rubbed the small of your back as he began pushing himself in. He was met with an alarming amount of resistance, and he didn't even get the first inch in before you were clenching down around him and letting out a pained whimper. He pulled back, afraid he would tear something if he carried on.

"Frank, it's not gonna fit," Matt told him. Frank huffed, too busy chasing his own pleasure to think about problem-solving.

"It'll fit, just keep going," he reassured. "She likes the stretch. Hurry up and fuck her already."

"If I tried, I would break her," Matt warned. "Why don't we test out a different position?"

"Fine. Hang on for just a second."

Frank tightened his grip on your hair, whispering a quick apology before pulling you halfway off of him. He gave you no warning before he was slamming back in, forcing a surprised squeak out of your chest as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth. Barely a minute passed before Frank's thrusts grew sloppy and more desperate. His cock pulsed wildly against your tongue, and he let out a guttural groan as he came hard down your throat. You eagerly swallowed every drop that spilled out of him, waiting for him to soften a bit before releasing him from your mouth. Laving sweetly at the sides, you cleaned him up as best you could before he pushed your head away from oversensitivity.

"Alright," Frank mumbled, scooting over so you could take his spot in the middle. "On your back, baby."

You flipped over to face Matt, opening your legs so he could settle in between them.

"Pretty slut," he commended, leaning in to kiss you as he lined up with your needy hole once more. "We're gonna make it fit, alright? Don't you worry your cute little head about it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he began pushing his hips towards yours, his thick cockhead stretching you out obscenely. You winced at the pain, trying to force yourself to relax, but it wasn't working. Matt grunted at the vice grip you had on him, but he didn't advance further until he felt you could handle more.

From beside you, Frank played with your hair and kissed your neck in all your favorite spots until he had taken your mind off the pain. When Matt felt you unclench, he gave you another inch, once again stopping to allow you time to adjust. He continued on like that for a while, feeding his cock into your pussy in small increments until he was completely buried inside you.

As soon as the pain subsided, feeling something that deep was absolutely incredible. You felt yourself get wetter when you realized you could just barely make out the outline of his length poking through your tummy. It was evident to both of you from the very start that this wasn't gonna last long.

"Holy shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Matt groaned, starting a series of very shallow thrusts to get you used to the feeling. "This is what you were made for, sweetheart. You feel so fuckin' good," he praised. Slowly, he began picking up speed, fucking you harder and deeper like he couldn't control it anymore. You felt so full, you figured it was a miracle that he was even able to get half-way in. You couldn't stop the noises that Matt punched out of you with every heightened thrust. Because of his immense size, there was never a moment when he wasn't rubbing directly against your most sensitive areas.

Matt could sense that you were getting close, and he knew he wouldn't be far behind you. He started snapping his hips into yours impossibly harder, spurred on by the prospect of your impending release.

"You gonna come on my cock, angel? It's okay, you can come," Matt encouraged. He heard you cry out and smelled the sudden spike in your arousal. He knew he had you right on the edge. "Come for me sweetheart," he breathed.

You almost screamed as you came, your body arching up off the bed, every muscle tightening and trembling as your pleasure coursed through them. Matt cursed at the feeling of your walls clenching and fluttering around him. He let out a subdued moan as he fucked into you three more times before coming deep inside you. You felt the comforting warmth dripping down your thighs when he slipped out and collapsed on the bed beside you.

When you came down from your high, the night's exertion finally caught up with you. You cuddled into Frank's chest, and he pulled you closer, murmuring to you about how good you were for them. Matt slotted his body into place behind yours, leaving kisses on the back of your neck and stroking your side gently.

"Thank you," he whispered, and before you could respond, he was already asleep. You were about to follow suit, but a thought popped into your head, keeping you awake.

"Is this gonna be a one-time-thing?" you asked Frank, opening your eyes to see his face. He didn't seem surprised by your question. Honestly, he seemed like he'd been expecting it.

"It doesn't have to be," he responded. "If he's ever up for it again, I'd be fine with it."

You nodded, closing your eyes again and starting to drift off to sleep. You passed out in less than a minute, but not before you heard Frank say something that, in the morning, you thought must have been a dream. Nevertheless, it was nice to pretend it was real.

"I love you, baby."

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#frank castle fanfiction #punisher #frank castle smut #frank castle #frank castle x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal smut #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock smut #charlie cox #frank castle x matt murdock x reader

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yok00k · 27 days

Text

seasons: pink

seasons_m.list

pairing: p.sunghoon x acubi!oc

genre: fluff, drabble

summary: shopping w/ sunghoon

warning: too sweet!

word count: 919

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“Earth to sunghoon??” you say, waving your hand in front of your boyfriend’s face, who’s been zooming out for a while. he’s all dressed up and ready to go since ages ago. meanwhile, you take at least two hours to get ready and have more than five steps of skincare routine plus some makeup. he did everything that he could possibly do to not get bored while waiting for you.

walk back and forth from the living room to your bedroom more than 50 times? check. water the plant sitting on the most random spots of your apartment? check. pet and play with coco, your tiny shih tzu dog? check. yet he’s still ended up sitting up at the edge of your bed, staring at the air.

you further try to get his attention by planting a few kisses on his left cheek, which leaves an easily noticeable lip tint stain on his smooth skin. resulting in your sudden action, he moves from his frozen state.

sunghoon blinks twice, bringing himself out from detaching himself to reality. “you ready?” he asks, clearing his voice while examining your cute all-white outfit, which matches his all-black casual attire. he also notices the makeup you put on today, a simple ‘igari’ style makeup that highlights lots of rose pink blush on your soft cheeks.

cute, totally his type

“yes! thanks for waiting for me” you respond with full energy. of course he’ll wait for you. no matter how long he has to wait for. it’s not like he could just leave you and execute today's plan all by himself. he wouldn’t leave you alone. even if he has an option to. in addition to that, he loves spending a solid quality time with you.

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since warm weather is slowly approaching , the today’s plan is to shop around for summer clothes. you two have been planning on going to one of the few nicest outdoor outlets around. the only downside is it’s a couple of hours drive. but they have everything you could possibly look for: cute stores, high quality clothing stores, nice bakeries and bubble tea shops, and many more. for that reason, you are willing to be in the car for two hours. this is your idea after all.

the first thing you knock out of your to-do list as you arrive you destination is to grab a refreshing bubble tea. after that, you and sunghoon began roaming around. your wrist acts to its second nature as it automatically entangled with his. sunghoon isn’t really a fan of pda, but he wouldn’t mind having his hand intertwined with yours. he actually enjoys it a lot, but he would never ever admit it or say it out loud.

today is such a bright day.

in the midst of walking in the open air mall, sunghoon confusedly turns his head when you abruptly come to a halt, followed by hearing a loud gasp from you. he’s about to ask what’s wrong but as soon as he looks at what you’re staring at, he understands right away. you lead the way quickly towards the front of the store.

“i’ll just see what they have inside real quick, I won’t take that long” you reassure him, grabbing a mini basket, just in case you end up buying something tiny. he just follows and stays right behind you like a lost puppy.

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there’s no such thing as “real quick” especially when shopping with you. and sunghoon knows that for a fact. he’s even surprised that it only took you 40 minutes to roam around that small store given the fact that you love examining every cute thing the store sells. you would ask for his opinion here and there, only for you to return the items back because you don’t really need those things. still, you’re pleased by how pretty they look. after looking at every product, you ended up only buying two things: a couple of decent size miffy night lamps. one for you and one for him.

“look, I got one for you!” you mutter, swinging the paper bag in front of him.

“for me?” he asks dumbfoundedly, he didn’t even realized that you bought two of the same item. you reply with a nod. “yup, they’re the same thing so we can match” you explain, wrapping your hands to his arm as you proceed to your next stop. before he could even react, he’s being dragged by you elsewhere.

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“this one, this one, this one..” you mumble to yourself, fully concentrating on picking oversized t-shirt that would look good on sunghoon. so far you have three different color of shirts in your hand. a sky blue, white, and light pink. he typically dislikes pink but it would look great on him.

“try these on, I will look for more” you softly instruct him as you handle the clothes.

“pink?” he utterly baffles, not liking the idea of trying on the particular shirt.

“trust me, it’ll look good on you”

sunghoon is about to disagree, but he chooses not to. he’s in love you to the point where he’s going to do whatever you ask him to do, even if it’s against his liking as such color of a damn shirt. he won’t listen to anyone. but he’s willing to listen to you.

he ended up trying it. it wasn’t as bad he thought it would be. maybe wearing pink isn’t that bad, solely because the girl he loves says so.

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a/n: i’m making a series of this couple<33

#sunghoon fic #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #enhypen imagines #sunghoon ff #enhypen sunghoon #kpop imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon x you

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thewulf · 6 months

Text

Adorably Clueless || Steve Harrington

Summary: Request - So everyone rags on Steve for being stupid right so here’s the idea the reader who is pretty smart acts clueless about a lot of things and asks Steve for help because they don’t like the way the others jokingly call him stupid all the time... Read Rest Here

A/N: We’re pretending Robin and Steve are friends their senior year of high school, everything is moved up a year. Dustin and co are in eighth grade and reader/Steve/Robin/Nancy are seniors. K thanks <3Thank you for the request @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Y/N

Word Count: 3.5k +

“Can I have a ride to school?” Dustin asked as you slid into the seat next to him running a bit behind this morning. You’d taken a little extra time to make sure you looked a little bit nicer than normal. Steve was around. He was always around. And you’d be lying if you didn’t say you had a little crush on him. You and every girl in Hawkins that was.

You quirked your eyes up to him while pouring the remaining orange juice into your glass, “No Harrington this morning?” Asking inquisitively. Steve had been picking Dustin up early the last few days throwing you out of your normal rhythm with the middle schooler.

He shook his head quickly, “No, we finished that project.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Rolling your eyes, you put the bacon and eggs your mom had made up onto your plate in a hurry, “Yeah, sure. Not like I have to go anywhere else.” You snickered knowing Dustin had to walk down the hill to the middle school, you couldn’t be bothered to drop him off then park.

Your mom sighed gathering the attention of both you and your brother, “I’m glad you’re driving him again, Y/N.” She smiled at you giving your hand a pat.

You frowned almost immediately at that comment, “Why? Steve’s perfectly fine at driving him.”

She gave you a tight-lipped smile knowing how you were. You weren’t going to back down from a fight, you never did, “Well, you know what they say.” She chuckled looking at Dustin who simply gave her the same look of confusion.

Shaking your head quickly you deadpanned at her, “I actually don’t mom. Enlighten me, will you?” You snapped back feeling all the irritation bubbling to the surface. Of course, you knew what they said about Steve. He was dumb. He was irresponsible. He would never get out of Hawkins. Blah blah blah. You might’ve believed that in the past but no longer was that the case. After you saw how he treated your younger brother you saw him in an entirely new light. Steve was kind. Steve was sweet. Steve was beyond thoughtful. You were crushing hard on the boy. And you’d done a pretty damn good job at hiding it. Right up until now. You were definitely giving it away now. Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of your head told you so.

She gave another quick, nervous laugh before clearing Dustin’s plate, “He’s just trouble sweetheart.”

“Typical.” You grumbled feeling annoyed as hell by your mother’s dismissal of the sweet man you’d observed over the last few months.

Dustin looked over at you giving you a curious look. You were usually mouthy with your parents but never pushed it too far. This was pushing it beyond what he was used to. And for Steve? He thought that was odd. Especially for you. He’d learned almost everything from you. You were analytical. Smart. Only spoke up when you knew you were right. Why were you defending Steve Harrington so boldly?

“What’s that honey?” She asked turning back to the two of you.

“You of all people shouldn’t believe the gossip. Thought you told us not to judge a book by its cover mother?” Refusing to look at either of them you decided on staring at the plate in front of you.

Her nervous smile gave it all away, “Sure. Now, off you go. Don’t want to be late to school now do we kids?”

You frowned annoyed as hell by the utter dismissal of the conversation. Oh, so typical. Rolling your eyes, you stood not even attempting to clear your plate, “Come on Dusty. We’ve got some learning to do.” You didn’t wait before grabbing your backpack and keys and walking out the front door without so much as a goodbye. Dustin followed quickly yelling a goodbye leaving a very quiet house for a very mouthy woman to deal with.

When Dustin jumped into the passenger seat of your old sedan you looked over at him. He was giving you the weirdest look. Studying you, “What?” You asked deciding to do your seatbelt instead of looking at him. You couldn’t look at him. No, that’d actually give you away.

“What was that about?” He asked not deciding to hold it back.

“What was what about?” You played dumb. It was so much easier. So, so much easier than explaining a stupid little crush that’d go absolutely nowhere.

He shook his head leaning back into the seat, “Steve? You’ve never mentioned his name before. Now you’re yelling at mom over breakfast about him? Thanks for that by the way.” He smiled knowing you’d always have his back.

You shrugged while backing out of the driveway, “I don’t know… You like him. He fills a gap I can’t fill. So why shouldn’t I defend him?” Trying to play it off you were thankful you had a reason to keep your eyes forward and on the road.

He nodded his head not fully believing you as his eyes narrowed in on you, observing you, “Sure, Y/N. That’s all.”

You nod quickly not daring to look over at your overly observant brother. Weren’t boys supposed to be clueless? Why was every single one of them clueless except Dustin? Of course, your brother wasn’t defective like a majority of the male population, “Yup. That’s all Dustin.”

The rest of the ride was nearly silent as Dustin sat there staring at you. He wasn’t going to give it up and neither were you. So, silence it was. When you parked the car in the lot you turned to him, “Not a word is mentioned of this morning to him. Do you need a ride home?”

Dustin smirked. The little fucker smirked. He unbuckled his seat belt and gave you the biggest grin, “Can’t guarantee that and nope. Steve is driving me home. We’re doing some investigating after school.”

You shook your head, “For once. Keep your big mouth shut. What are you even investigating? It’s Hawkins.” Giving him a curious glance, you stepped out of the worn-down vehicle trying not to be too late to class.

He jumped out of the car mimicking your actions, “Again, can’t guarantee that dear sister. And exactly. It’s Hawkins, there’s lots to investigate.” He grabbed his backpack before turning off to head down towards the middle school, “I’ll be back late, let mom know.” He waved knowing it was best to not give you the last word. Whatever. You’d cover for him like you always did. Steve was good for him. Just like Mike, Lucas and Will. It was never lost on you how you were always a touch jealous of your younger brothers ability to make true friendships. You’d only had one true friend. Thankfully, she was in most of your classes. You’d have gone insane have to deal with this whole high school thing alone.

As Steve got to know Dustin more you got to know him a little better too. It got under your skin how everybody so casually called him dumb or stupid. He was neither. He just played a part. A part you were easily able to see behind. He was his true authentic self around your brother, at your house. You’d caught him talking nerdy with your brother and asking questions somebody dumb would never. Steve was a master at his craft. An illusionist who needed to be the center of attention. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure that part of him out. For that you’d have to have a real-life conversation. One you often shied away from. Little did you know Steve was determined to get that conversation out of you, Dustin’s far too shy older sister. The girl he’d been crushing on since his split with Nancy.

He knew he was a goner the first time he really saw the real you. You were arguing with your mom, something he’d learned was commonplace in your household. He was amazed by your ability to express your words. You so flawlessly got your point across in a way he’d never seen. You were in his classes, but he’d never really seen you before. You were beautiful. Especially once your younger brother talked you up without even realizing it. He’d started to fall for you without even having a proper conversation. He wasn’t going to give up though. He wasn’t planning on going to Dustin, but he was starting to run through all his options. Every time he tried to dive in a little bit deeper you gave him that deer in headlights look. A look of knowing he was pushing the boundaries a little too hard. He’d back off. But then he got absolutely nowhere with you. Until you started coming to him for little things. You’d ask him a math question, one you’d obviously know the answer too, but one you knew he knew the answer to as well. Something to boost his confidence. For even you knew he heard the snide remarks about his intelligence. He was human too.

In English you’d ask him a silly grammar rule. In Phys Ed you asked him how to correctly shoot the basketball even though you’d been taught a thousand times over by Dustin and his know-it-all friends. In Spanish you’d ask him a simple question, beaming with pride when he answered back correctly. Little by little you tried to help him in the smallest of ways.

He was doomed, doomed from your sweetness. You’d taken his heart without the simplest of clues to doing so. He was trying to give you all the signs, the signs that showed he was incredibly interested in everything you had to offer. But you were clueless. Absolutely clueless to it all. For as smart as you are you were oblivious to him right in front of you. If he couldn’t figure it out soon he’d have to go to Dustin to get to you. He’d gotten the sense that only Dustin could talk some reason into you.

You’d been a pro at avoiding Steve at school that day. He hadn’t a clue as to why you were being so elusive. You were far too aware of your feelings to even try and approach a semi-normal conversation with the man. Avoiding him was your best option.

“You’re acting weird Y/N.” Kelly, your best friend, said as she spotted your eyes darting the cafeteria at lunch, “Been acting weird all day.”

“No, I haven’t Kel.” Speaking back in an instant you turned your full attention back to her.

A smirk that was eerily similar to Dustin’s danced on her lips as she watched you. Everybody seemed keen on your actions today, “In fact, you’ve been acting a little off ever since a certain Harrington has become friends with your very own brother. Peculiar.”

You rolled your eyes rather dramatically at your friend, “Look at you, jumping to conclusions.”

“You’ve been avoiding him all day Y/N.” She said matter of factly.

Shaking your head, “No…”

“You literally made Mandy trade seats with you in Chemistry today. I don’t want to hear it.” She cut you off.

“You’re annoying.” You sighed.

“And you’re being avoidant. The usual hey?” She grinned knowing she had you there. This was totally your style.

“Whatever Kelly.” Looking away your eyes went wide seeing Steve and his very own best friend, Robin, walking your way, “Gotta go talk to Mrs. Pace about my grade. I’ll see you later?” You stood quickly and ran off before she could even reply. When you turned back you saw the three of them conversing, talking about who knows what. You. They were talking about you.

When you heard the front door open and close you’d assumed Dustin was alone. Your parents were out for a dinner date with another couple they’d been friends for years with. Being miserably bored you were thrilled when you’d heard him come home. Having somebody to annoy made you far too giddy.

“There you are!” Yelling from the top of the stairs you skidded to a complete stop seeing not only your brother but his much taller and much more handsome friend standing in the kitchen with him.

All too pleased with himself he gave you a head nod, “Y/N. Steve’s going to stay for dinner.” He didn’t ask, he stated.

“Sure, I’ll just be up in my room…”

He cut you off grabbing at your arm, “No, I know you haven’t eaten. Sit.” He sounded weirdly like your father.

“I already…” You tried but again he cut you off.

“No, you haven’t. The plate is untouched. Your water is still at the table. Sit.” He pointed to your usual chair. He had you there. He was too damn observant. Only Dustin.

You glared at him but sat down next to Steve who looked all too happy to be sitting there with the two of you. Not even you could lie, he was damn adorable sitting there kicking his feet watching the two siblings bicker back and forth.

Dustin set down two plates in front of you and Steve, “I just remembered. I was supposed to call Mike at 7! We’re supposed to be doing Mr. Ryan’s homework.” He rambled before running off upstairs.

“Dustin?” You called feeling a growing irritation for your meddling younger brother. The little shit just left you to fend for yourself with Steve fucking Harrington? What the fuck?

“Kids a trip.” Steve smiled over at you hoping it’d calm your nerves a bit. He knew you were nervous for some reason. He was anything but intimidating, or so he thought.

Your face broke into a grin knowing his motives. He was a trip, that one was for sure, “You could say that again.” Defeated, you grabbed at your fork knowing you couldn’t really just leave him sitting in your kitchen. Dustin would quite literally kick your ass if you did that.

He nodded his head in agreement, “Your brother is pretty great too. Never thought I’d enjoy spending so much time with a literal kid.” He snickered knowing the optics of the situation were less than stellar.

Finally, you looked at him. And Jesus, was he stunning. It wasn’t fair. He was so damn attractive and then he was so damn kind? Dustin was setting you up, “He get it from somewhere.” You agreed with him while nodding your head.

Steve’s smile grew even wider as he let out a hearty laugh, “He told me you were funny.”

Eyebrows raised you replied, “He did?”

“Yup.” He scooted a tad closer to you. All too thrilled you were finally entertaining a conversation with him, “He says a lot of good things about you.”

Without even realizing it you bit your lip slightly. A little habit Steve had noticed in school as he watched you a bit closer this year. It happened when you were thinking. When your mind was reeling, “Dusty’s the sweetest younger brother. I’m lucky.”

“Well, he’s got a pretty great older sister he watches all the time.” Steve said so casually you weren’t positive if you were hearing

Your eyes snapped back over to his suddenly very aware of why you avoided these conversations. Your cheeks were absolutely ablaze feeling like you could cook an egg off your face it was so hot, “

He smirked, “What? No comeback? He says your infamous for those. And I’d tend to agree. You schooled Mr. Clark the other day.”

Biting back a smile you rolled your eyes, “Dustin has a lot of opinions about me, hmm?”

He leaned forward feeling brazen, “You’re right. Enough about him. More about you.” His chair scooted just a bit closer. He was bold, you gave him that.

“Me?” Your face had to be as red as a tomato now.

“You heard me.”

Trying to be just a bit brave you continued, “Well, what about me?”

His chair inched ever so much closer. Your heart was racing at an uncomfortable pace as he opened his mouth, “Tell me something about you sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Sweetheart. Damn, that made your already racing heart explode, “What do you wanna know?” It was a whisper. God, you were pathetic. He made you pathetic. A pathetic bumbling mess, “I hate chicken nuggets. I think they’re disgusting.” You said the first thing that came to your thoughtless mind.

He didn’t give you any time to be embarrassed though. He let out a snort before full on laughing, “Chicken nuggets? Really?”

You nodded quickly defending yourself, “I just… I just don’t think chicken should come that way. Not natural.”

He snickered shaking his head but moving his chair even closer. He was almost on top of you now. Surly, he could hear your racing heart, “You’re a trip too, Henderson.”

“Hopefully you mean that in a good way.”

His smile should’ve given you the hint. But you were clueless. Absolutely clueless, “In the best way.”

The two of you were so into the moment you didn’t hear the younger version of you walk down the stairs. To be fair, it had been twenty minutes. He’d just been sitting in his room bored to death and couldn’t take it anymore. So, he walked down the steps. When he walked into the kitchen he’d expected to find the two of you bickering. Just like he and Steve did. But he found the opposite. The two of you… enamored with each other?

He couldn’t hide the small smile creeping up on his lips. He’d all but gotten a confession out of Steve that he liked you. And he wasn’t dumb, you liked him. So, this was meant to happen, right? Plus, if the two of you were together then Steve would be over all the time. A win, win.

But he was bored, your love could blossom another time, “What’d I miss?” He spoke up. You nearly jumped from your seat. Steve scooted away in a hurry.

“Dustin!” You whisper shouted, startled by his sudden presence.

“Son of a…” Steve muttered while glaring at the younger boy.

Dustin gave him a devious smirk, “What was that Steve?”

“He likes you; you know.” Robin set her bag down next to yours on the ground. She plopped down in the seat next to you in the wide-open library.

You looked up from the homework you were working on, “Hmm?”

“Steve. He likes you. Hard.”

Shaking your head, you decided on giving her your full attention, “No, no he doesn’t. I think I’d notice if he liked me.”

She snorted lightly, “You’re adorable. Adorably clueless. He likes you Henderson.”

“Then he’ll tell me himself.” You said so assuredly you weren’t expecting her reply.

“You’re right. He will.” And before you could reply Robin was off as soon as she had sat down.

Before you could focus back on your homework and ignore the weird interaction with the girl you’d come to adore from afar somebody else was in the seat she had just occupied.

When you looked up and spotted him your weak little heart started racing once more, “Steve, what’re you doing here?”

“Here to tell you something.” He smiled leaning back in the chair.

Robin? Robin was written all over this. He couldn’t actually like you. It was more of a thing to say to get her to shut the hell up. But now… now Steve might actually admit something.

“What’s that?”

He kept quiet until you looked up at him. He smiled gently at you. Trying his darndest not to freak you out, “That I like you.”

“You like me?” You asked back so quickly he was sure you hadn’t really processed it.

“Yes,” He nodded quickly, “I like you. A lot.”

“Me?”

He grabbed at your hand, “You.”

“You’re sure?” You couldn’t believe him. No. Not until he confirmed it at least twenty times.

“Positive.” He gave your hand a squeeze trying his best to keep you grounded in reality. Not stuck in that pretty little head of yours.

“Oh.” You’d finally processed his words. He liked you. Damn, he liked you?

“Hopefully that’s a good, oh.” He mirrored your words from earlier on in the week.

A small smile came to your lips, “Yeah, it is… but…” You paused not sure how to ask the question that was itching at the back of your head.

“But?”

“But you’ve never seemed interested.”

He let out a quiet laugh, “Robin was right, you are adorably clueless.”

You gave him a fake pout, “Hey now.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t say it wasn’t cute. It’s adorable. You’re adorable sweetheart.” He grabbed at your other hand, holding both of your much smaller hands in his.

“Hey Steve?” You said after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“I like you too. I like you a lot.” You bobbed your head up and down.

“Tell me then, what do you say? We’ve got a problem and I’ve got a solution. I’m taking you out Friday evening. On a proper date.” Steve proposed looking all too hopefully at you.

You grinned, “I think that sounds like a great plan.”

He let out a small sigh of relief, “Finally, it’s a date my dear.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

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aswaki · 2 months

Text

mile high club privilege [smt x reader]

seok matthew x reader | 1.8k word count | explicit (minors dni)

“a flight attendant gets fucked at the airplane's bathroom”

contains: fem!reader, stewardess/flight attendant!reader, dom!matthew, unprotected sex, (airplane) bathroom sex, breath play (gagging), backshots, sir kink, slight strength kink, first meeting sex/strangers theme, mention of blow job & cunnilingus, pet names ("baby", "good girl")

“did you mean it when you said ‘anything’?”

you turned around to see it was the man from the business class. he was attractive. he smiled at you charmingly that you clearly missed the mischievous glint his eyes held.

“yes, sir. it is my job to ensure your flight is as relaxing and pleasurable as possible.” you told him with a slight nod of your head.

he hummed in acknowledgement. while the stranger was hot, you had a job to do. you continued walking down the aisle to head to your station. as you went, you made sure the passengers were okay by checking in and giving professional greetings.

footsteps behind you could be heard. was he following you? you inhaled to keep your irritation at bay before facing him again. you were taught how to deal with vexing travelers.

“sir, i suggest you head back to your seat. you can’t stro-”

“ah, i actually need to go to the toilet. can you lead the way there, please?” he cut you off. he said that while slightly leaning forward towards you. his voice was oh so innocent that it made you none the wiser. you were completely missing what his intention was with you.

“apologies,” you started.

‘bathroom, of course, where else would he go? stress was probably clouding your judgement,’ you concluded in your mind.

this was your third international flight consecutively so exhaustion must be catching up to you. you just hoped you wouldn’t get a complaint for appearing rude but the stranger seemed nice.

“sure, sir. i’d be happy to assist you. follow me,” you continued, hiding your embarrassment well.

his soft brown eyes locked into yours before drifting down. he was appreciating how your uniform fit you like a glove. no curve left hidden in your two piece ensemble. you even had a little scarf tied around your neck. cute.

and he followed you like you suggested. you lead the way while his gaze was trained on your ass.

once reaching your destination, you opened your mouth to bid farewell. before you could, he pulled you inside the toilet with him. though not by much, international planes had larger toilets so you were both able to fit inside. not comfortably, but you could make do.

he backed you to the bathroom wall.

“anything, right?” he reminded you before smirking. without any precedent, he crashed his lips onto yours.

this stranger kissed like he was devouring you. he had the intensity of a man in hunger. when you gasped in disbelief, it made it easier for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

disbelief be damned, though; you melted into him, needing no prompting to follow his lead. he wasn’t the only one who was hungry. your tongue glided along his, not fighting for dominance but dancing with him. this was going to give you some relief.

everything he said up to this point occurred to you that he was flirting. you were so out of it. you weren’t even sure when your hands found its way to be tangled in his hair or when his hand found its way to be underneath your panties, fingers finding your wet cunt and also putting pressure on your throbbing clit. your eyes instinctively fluttered shut as he played with your clit. the ecstasy that hit you made your toes curl in your shoes. he knew how to work you to your arousal.

“so, how does one get a membership at the mile high club?” he asked, breaking off your kiss. a string of saliva connected your mouths. his free hand went to tug the scarf around your neck. this little action had you feeling crazy. you wished he would pull it tighter to choke you.

“it’s simple, sir.” you said, suddenly bolder. your eyes heavy lidded. the confidence in your voice made him raise his brows in surprise. he dared himself not to groan out loud. instead, he rubbed on your clit a little bit rougher which made you hold on to his shoulders. his muscles tensed under your touch. you relished that feeling.

calling him sir almost had him cumming.

digging your finger in his shoulders, you shakily stood on your tiptoes to whisper seductively in his ear, “just get me to orgasm.”

taking that as a challenge, he twisted your bodies so he could push you to the counter. he bent you over there without warning. your stomach pressed onto the edge of the sink.

“s- sir,” you weren’t stingy with the moans you let out. he watched your beautiful face contort intently through the mirror above the sink countertop.

“shh, baby. not so loud.” he cooed while running his hands from your clothed ass to your thighs. he then put your scarf to good use. he unraveled it before stuffing it in your mouth.

“we don’t want to be caught.” he explained as he tied the ends of the scarf behind your head.

“yes, sir,” you mumbled through the makeshift gag. as he tightened the scarf, you thought about the consequences you would get if you were caught fucking with a passenger. you were so lost in your arousal that these thoughts flew out your mind as soon as it entered, however.

you cannot stop this. you were trained to serve. your body moved on its own having a different master to listen to.

the sound of a belt unbuckling could be heard. a deep pool of excitement brewed inside of you as you listened to the stranger pull his pants and boxers down his legs. his fingers hastily unzipped your skirt, making it fall. your panties and stockings soon followed the clothes bundling on the ground.

you extended your legs open for him so he can have easier access to you. still, he smacked your ass and spread your ass cheeks a bit wider. there was a sting that stayed on your ass from his slap which made whimpers bubble out of you.

he rubbed his erection against you. you could feel he was big. you wondered if you could handle him. he coated his cock with your arousal before lining himself up to your entrance. the buttons on your uniform blouse dug painfully itself to your stomach.

“be my good girl and take it, yeah?” his voice became low. how he said those words made your skin prickle with goosebumps.

you moaned as he entered you. his girth stretching you out. he didn’t waste a second to thrust in you harshly. you both knew you had occupied the bathroom long enough. someone was bound to come looking for either of you.

tears gathered in your eyes as he pounded in you, chasing your pleasures as fast as possible. it didn't help you were gagged at the mouth. you tried gasping for air, feeling a little light-headed as he gave it his all. the tip of his cock hitting your cervix with every hard thrust he did.

he lifted your head by grabbing your hair, “look at you being a mess, baby. you like being used?”

maybe you did like being used. in the deepest part of you, it was almost like you knew your body found pleasure in letting go and submitting. your enjoyment in being gagged was a testament to it.

in the mirror, you could see how your usually sleek hair was now untidy. your eyes were watery but the mascara was still intact. thank god for waterproof make up. though, your red lipstick was smudged. it was even on the face of this handsome stranger.

you checked him out as he thrusts in you, losing almost control over himself. he had a strong defined nose and jawline. his biceps strained against the sleeve of his shirt. his one hand holding your head steady so you could face the mirror.

his jawline clenched as he slammed his cock to you like a wild animal. you engulfed every little bit of him around your damp cunt walls. the breaths coming from the two of you, ragged and heavy. the clapping from behind were louder than your pants for air.

“holy shit,” he groaned through gritted teeth when you clenched around him. he can feel you were about to cum (and so was he). his cock pulsed while the familiar feeling of an oncoming climax built inside him.

“let’s cum together, baby.”

as if his words gave you permission to, you climaxed along with him. your sounds were being muffled by the scarf in your mouth. he wished he could hear your pretty moans.

his cock was being squeezed by your muscles as if you were milking him. the feeling of his warmth flooded your inner walls triggered more of your orgasm. your fluids mixed with one another. the both of you defiling the cramped space.

this was by far the most exciting thing that happened to you while on the job. it awoke your spirit. this was a different type of exhaustion that washed over you. it was a sinful kind that you found delectable. your body shook but his arm came to clutch around your torso to pull you up against his chest. his strength saving you both.

you writhed in his grip as you both rode out your orgasms. his arm took great pleasure in holding you. he held you as close to himself as possible.

when you went limp, he undid the scarf in your mouth. it joined to the pile by your feet.

you took a large breath, inhaling as much as you could after being gagged. your voice sounded hoarse from unuse as you told him, “it’s my pleasure to welcome you to the mile high club, sir.”

“i hope you enjoyed your flight at in bloom airlines, gentlemen!” you told a group of nine men as they approached near the door. your perfectly lined red lips gave them a grin. customer service was your specialty.

they all replied to you various forms of thanks for the flight's smooth travel and your service. you locked eyes with the one who you got more acquainted than the rest. the one you snuck off to the toilet too many times for the span of your flight.

you entertained yourselves with your bodies. an exclusive amenity just for him. a mile high club privilege. anything he wanted— backshots, blow jobs, cunnilingus —you did all that but you didn't even get his name. he was just ‘sir’.

another kind of smile suddenly threatened to break out of your face; one that held a secret behind it.

he sent you a wink, “best i ever had.”

a/n: inspired by zb1 traveling to hong kong for kcon!!! i hope you enjoyed reading this. i didn't get much fics as i wanted to last week so i hope i can post more for this one but i think i might get busier. not sure, though! i do enjoy being here— writing and interacting. thank you for sticking by and reading through!

divider credit: saradika-graphics

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theheartbreakprincesss · 2 months

Text

red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

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mikavlcs · 1 year

Text

Rebels and Renegades

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.

Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc

Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)

Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.

See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.

Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.

This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.

It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.

The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.

But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.

Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.

You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).

Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it.

Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever.

Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.

Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…

You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.

It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.

So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.

Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.

You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.

Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.

“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”

The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.

Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.

Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.

You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”

You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.

For fun.

Again, you nodded. You could respect that.

“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.

Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.

Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.

You pointed to him below. “How about him?”

Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.

The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.

“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”

He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.

Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.

The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.

Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.

It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.

Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.

For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.

Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.

Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.

The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.

“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”

He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.

“Wednesday Addams?!”

Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.

“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”

His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.

You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”

He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.

“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”

Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”

Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.

The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.

It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.

“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”

Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.

Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”

She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.

“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”

Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.

“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”

Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.

“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”

Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”

Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.

“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”

Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.

“Be back at the dorm by 7.”

With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.

Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”

Thing said nothing.

You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!

But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.

Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.

First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.

Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.

Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.

Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.

And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.

Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.

She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.

Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.

So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?

You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.

And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.

At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.

Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.

Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.

The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.

“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”

He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.

“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”

He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.

The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.

But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?

The results though, were much more interesting.

For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.

Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.

Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.

“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.

She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.

“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”

Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”

Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.

“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.

You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.

Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.

“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.

It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?

Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.

You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”

The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.

“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”

Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.

“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.

Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”

Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.

“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”

Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.

You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.

You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.

Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.

Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.

Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.

There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.

You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.

“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”

“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.

“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.

“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.

“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.

“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”

Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”

A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.

“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.

“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”

The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.

“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”

Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”

You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.

“Uh—”

“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”

The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.

So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.

Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.

“So I just…”

You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.

Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.

Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.

“Holy shit!”

“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”

“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”

You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”

Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.

Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.

Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.

Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.

“Is this what you stole?”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”

Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”

She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.

“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”

You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”

She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.

“No.”

“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”

Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”

Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.

“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.

Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.

Why had she let you come anyways?

There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.

And yet, she had allowed you to come along.

Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.

It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.

And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.

The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.

Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.

“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”

Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.

Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.

“I don’t hate you.”

She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.

“I despise you. There’s a difference.”

Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.

She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.

Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.

“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.

At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.

Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.

She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.

As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”

“Correct.”

That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.

“What do you say we get a little revenge?”

“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.

You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”

You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.

Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.

Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.

Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.

Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.

However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.

A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.

A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.

She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.

(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?

She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)

Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.

Part of her didn’t want to anyway.

Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.

“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.

Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.

“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”

“A thesaurus?”

You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”

“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”

“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”

Your smile widened.

Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”

“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”

She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.

The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.

Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.

It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.

Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.

You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).

Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.

An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.

Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.

Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.

As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.

In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.

Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.

Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.

That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.

As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.

And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close).

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega #quality is 2/10 but fun factor is 9/10 #at least for me idk

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