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yournecessaryevil · 11 months

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☆These Games We Play☆

🖤 CHRIS MOTIONLESS X READER ONESHOT 🖤

Summer has officially started, and to kick off the season before their tour, Ricky's decided to throw a party for you and the guys at his place. But you decide to test Chris's patience halfway through the party, and... he isn't having any of it. Then again, maybe that'll work in your favor...

• NSFW; Daddy kink; adult themes (Dom/Sub relationship); fluff; language

☠️ TAGLIST: @synthetic-wasp-570 @darigyu @veroxbarnes @nixwolfe

Summer.

It was the one season people looked forward to the most, a season holding the promise of adventure and other good things to come.

And oh, were there ever so many good things to come for you this time of year. You were getting ready to embark on yet another tour with your boyfriend and his bandmates, and this was sure to be the best one, yet.

But that time wouldn't arrive for at least another two weeks, so to kick off the season (and to give you and everyone else a chance to unwind and take some time off), Ricky had decided to host a backyard gathering at his place.

You had immediately taken a liking to the idea; a break from the stress of touring was much needed, not just for you. Everyone had been rather on edge lately, despite the good show they were all putting on to hide it.

No, today would be a day to just relax, unwind, and share some good laughs... and maybe something else, too. You and Chris were as close as ever, but lately you'd been feeling rather... neglected, if you were being perfectly honest. You knew he couldn't help it, his music was one of the most important things to him, it was what drove him, he needed it.

But lately, you'd been really needing him.

The two of you had a rather unconventional relationship when it came to the bedroom. He had a bit of a dominant streak, not that you minded, of course. You yourself were known to be kind of a brat both in and out of the sheets, something that drove him utterly crazy in all the right ways.

He knew (most of the time) how to tame your inner brat, he'd proven this to you on more than one occasion. It was one of the many things you loved most about him, the way he always knew how to leave you both satisfied and wanting more, all at once.

And it was that very thing you'd been craving all week from him.

So today, you had a plan.

Was it a good one? In retrospect, probably not. Would it get you in trouble with him? Most definitely. But was that exactly what you wanted? Fuck, yes.

It wasn't even a want, at this point.

No, it was a fucking need.

So today you were going to see just how far you could push him, before that dominant side of his would come out to play, before he'd snap and give you exactly what it was you needed: Chris putting you in your fucking place.

A slight grin turned up the corners of your mouth as you snuck a glance over at the empty driver's seat, your mind running through all sorts of scenarios as to how today would go for you. He had no idea, the poor guy...

Leaning over, you laid on the horn for a few seconds, until you saw Chris emerge from the house you two shared, your boyfriend giving you a raised eyebrow as he got into the car. "Someone's impatient today," he teased you, turning the key in the ignition.

You stuck your tongue out at him, unable to hide your grin. "Not my fault you walk slow, old man," you shot back. That earned you a look from him, the look, in fact. It was the look that was a warning, a threat, and a promise all rolled into one.

"Do not be a brat today. I mean that, Y/N. I want you on your best behavior while we're at Ricky's party. Play nice, or it's gonna be a long fucking night for you," Chris warned you, as he pulled the car out of the front driveway.

Ha, you knew that side of him would eventually come out to play! Although, you were more than a little surprised by how quickly it had happened. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment to hide your grin before you reached across the center console, resting your hand atop Chris's.

"No promises," you teased him.

You could practically feel the look he gave you then, and you had to try your hardest to hold back your laugh as the two of you drove out to Ricky's place. Today was going to be something else, that was for damn sure...

"Two more weeks, man. And then we leave."

Chris's answering groan brought a smile to your lips as you sat there by the edge of the pool, your shoes off and feet buried in the water.

"Come on, dude, I don't want to think about that right now," he answered with a shake of his head. Ricky shot him a grin, raising one eyebrow. "Sick of tour life already, are we?" he asked.

"No, see, if that was the case, I'd be like 'Who are you and what have you done with the real Chris?'" you interjected with a grin of your own. Laughter rang out from around the pool, and you winked at Chris, his answering smile creating a sense of warmth in you, a feeling completely different than the warmth brought on by the sun beating down on you all.

He shrugged, running one hand through his blonde hair. "I don't know, I mean, don't get me wrong here. I'm beyond thrilled to be doing another tour with you guys, but... two weeks. That's gonna come fast," he said.

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped unbidden from your mouth at that moment. Apparently you weren't the only one; both Vinny and Ricky snickered from across the pool as soon as they got the joke, each of them exchanging a furtive look with you.

Chris shot you a questioning look, and a slow grin spread across your face as you quickly raised both eyebrows at him. "You know what else is gonna come fast?" you began, exchanging another sly glance with the boys before your gaze slid back to Chris.

In that moment, it must've finally clicked for him, because he gave you a warning look, similar to the one he'd given you in the car.

"Y/N..." he started, raising one dark eyebrow at you. His eyes remained locked on yours, but the longer you stared back, the more you noticed certain things, little things.

One corner of his mouth twitched up briefly, like he was fighting back a smirk, as he continued to stare at you. Oh, so he had found it funny, though, hadn't he? Your grin widened a little as you scooted closer to him, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

"I bet you can make me come fast."

The timing couldn't have been better; you leaned back just in time to see Chris's mouth fall open in shock, those brown eyes widening, a barely audible gasp the only thing being heard above the faint music drifting over from the small portable speaker by the pool.

"What? What'd she say?"

"Dude, what did she tell you?"

The guys' questions went ignored as Chris sat there, stunned and speechless for a moment. He wasn't the only one; a quick glance around the edge of the pool showed you that every single one of his bandmates was watching, waiting to see what Chris's next move would be... or what your next move would be.

"You did not just go there, not here, at Ricky's-?" Chris started, trailing off for a second.

"Y/N, you-" he began again, but like before, he stopped mid-sentence.

"Damn, Y/N, I think you broke him," Justin suddenly spoke up, trying not to laugh.

"Dude, he's fucking speechless!" Vinny laughed.

"What did you say to him?" he added with a grin, raising a brow at you.

You grinned back at him, shrugging.

"Ask Chris," you answered, sneaking another glance at the man in question beside you.

He was still staring at you, but now there was a hint of something darker in those brown eyes of his.

"Say it again, I'm gonna toss you in the pool," he warned you. And yet, despite the warning, there was that same hint of a smirk from before.

"Go ahead, I'll pull you in with me," you shot back, sticking your tongue out at him with a cheeky little grin.

One dark eyebrow arched up, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear this time.

"At least then you'll already be wet for me."

Now it was your turn to be rendered speechless for the moment.

Chris leaned back with a satisfied smile, looking all too pleased with himself.

Shooting you a wink, he got up from the edge of the pool, nodding over at Ryan.

"I need to go help him with food prep, do me a favor and behave, Y/N," he told you.

You were still too stunned to speak, merely nodding in response and watching him walk away.

Game fucking set and match on his end, then. You'd have to get a bit more creative...

Ricky's laugh broke through your thoughts, as he sat down next to you.

"Sounds like someone's in trouble," he teased you, lightly nudging you with his shoulder. You snuck a glance behind you, watching Chris, unable to help the soft smile that made its way onto your face.

There was just something about the way he moved, gods, you could watch him all day.

And then he happened to look up at that exact second, his eyes meeting yours. A slow smile spread across his face, and he winked at you before going back to helping Ryan with getting lunch prepped for the day.

Turning back around, you nudged Ricky with your shoulder. "Hey, don't tell him this, but... I've been kind of a brat today because I'm actually sort of hoping he'll reach his breaking point and... you know," you told him.

He grinned, casting a quick glance in Chris's direction before his eyes met yours again.

"Ah. Yeah, no, I get it. We've been kind of busy with touring and I know you guys haven't exactly had any time to be alone together," he started, an awkward little smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"I mean, I will say this: if things do work out for you today, I've got the extra guest room you guys can use, just so you know. Just... clean up when you're done," he said, trying not to laugh.

"Also, if you really wanna get him to his breaking point quick, let me know, I'll gladly help you out," he grinned. You were unable to keep from laughing at that, the sound drawing Chris and Ryan's attention.

"What're you Girl Scouts laughing about over there?" Ryan asked. His question only made you laugh a little harder, you and Ricky exchanging a furtive look with each other.

"You gonna?" he asked in a voice low enough for only you to hear.

You grinned in response, merely nudging him in the side and nodding in Chris's direction.

Getting up from the edge of the pool, you turned to face Chris, your heart racing with anticipation of what you were about to do.

"Eyyo, Christopher! Lemme get that dick!" you called out, heat flooding your cheeks as you waited for his reaction.

And oh, was it ever the reaction you were hoping for.

He turned around to face you, his mouth open, eyes wide, and brows raised to the fullest extent.

"What did you just say??"

He took a warning step towards you, giving you that look you loved so much, his head tilted ever so slightly to the right.

But you weren't going to let him rattle you that easily. No, you were going to see this through.

"I mean, I can say it again if you'd like?" you answered, biting back a grin. He took another step forward, that warning look still in place. Silence once again settled over the group, the only sound being that of the music streaming softly from the speaker by the pool.

Your gaze shifted to land on Ricky; he was watching the two of you with a poorly concealed grin on his face, and when his eyes met yours, his smile only grew wider, like he was on the verge of laughing.

"Y/N."

Immediately, you glanced back at Chris, your eyes widening when you noticed he'd gotten more than a step or two closer to you still.

"First of all, wildly out of line of you to ask me that, here in front of the guys. And secondly... excuse the ever loving fuck out of you, that's not how you ask me, now try again," Chris spoke firmly, his eyes never wavering from yours.

You started to sneak a glance over at Ricky again, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw Chris shake his head at you.

"No, don't look at him, he's not gonna help you. You wanted to start this little game of yours, now you're gonna finish it," he said. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

"Oh, I'll definitely be able to finish, will you?" you grinned, waiting for his reaction.

Someone laughed, and Chris shot them a sideways glance, before those brown eyes met yours again. "That's one. Try again," he said, his voice dangerously low and smooth.

You bit your lip in anticipation, mentally weighing your options here.

On the one hand, if you played this his way, there was no guarantee that you would get what you wanted, what you needed. But on the other hand, if you played this your way... well, there was still no guarantee of that, either.

You supposed you'd just have to fuck around and find out, then.

"Er, um... may I please get that dick?" you repeated your earlier request, albeit a little more politely this time around.

The expression on Chris's face seemed to soften, and he took another step towards you. "There, see? Now wasn't that a much better way of asking me?" he said softly.

"Pfft, no," you answered, before you could stop yourself.

Almost immediately, both eyebrows were raised again, before he narrowed his eyes at you, though you could swear you saw him smirk for the briefest of seconds.

But then with three more steps, he was suddenly in front of you, picking you up and holding you over one shoulder, like one would with a disobedient child.

"That's two. You're done," you heard Chris say.

Your mouth fell open in protest, and you turned to look over your shoulder at him as best as you could.

"Wait, what happened to three?? You know, three strikes and you're out?? You don't play fair, Cerulli!" you protested.

"Nope, you're done. And I don't want to hear it, you don't exactly play fair either, Y/N," he answered.

You could hear the slight amusement in his voice, could practically see the smirk on his face, at this point.

Ricky laughed, getting up from the edge of the pool. "Tour update: Y/N is a brat, and Chris... is not having it," he teased.

"Yeah, not helpful, Olson," you heard Chris say, but even he couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. "You wanna finish helping Ryan out for me? I've got a brat I need to take care of," he added.

Ricky nodded, and you heard Vinny laugh from where he was sitting by the edge of the pool. "Ooh, you're in trouble!" he called out, grinning.

A few catcalls and laughs ensued from the rest of the group as Chris began heading towards the house, still carrying you rather unceremoniously over one shoulder.

As soon as the two of you were in the house and out of earshot of the others, Chris set you down, a dark look now present in those warm and (usually) gentle brown eyes.

"You wanna explain to me why you're being such a little brat for me today, Y/N?" he asked, casting a quick glance over his shoulder.

Ooh, did he really want the honesty? Or was it perhaps better not to clue him in? To be fair, you were already this far, it wouldn't make sense to back out now, right?

Biting back a smirk, you shrugged.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, I've been so mild today," you said, trying to remain casual.

On the inside, you were a mess. He was reaching his breaking point, you could feel it.

Just a little more...

"Besides, if I'm such a brat, why don't you do something about it?" you sassed him.

Something in his gaze hardened; this was it...

"Yeah, you know what, I think I will. Bedroom. Now. Go," Chris answered, voice firm.

Ha, this was it, finally...!

You stood your ground, waiting.

And he promptly picked you up, putting you over one shoulder again and carrying you down the hall, towards the guest bedroom Ricky had told you about earlier.

He tossed you down onto the bed, not giving you any time to catch your breath before he was leaning over you, quickly pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, the other curling gently around your throat.

"You gonna behave now?" he asked, his voice low and face mere inches from yours.

You stared back at him, your gaze rather defiant as you shook your head at him.

"Mm. Wrong answer, Y/N," Chris breathed.

He closed the distance between the two of you, his mouth finding yours in an instant, all tongue and teeth and dark seduction, the promise of being left unable to walk lingering behind every rough kiss he pressed to your lips.

A groan slipped unbidden from your throat, and you heard him groan in response, his mouth moving urgently against your own. "Mm, safeword?" he breathed out, in between harsh kisses. "Porcelain," you breathed back, earning a hum of approval from Chris.

"Good girl," he muttered, his words sending a chill down your spine. His grip on your throat tightened briefly before he let go, pulling back to admire the way you were still pinned beneath him.

"Fuck, I've missed seeing you like this," he sighed, running his free hand through his blonde hair. The hint of a smirk rested on that perfect mouth of his, a mouth that was as sinful and dirty as it was pretty.

Releasing your wrists, he stood up, staring down at you with that familiar look in his eyes.

You knew that look, it was only the same one he'd worn in the countless scenes you two had done together since you'd learned of his dominant side.

Fuck, did you love his dominant side...

"Stay still. We're gonna play a game, you and me. You're not allowed to move, you're not allowed to make a single fucking sound. Understand?" he said.

The minute you opened your mouth to answer him, he raised a brow at you.

"I mean it. Not a sound. Trust me, you make the prettiest fucking noises for me, but that's just it: they're for me. Not my bandmates. Got it?" he asked. You nodded, earning an approving little pat on the head from him.

"Better, that's my good girl," he murmured.

With that, he leaned down, leaving little kisses along the exposed skin of your throat, finding your sweet spot so easily. It took everything in you to hold back your moan, the noise instead escaping as a barely audible whimper.

And yet, Chris still heard it.

He paused for a moment, lifting his head to give you a warning look, before leaning down again, marking up that sweet spot at the base of your throat. "Better be quiet..." he warned you, in between kisses.

You were trying, honestly! He was making it ever so difficult, though. One more kiss here, one more kiss there... fuck, he really wanted you to suffer, didn't he?

Another small whimper slipped free from your mouth, and you could both see and feel the smile that briefly turned up the corners of his mouth as Chris glanced up at you again.

"Do I need to gag you? Is that what you want?" he asked. You shook your head at him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. "Then I need you to stop, and be quiet for me. Be a good girl, or you lose the game. Understand?" he said.

You nodded, Chris's answering smile of approval bringing a smile of your own to your face. "Up, now. I want this off," he told you, tugging on the hem of your shirt. You did as you were told, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. "Everything?" you asked, biting back another smile as you let the shirt fall to the floor.

"Everything, everything. All of it," came Chris's answer, his voice trailing off as he watched you undress for him. But when you went to undo the ties at the sides of your swim bottoms, he shook his head at you. "No. Down," he ordered you.

Lying back against the bed for him, you watched with baited breath, your teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he leaned down and took the ties between his teeth, tugging them free. Fuck, that had to be the hottest thing you'd seen him do all day...!

He did the same thing to the ties on the other side before standing up again, his hands making quick work of discarding your swim bottoms, casting them aside. You now lay exposed before him, every inch of you waiting to be ravished and ruined by him, just like you wanted, like you needed.

"Fuck," he swore under his breath, staring down at you in awe, like a blind man seeing the sun for the very first time. "So fucking beautiful, Y/N," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you. His touch was no less gentle than it had been earlier; he wanted this just as much as you did, he needed this too.

"Chris," you moaned his name, reaching down to grasp the hem of his shirt, but he stopped you before you could get any further than that. "Mm, no, Y/N, I thought I told you not to move," he murmured, breaking the kiss to stare down at you, those warm brown eyes holding you captive and scorching your very soul alive.

"But I want to touch-" you started. He shook his head at you, a hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. "Only good girls get to touch," he answered. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, his voice low and full of amusement.

"And you haven't been a good girl for me today, have you, baby?"

Before you could stop yourself, you shook your head no, staring up at him with wide eyes. Gods, he already had you tiptoeing the line into subspace for him. Fuck, he was good...

You watched as he stripped himself of his shirt, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the inked up expanse of his bare skin. You wanted him so bad, you wanted to run your fingers over his ink, trace every line, every curve, you wanted to taste him, you needed him so fucking bad...!

A whine escaped unbidden from your throat, earning you a chuckle from Chris. "Aw, my sweet girl's all pent up, isn't she?" he teased you, before finally ridding himself of his swim trunks. You sucked in a rattling gasp, nodding frantically as he leaned over you, kissing up the side of your throat, eventually finding the spot below your right ear.

"It's too bad she's been a brat all day," he whispered in your ear, his words only working to pull another whine from the back of your throat. "Shh, lucky for you, I'm not mean enough to just leave you like this," he added, leaning back to look down at you, his gaze softening.

"But," he added with a grin, "I'm also not gonna sit here and just give you what you want, not that easily." Leaning forward again until his face was inches from yours, he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"You want this dick so bad, Daddy's gonna make you fucking work for it," he told you. His words sent a hot spike of arousal straight to your core, where you needed him the most, and it took every ounce of whatever self control you had left to not sink all the way into subspace for him.

"Oh, but it'd be so easy!" your inner thoughts protested, pleaded, even.

Fuck it.

You stared up at him, your gaze locked with his. Chris knew, too. He knew in that moment, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Fucking checkmate, right?

"You gonna be a good little whore for me, Y/N?" he asked, staring down at you. Fuuu- if he kept talking like that, you wouldn't last long around him. You nodded, too stunned and too far gone to speak properly.

Not that he minded, of course. No, he was in full Dom mode, he knew exactly how much power he held over you right now. "That's my good girl," he muttered, before reaching out and tapping you twice on your inner thigh.

"Up, I want you on your knees. Now," he told you. You complied ever so easily, the prospect of you getting what you want lingering around the corner, just out of your reach. He wanted you to be a good little whore for him, you could do that, no problem...

You knew what he wanted without him even having to ask, you two had done this dance many, many times before. That, and he was making it ever so obvious; he was already so aroused and so hard for you. Kneeling down, you took him easily into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat.

Fuck, you could already taste him, you'd missed this so much. The minute you had your hot little mouth wrapped around his dick, Chris released the dirtiest, ungodliest of moans, one of his hands finding its way to the back of your head, his fingers winding themselves through your hair and holding you in place.

"Fuck, good girl, fuck, just... just like that," he groaned, watching you go down on him, take him, every fucking inch, all the way to the back of your throat-- fuck, you were doing so good for him-!

He watched with a mix of arousal and awe, his grip on the back of your head tightening slightly, his hips rising ever so carefully to meet you halfway. Brown eyes widened, Chris's head falling back as you moaned around him, an echoed groan of his own filling the hushed silence of the room.

Holy- how the fuck could you take him as deeply as you were?? Then again, he wasn't sure why this should surprise him, you'd always done so well for him, more than deserving of any and every ounce of praise he'd ever given you.

"There we go, good... fuck, good girl," Chris panted softly, every exhaled breath trembling on his tongue. "Not such a brat now, are we?" he added with a breathless laugh. You paused a moment, lifting your head to meet his gaze, making a face at him and baring your teeth.

He smirked, trying hard to hide his laughter. "Aw, little kitten thinks she's so tough. But look at her, such a pretty baby, kept all quiet with her mouth around my dick," he cooed at you. God, the filthiest things that could come out of this man's mouth-!

You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks, your blood pounding a frantic staccato within your veins, Chris's words echoing in the forefront of your mind. You gave him your best doe-eyed expression, watching intently as his own expression shifted, his grin faltering as the cracks started appearing in his calm facade.

In the few beats of silence that followed, you could hear the sharp hiss of breath escaping his lungs, his eyes locked intently on yours. The minutes seemed to tick by before he finally spoke, his voice trembling and his words seeming to stumble over each other in their haste to get out.

"D-don't... don't do that, don't look at me like that, kitten..." he pleaded with you in a breathless whisper.

Ha... who was in control of who, again?

A smirk playing at the edges of your mouth, you cast your eyes downward again, your hands moving up to grip the tops of his thighs, fingers digging in as you pulled him in deeper once more, a low groan rising up from the back of your throat.

Any further pleas Chris may have had for you died out on his tongue, another sharp exhale hissing from between his teeth as he watched you, his entire being held wholly and utterly spellbound by your every fucking move.

You could feel his grip on your hair loosen, his hand falling to rest at his side, his self-control starting to slip ever so much further with every touch of your hands, your tongue. You could tell the moment he was close, his fingers tensing and gripping tightly at the bedspread beneath him, his hips rising to meet you halfway.

"F-fuck, Y/N-!"

The way your name left his mouth, spoken like a swear word, like a sort of forbidden oath--

You were completely done for after that, all self-control you may have had, just... gone.

You only had the briefest of warnings from him, before he was coming undone for you, the taste and feel of him heavy on your tongue and in the back of your throat, as sweet and addictive as novocain...

He was your drug, your fix.

And you doubted you'd ever be able to get enough of him.

His climax easily added fuel to the fire of your own, but you knew better. If you came now, that was it, game over. You knew how he was as a Dom, he'd make you wait...

Holding back a groan, you let your eyes drift upwards, meeting his. "Don't swallow yet, baby, I wanna see," he told you, head falling back as he tried to catch his breath, one hand rising to run through his hair.

You slowly pulled back, releasing him from your mouth as you sat up on your knees for him, waiting patiently and trying your hardest not to swallow. His composure regained and that smooth, calm facade back in place once more, Chris reached out with one hand to gently grab you by the chin as he leaned forward, his gaze intent on yours.

"Open up, pretty little brat, let me see..." he breathed.

Eyes wide, you nodded, easily giving in to his demands, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him, putting on full display the mess he had created for you.

Chris stared back at you in awe, taking note of the way his cum dripped from the tip of your tongue, spilling down your chin, your throat, his hand...

"Look at that, look at you, you beautiful, messy little girl," he whispered, pride in his voice, his brown eyes softening as he smiled down at you.

Ah, and there it was... that feeling you always craved, the part you most looked forward to whenever you two did this together.

The way he would give you praise, it was indescribable. He wouldn't just praise you for the sake of doing it, no, oh no. He would go so much further than that, always.

He had a certain way of making you feel so completely special, like everything about you mattered, everything about what you did and who you were just mattered.

Because to him, it did matter. You did.

The softest of whimpers left your mouth, your gaze held captive by his own.

This was one of the parts Chris secretly loved too, seeing you like this, so soft and sweet and pure for him... even though he knew better, you both did.

The moments where you were so open for him like this were incredibly rare, this show of vulnerability was something only he got to see.

Another small noise left your open mouth, regaining his attention. "Shh, I know, baby. Swallow for me, every last drop," he spoke softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently on the forehead.

You did as you were told, swallowing the taste of him, a bittersweet feeling of emptiness lingering behind afterwards. That was the part you hated, no longer being able to taste him, to feel him on your tongue, in the back of your throat.

But Chris knew the feeling just as much as you did, he always knew.

With the softest of touches, he used his thumb to clean up what was left, pushing lightly at your lips, watching as you eagerly opened up for him, taking him into your mouth, indulging in what remained of the taste of him.

Releasing his thumb from your mouth with the smallest of bites, you sat back on your heels, staring up at him with those doe eyes. He smiled back at you, reaching out to stroke the side of your face.

"Such a good girl for me, you did so good. Here, come here, pretty baby," he cooed, beckoning you to him. You climbed up into his lap, one leg on either side of him as you wrapped your arms around him, holding on to him like he was your only lifeline.

"Let me take care of you, Y/N, give you what you need," he whispered in your ear, drawing you close to him. You only too easily complied, letting him have full control, slipping as far into subspace as he could get you to go.

He entered you slowly, wanting you to feel every fucking inch of him, down to the last. Unified groans echoed through the quiet of the room, his fingers digging in to the velvet softness of your hips, clutching you to him like he was going to lose you.

Only he wasn't; you were his as much as he was yours, you were here to stay...

His name left your mouth, a hushed plea for him, all of him, everything he could ever give you.

"Shh, I know, I'm here, m'gonna make you feel so good..." came Chris's muffled reply, his face buried against the side of your neck as he placed soft, slow, open-mouthed kisses along the skin there.

You let your head fall back, eyes closing and lips parting in a silent groan, fingertips brushing along Chris's back, nails digging in ever so slightly to leave tiny half-moons patterned over the surface of the skin.

His breath left him in a quiet hiss, one of his hands moving up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close to him as he left deep kisses along the exposed skin of your throat, leaving his mark on you, taking claim to what was his.

A bit ironic, wasn't it? He'd always told you purple was a good color on you...

The sweetest of noises left your mouth for him to hear, drawing out a mirrored echo of his own, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, biting softly at your shoulder.

Fuck, he didn't think he'd ever be able to get enough of you, even as close as he was to you in this moment, right here and now...!

He wanted you in every way he could have you, he had every fucking intention of it, you'd asked him so nicely before, hadn't you?

Sure, you'd also been kind of a brat and gotten him entirely too riled up all day, but-- wait. Was that why you-? Is this what you had been after the entire time, what you had craved so badly from him-??

A low groan slipped free from his throat as he bit at your shoulder again, before soothing the bite with the gentlest of kisses. His fingers dug into you as his hips rose to meet yours, pushing him deeper into you than he'd ever been, than he could ever hope to be.

The softly exhaled swear word that left your mouth at the miniscule movement was enough to make him slip up and smile, a quiet laugh rising from his throat.

"Is this what you were after, huh, baby? Is this what you've been wanting, why you were such a brat for me earlier, hmm?" he breathed, thrusting up into you and earning another whispered expletive from you.

You were too far gone, too far entrapped by him to be able to answer properly. A mere nod was all you could manage, your head falling forward so you could bury your face against the side of his neck, choking out your soft moans.

"You poor, sweet baby, all you had to do was tell me that you needed to be fucked, you didn't have to be a brat to get my attention..." Chris said softly, trying not to laugh.

"I ddnt knw cld..." came your muffled reply.

"Hmm?" Chris breathed, waiting for you to repeat yourself.

"I didn't know I could," you reiterated softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Chris's answering laugh caused the heat to flood your cheeks again, as you blushed.

"Y/N, sweetheart... you know you can ask me anything, yeah? Mm, you've got to tell me if I'm not giving you enough attention," he answered, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek, your chin, down towards your throat, your shoulders.

"Doesn't matter if I'm with the guys, if you need me, pull me aside and let me know you need some time away..." he added, brushing soft kisses along your collarbones. "I'm sure they'll understand, at least half of them know what it's like," he continued in a murmur, dotting more featherlight kisses along your skin.

"What what's like?" you gasped softly, head falling back again as Chris's hips rose to meet yours in another particularly deep thrust. He had to choke back a groan before he was able to answer you, his fingers flexing tightly along your hips for a moment.

"Fuck..." he groaned, eyes closing as he sat there, buried deep within you, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second.

"They know..." he breathed out, eyes reopening as he lifted his head to look at you, "they know what it's like to have a girlfriend to come home to, someone they're just so incredibly desperate, so hard up for, the entire fucking time we're on tour..."

His hand slid from the back of your head, down, down to instead grip the back of your neck, fingers flexing softly, tightening ever so gently, holding you in place as he slowly fucked you, every thrust deeper and more sensual than the last one before it.

You cried out as the waves of dark ecstasy ebbed away just at the surface, threatening to overtake you and drown you in their depths at any given moment. You were close, you were so very close, he was so good, too good, everything was too warm, too stifling, fuck-!

Chris's answering moan fell in perfect synchronicity with your own sweet sounds, creating a seductive little symphony only the two of you would ever be able to hear.

"Fuck, I know, baby, you're so close, Daddy's close too, fuck..." he groaned, his head falling forward to rest against your own.

"Just a little more, hold out a little longer for me, hmm? Gonna make you feel so fucking good, fuck you so full of my cum, breed you 'til you fucking drip for me, baby..." he added, keeping up the dirtiest stream of whispered profanities against your skin, his hand tightening on the back of your neck.

"Chris, please-!"

Your begging only added fuel to the blaze growing hotter between the two of you, your desperate pleas sending him chasing after that high, right over the edge--

And you fell down with him, oh fuck, did you fall fast and hard with him--

Chris barely had time to growl out the words "Cum for me, Y/N", before you were doing just that, his name leaving your mouth in the loudest of cries. You were sure if his bandmates hadn't heard the two of you before, they would now.

But you didn't give a fuck.

You were so lost in those waves, so lost in him, to even care.

The way he held you down tightly against him, the way he was so intent on making you feel every inch of him, every drop of seed he had to give you--

It was too much, it wasn't enough, it was... it was everything--

"Fuck, Chris, fuck--!" you ground out, your breath leaving you in sharp, gasping exhales as you clung tightly to him, holding on desperately.

Your thighs trembled beneath you, and yet... you didn't drown, not completely. Chris held you as tightly as you held him, the two of you keeping one another aloft through it all, riding the high until there was nothing left to take, nothing left to give.

The inside of your head felt blissfully like radio static, as if someone had left it carelessly unattended between channels, the white noise filtering through to your brain, to your very nerve endings.

Chest heaving, breaths trembling, you collapsed against him, the weight of Chris's embrace a comforting presence as you came down from your high. Little did you know your very presence was of great comfort to him as well, the two of you guiding each other back home.

"You- I... fuck," you gasped out in a breathless whisper, unable to find the right words. But at this point, words became unnecessary, a sort of unspoken agreement forming amidst the aftermath. Chris knew, he always did...

He sat there for a while afterwards, holding you close to him, not quite ready to let you go, not just yet. If he was being honest, he felt rather selfish in that moment. It wasn't enough, he still needed you, needed to feel you, to taste you...

"Here, lie down for me, baby..." he murmured, helping you up as he slowly withdrew from you. The sharp hiss you let out at the feeling of emptiness afterwards, oh, how he hated that sound. But he'd make up for it, he'd see to it, you'd see...

The minute you were lying prone and soft for him, Chris gently parted your legs, immediately leaning down to kiss you in that most intimate of places, working with tongue and teeth to cleanse you, but fuck, the taste-!

He groaned against you, the muffled sound being unwillingly ripped from his throat, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you in place as he instead devoured you, every taste of your essence and his heavy and seductive on his tongue... he wanted more.

No, fuck that, he needed it.

And the way your fingers tangled tightly in his blonde hair, pulling harshly as he ate you out so deep, fuck-- he needed more of it, he needed all of it.

And you-!

You'd swear up and down, Chris was practically made for eating pussy, holy fuck-

It was one of the things he was particularly skilled in, the way he could have you coming unraveled at the seams for him just like that...

Fuck-!

Your thighs shook, a harsh cry tearing itself free from your parted lips as you came for him, Chris using that sinful mouth of his to fuck you through not one, but two orgasms, holy-!

You tugged harshly at his hair, his answering hiss sending a flush of heat straight through to your core, shoving you carelessly, blissfully, over the edge one last time, before Chris decided to show you mercy.

"N-no... more..." you gasped out, panting softly for him. "Safeword?" he breathed, lifting his head to stare up at you through heavy eyes, those warm brown irises scorching through to your soul.

You shook your head at him, unable to respond vocally. But much like before, words were unnecessary with the two of you. He leaned back, taking you by the hands and gently pulling you up to cradle you to his chest, hugging you tightly.

You were done, you had reached your limits.

But that was okay with him, you had done more than what he'd expected of you, much like you always did.

It was one of the things he had come to grow fond of, with the relationship you two had.

"Fuck, you did so good for me, baby. 'M'so proud of you," Chris murmured against the top of your head, his fingers tracing light circles along your back, tracing up your spine, working to bring you back down to earth, back to him.

You were much too exhausted to respond, instead settling for a soft hum of acknowledgement, your breathing eventually returning to normal as you left your high behind.

Only then did you finally take note of one minute detail that had previously escaped your notice.

The door to the guest bedroom had been left open, the entire time you and Chris had fucked.

Anybody could have walked past, could have seen you and Chris like that...

"Fuck..." you mumbled.

"Hmm?" came Chris's soft reply.

"The door. It got left open," you answered in a tired murmur.

There was a moment's silence before you and Chris both looked at each other, neither one of you suddenly able to keep from laughing.

When the laughter had died down, Chris cast a look over his shoulder at the door. "Probably a good idea to close that next time, yeah?" he remarked, turning back to grin down at you. You nodded, your cheeks flushing at the thought that one of his bandmates might have seen the two of you.

And then Chris's words clicked into place.

"Wait, next time? You mean that?" you asked softly, a hopeful look in your eyes. He nodded, smirking down at you. "You don't think I'm gonna let you get away with this twice, do you?" he teased you, leaning down to kiss you.

You grinned, shrugging as you kissed him back. "Maybe? I got you this time, didn't I?" you teased him in response. "Mm, no," he answered, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before releasing it, "no, baby. I got you."

You leaned back to pout at him, earning another laugh from him. "Alright, how about this? Truce?" he asked, holding out a hand. You eyed it dubiously for a second, before finally relenting, shaking his hand. "Alright. Truce," you agreed. "For now," you added a moment later, unable to keep from smirking.

Chris raised both brows at you, before calling you a brat. Although, judging by the faint smile on his face, you knew he didn't mean it.

And you were right, he didn't mean it. You were his good girl, you'd always been, always would be...

"I mean, you guys cleaned up in there, right? I'm not gonna find anything... questionable... later?" Ricky asked, raising an eyebrow at Chris. There was some light laughter amongst the rest of the guys, as they all sat gathered around the open, brightly blazing fire-pit.

The last rays of the dying sun had long since bled out, leaving nothing but ink and gemstones and a silver smile gracing the skies. Food had been eaten, drinks had been had, laughter had been shared, and now that things were winding down, you had ended up falling asleep in Chris's lap, your head resting on his shoulder.

Chris made a face at Ricky, earning more laughter from his bandmates. "Of course we cleaned up. Besides," he said, glancing down at your sleeping form in his lap, "I think she needed this today."

"How long had it been for you guys again?" Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow. "Too fucking long," came Chris's instant reply.

A few low catcalls and whistling ensued from some of his bandmates, earning them all an eyeroll from Chris. "Sooo... tour update: Y/N's no longer a brat?" Ricky teased, grinning.

Unable to hide his own grin, Chris shook his head, glancing down at you again and placing a soft kiss atop your head as you slept. "No... she just needed a little extra attention from me today, that's all..." he answered.

"Dude, you're so fucking soft for her," Vinny grinned. "Yeah, man, I don't think I've ever seen you like this with anybody, our fans included," Justin agreed.

Ricky snorted, casting a sideways glance at his friend. "It's cause he loves her," he said with a wink. Chris waved him off with a smile, but he knew his bandmate was right.

He did love you, more than he ever thought he could, more than he thought he deserved to. How he'd ever been lucky enough to land someone as special as you... that was still, and probably would always be, a mystery to him.

"Oh and by the way, you guys were totally loud," someone suddenly spoke up, earning another round of laughter from everybody.

"Shut up, we were not!"

A/N: I know this one was a bit of a long read, I do apologize. But for those of you who stuck around and made it all the way to the end, I want to very humbly thank you and hear what you thought of this one! (Also, if you think I should do more of these, please let me know in the comments and REBLOG! Every little bit helps! Thank you so much, fellow Creatures! 🎃

#chris motionless x reader #chris cerulli x reader #chris motionless oneshot #chris cerulli oneshot #chris motionless smut #chris motionless #motionless in white x reader #motionless in white oneshot #motionless in white smut #motionless in white fandom #motionless in white fanfiction #motionless in white #miw things #miw #smut #these games we play

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blackpilljesus · 7 months

Text

I've not dated or had close relations with moids in years. I've been on the path to spending the rest of my days as a single childfree woman & committing to it as an osawoman. During this time here's what I've learnt, shorter version here:

This lifestyle is a privilege - being able to exist without having to directly depend on a moid romantically/sexually is a luxury. Know the privilege you have and how you can take full advantage of it and keep yourself set. We arent living this way solely bc we're smarter, we were just momentarily luckier. Most women are a political/natural disaster away from losing everything. Bear this in mind; along the way think of "what if" to best start preparing yourself.

Dont bother justifying your ways to people - Most wont and dont want to get it. Save your breath. By getting into back and forth arguments over not marrying moids & not having children you are digging a deeper hole for yourself by giving them more fodder to counter. They wont change their minds. End the conversation short & move on.

You cant save everybody - Ditch the saviour complex. We all get dealt bad hands in life; some worse than others. Other peoples lives arent your responsibility, there's only so much you can do because you've got your own issues too. Besides some are too far gone, you'll only end up drowning or being burned trying to save others especially if they dont want saving.

Recruitment is a waste of time - I often see extensive discourse around this topic w/ some women trying so hard to recruit others into this lifestyle or being separatists, wgtow, etc. All this does is waste time that can be spent on building instead. If some women dont get it oh well it's not the end of the world (although every woman does get it, they're just doing what they can t survive) it doesn't matter long term TO YOU because if you're serious you dont need other womens understanding/stamp of approval to build a network/resources for women; you can get started without them; heck some may join once they see the value like how so many women broke up with their partners after watching the barbie movie. Some women are more focused on recruitment than living the single childfree life they claim to be about and it consumes them - dont let recruitment consume you. Besides other women willingly engaging with moids buys you some time; those who know - know.

Most activism is a waste of time. Things only change when it benefits those in power but they will never relinquish their power entirely. It's great to put knowledge out there for others to learn but getting into discourse having to justify yourself & being swallowed by your activism will do more harm than good. Most activism is a stepping stone at most for the next chapter of your life. Learn to game the system instead of changing the system.

Focus on yourself. Everything as we know it is rooted in the system that has been perfected over the millenias. The problems of misogyny, racism, ableism, etc have existed before we were born and will exist after we die (part of why im not birthing into this mess). Trying to change it is a losing battle. This doesnt mean dont advocate or care about anything but look out for yourself first & be comfortable learning to existing between the cracks. It'll be quite the exercise tho as we've been socialised to prioritise others.

This is not a lifestyle one simply chooses it's something that chooses you. This isn't for everyone, those who know; know. If you require a lot of convincing or handholding then it isn't for you.

It gets lonely. Not because of not having a moidfriend; even when partnered with them many women still feel lonely. It's because most women are moid centric / obsessed and would want to be partnered with an xy someday or already are. Very few women truly commit to or understand this lifestyle irl tbh. Even my moots who are separatists or just single & childfree are halfway across the world. However that said, many women in the community can also be toxic; holding each other to high standards and there being constant bickering. You can befriend moid partnered women but be careful with them. We're surrounded by the system, existing out of core elements of it will come with a degree of isolation but on the bright side there's also peace if it all goes well.

Less is more. The less you say to others the less ammunition they have to hit you with. Bragging about this lifestyle to our predators will only make things harder because they've already got a huge upperhand. Too many of us moving in one go will bring unprecedented waves we're not ready to deal with. See 2, 3, and 4.

Ignorance is not bliss. Completely cutting off from xys including knowledge of their evil will make you unprepared should a threat strike. Not understanding moids nature is how some women think things are as easy as getting up and walking away without considering security & other factors then get suprised when moids strike. I'm not saying drown in true crime & xy evil but dont stray too far you lose touch of reality. Side note this is why women are gaslit about moids nature so that they dont have the chance to effectively prepare. Stay informed. I constantly learn from the women around me. Pay attention to xy motives & tactics. The power they hold, possible moves they may play etc. You wont be able to know/guess everything but stay in the loop nonetheless.

You will make mistakes be prepared to learn

It gets easier to control your attraction to moids overtime (if you're osa) as your focus is elsewhere as you realise there is a more fulfilling world out there beyond marriage & kids. Also life is just so much better. I know most women want the fairytale prince charming or an angel nigel but it's just not happening. Especially in a world like this. The freedom to be able to exist as a person & not a slave/punching bag for a rape ape is BLISS. You get so comfortable with it you wont wanna be with moids anyway especially when you see what other women go through. (Side note this is why women are pushed to being with moids as early as possible so this level of enlightenment is never reached & instead all women know + become accustomed to is suffering at the hands of moids).

As time passes and you mature into this lifestyle you can tell who's new and who's got skin in the game. I wont elaborate here as it'll digress and this note is long as is but those who know; know.

There's so much work to be done it'll last a lifetime. This lifestyle ain't easy. It strays from the norm so the typical guardrails that come with traditional options are out of the picture. The good news is that you can spend time crafting your own blueprint to follow or share with others who are willing. There's such little in terms of infrastructure & resources for single childfree women and yeah xys will likely try to destroy these things but at the same time if it can be done go for it and bear xy threat in mind we gotta start somewhere.

A purpose/guide is important. It's something that's going to guide your life through the ups and downs because it wont be a smooth ride but it'll be something that can make you in situations that break you. This isn't a "fuck you" to moids directly, it's about ourselves. Seeing this lifestyle as some type of "gotcha" against moids will only make things harder and lowkey misses the point of decentering them. I have my reasons for never getting married or having children that are solid (if you need inspiration checkout r/breakingmom on reddit). True comes from seeing something as bigger than yourself; find a purpose in this line of life to keep you going.

Invest in yourself. Personally, financially, etc. Pretty obvious but especially now that you're going to be more alone you need to be able to count on yourself more. With enough investment it can help other women too.

Invest in female network. No gyn is an island. Even though I'm not much of a social person the friends I have make my life better; they've been supportive but also honest. Also support female centric spaces online & offline; they're all that we have lest we be banished to the silo prison of the "nuclear family" or exploitative misogynistic communities.

Get comfortable disassociating/cutting people off. If you want to survive some things/people will simply just have to go.

You arent owed anything from other women, but you dont owe them anything either. The operating word here is owed, I aint saying women shouldn't help each other - I'm saying dont feel entitled. The feminist "girls support girls" schtick is bullshit. We're in a cold world full of ruthless oppression where everyone is just trying to survive however they can; in many cases it helps women survive when they turn on other women instead of on moids. Solidarity works because those who have solidarity politically speaking are people with power, it works in their interest to stand & work together as to keep + maintain their privileges in society so there wont be much female solidarity as in many cases it's not worth it to women long run. It aint right but that's how they perceive it so watch your back.

Everything is political. Always remember this. Many (privileged) people try to downplay politics & its effect but it runs our world which is why they want you blind to it. Pay attention.

There's merit to being around like-minded women even if it's just online. Like I said before it gets lonely. Very few women are willing to face & accept the truth about maIes. Being around like-minded women can be depressing sometimes as they drop blackpills bitter than you can initially handle but at least you dont feel so isolated/crazy.

#i will update this with a shorter version later #female separatism #female separatist #radical feminism #radical feminist #blackpill feminism #feminism #blackpill feminist #wineauntmovement #feminist #single life is the best life #single life #wine aunt #childfree

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drewstcrkey · 1 year

Text

Stuck In My Ways : Rafe Cameron .

Summary: y/n is accepted by both kooks and pogues and after ditching your brother, john b for a kook party you realize you might just lean towards one side of the island than the other. Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader Warnings: Handsy Rafe Word Count: semi long lol Author Note: so pretty much my intention is to turn this into a series. i already have part two halfway written. if you guys like this so far let me know because the ideas i have for this series are wild!! also i did not proof reach this so i'm sorry for any typos.

you tiptoed the line between two worlds. a happy medium most couldn't even fathom. you were both pogue and kook. moving to figure eight to live with your estranged aunt when your father disappeared. it was a easy decision on her part, given you were already enrolled in kook academy long before your father's disappearance. john b was quick to urge you to take the opportunity and you made the promise to help him out as much as you could. he was your brother after all. despite your life taking a 180 turn, you still managed to maintain your friendship with the pogues. to an extent. you didn't see them as much, your kook friends surprisingly needy once they'd decided you were officially one of them.

"did kelce tell you, y/n?" blonde, known as sav, questions as she finds a space on the beach towel. wet hair sprinkling droplets on your dry skin with a flip of her hair.

"party tonight? yeah," you nod, readying yourself to break the news you didn't intend on showing up.

"oh goodie, me and chloe are going to get ready at my place so just get there at like 7 and we'll pregame while we get ready," bright smile as the girl pulled her phone from her beach bag.

"oh my god yeah, i already got the truly's from my brother so we're good," chloe's giddy voice chimed in as she leaned over into the conversation.

"yeah... i'm not going," you sighed, rubbing your hand on the back of your neck awkwardly. both girls faces dropping as if their miniature puppies had been run over or something.

"funny," chloe laughed, "this is going to be the party of the year, what do you have better to do?"

a roll of your eyes as you looked up at the clear sky, "my brother-" before you could so much get the rest of your sentence out sav interrupted. "oh come on, what does he have another scavenger hunt he's trying to drag you on? you don't even like stuff like that," she groaned, pout prominent on her face. a laugh coming from you, she wasn't wrong. if you had to admit, kook life suited you much more than getting dirty out on the cut.

"i'm taking the silence as your coming," chloe's giddy demeanor returning, with a short clap of her hands. you decided to stop putting up a fight, knowing you were fighting a losing battle anyways. kelce's parties were always fun anyways, although there was no way you'd be able to tell john b you were ditching him and the pogues for a party at kelce's. there was no world would that could go over well.

your brother was always protective of you, even though you were a year older than him and he'd placed one big rule on the circumstances of you going kook. steer clear of the golden trio : topper, kelce, and rafe. for the most part you did. by no means would you consider the three guys close friends of your but you were friendly with them. it came in handy when it came to parties, the three over them known for throwing some of the best ones on this side of the island.

---------- later that night . ----------

your greeted by cheering from your best friends as you exit your white jeep. both girls stood at the front porch. sav holding out a truly, already cracked open for you. "we thought we were going to have to go make a detour to save you from the cut," sav laughed, as you took the truly. shaking your head, laugh syncing with hers before you brought the can to your lips.

once the three of you made your way up to sav's room you set your bag down by the door, conversation on how the night was going to go already in full swing. "do you think tonight kelce will finally make a move?" sav bounces on her bed for a moment. she's had a crush on kelce for as long as you'd known her and only recently had he started to show some interest. you hoped for her sake tonight was her night.

"oh for sure," you give an assured nod.

"he was all over you the other day at the country club," chloe added.

"speaking of all over someone at the country club," sav smirked, as both girls turned their attention your way. you looked at them both confused.

"what?" you asked, not fully sure what the two of them were getting at.

"oh my god, y/n/n, don't play stupid. rafe is so into you," chloe tilted her head to the side, her words coming out like this was some sort of common knowledge. sav's nod only reaffirms that. you this wasn't true though. rafe cameron was not into you and even if he was ... he was off limits. john b would kill you, himself.

"he is not," you groan, "he was just being nice," remember how he'd brought you over a drink from the bar while you were all by the course. the way his hand pressed on your lower back sent chills up your spine that you would never admit to.

"name one time rafe has ever been nice to anyone he didn't want to get into bed?" sav laughed, making you stop before responding. she had a point, but still, you refuse to even let your mind harp on the idea for to long. you'd heard your brother's stories of the eldest cameron and although you didn't necessarily believe all of them, they were enough for you to put your faith in heeding your brother's warning.

"lets just get ready," turning to your bag, any way to get off this topic. both girls shrug, giggling to each other for a second before you all fall into getting ready.

doja cat playing on full blast, girly giggles just nearly tuning the sound of the music out. you'd made your way through nearly all the truly cans between the three of you, a good buzz going. it was a good thing sav lived so close to kelce's house. the walk wouldn't be too long, both ways. seeing as you were planning to stay at her place for the night. her parents out on the mainland for the week.

"okay! kelce just texted me asking if we're on the way," sav squealed. you and chloe join in on the excitement as you all grab the last three cans and set on your way over to the party. it was only an hour in and you had a great buzz going, so good you and topper had beat out three other pairs at beer pong. something you were only good at with the right amount of alcohol in your system.

"one second," you called out, feeling your phone going off.

"oh c'mon, y/n, we're just heating up," topper whined, arm wrapping around your shoulder before you raise your phone up. showing an incoming call from your brother, he sighs and lets you go on your way. legs carrying you up the stairs and into a guest bedroom so that you could answer john b with some peace and quiet.

"where are you? your locations off?" was the first thing he said when you tapped the green button. a sigh coming from you.

"calm down, fbi, i'm with sav and chloe like i said ... the guy sav likes pulled a real dick move," you lie, plopping down on the bed in the middle of the room. you hated lying to john b, but he just wouldn't understand if you told him you chose to go to a kook party over hanging out with him and the rest of the pogues at the chateau.

"i'm just making sure you're safe," you could tell in his voice he'd missed you. you missed him to. a loud thud coming from somewhere in the house, followed by cheering. pulling your phone from your face for a second , mouthing 'fuck' to yourself, hoping he hadn't heard anything.

"what was that?" he asked. of course, he'd heard it. the sound probably echoed throughout the entire neighborhood.

"uh, nothing, just the tv," you tried to explain away, "i'll call you tomorrow, okay? i got to go, love you," before he could even get his own i love you out you were already hitting the red button on your phone screen. fear that the partygoers downstairs would find another way to try and get you caught in your lie. dropping your phone onto the bed for a second, relieved sigh falling as you shoulders slouched for a moment.

"i didn't take you for a liar," a familiar voice announces itself. startled you look up, to find smug grin right above you.

"rafe," you stutter out. when did he get here? and why was he just lurking around listening to your phone call.

"y/n," he let out a dry laugh before finding a space beside you on the bed.

"what are you doing in here?" you ask, as if he can't throw the same question your way.

"well, this is my room for the night," brows raises as he licks over his lips. your own brows knit together, was he really planning on getting that drunk that he couldn't even make it back to tanneyhill? you notice the half empty bottle of whiskey he's offering to you and you've already received your answer to your own question.

"uh, sure," you give him a smile, taking the bottle and taking a swig of it. liquor burning every inch of your throat. you'd always been more of a hard seltzer kind of girl. as you regain your composure you can feel blue eyes studying you and your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

"good shit, right?" he says before you give the bottle back. all you do is give him a nod before you stand up, kneading out your pink sundress that you now were hyperaware of how it hugged every curve of your body.

"yeah, thanks for that," a nervous laugh tumbles from you. normally you weren't so awkward around him but you were in a bedroom, just you, rafe, and a bottle of whiskey. you may have been buzzed but even you knew that wasn't a good look. before you can much headway toward the door you feel a hand tug at your arm, just strong enough to pull you back toward rafe but gentle enough not to hurt. your eyes widen as you look down at him and you notice the small pout on his lips.

"yes rafe," you try and laugh off the random action, free hand flipping through your hair.

"where do you think you're going?" his strong hands find their way to your hips and that's when you realize you're positioned right in between his legs. your heart nearly jumping out of your chest. "looking like that," his teeth raking over his bottom lip as he takes a moment to look you over.

"i-" you don't even know how to respond, not sure if your brain was fuzzy from the alcohol or from the shock of rafe cameron giving you a compliment. he had to be trashed, right? hum coming from the guy in front of you, your mind focused on the way he thumbed at your hips through your dress.

"i should really get back to the girls," you gulped, trying to get out of his grasp but his hold was firm.

"don't go, y/n." smirk playing on his lips as he stands, now towering over you. "we never get any time alone."

you face drops at his words and for a moment you can't help but to think back to what chloe and sav had said earlier in the night. were they right? did rafe actually have a thing for you? shaking your head slightly. it didn't matter. whether he was or not, your loyalty had to stand with john b, if not on anything than on this matter. rafe's hand moves up to your jaw, lifting up head up to look up at him. blue eyes searching your for a green light from you.

"my brother, he hates you," you choke out, skin tingling under his touch. your words don't have the effect you thought they would they and he leans his head back for a second, laugh taking over the silence in the air.

"yeah, i'm not his biggest fan either," he shrugs, gaze falling back onto you. hand on your hip pulls you closer to him, his body now pressed up on yours and for second you question whether you'll crumble under his touch. you had eyes like everyone else, to say he wasn't attractive would be a flat out lie. even if you didn't love that you thought so. "from what i saw earlier you don't let his opinion dictate your decisions anyways," his comment leaves you biting at your cheeks. eyes falling to the floor.

"i'm just not this girl," you finally pull yourself out of his grasp, once again straightening out your dress. heavy sigh falling from you, one you hadn't even realized you'd been holding in that entire time. eyes flutter as you look back at rafe. a disappointed look on his face.

"what kind of girl do you think i think you are?" he asked, sitting back down onto the bed. hands push into the bed as he leans back, eyes still very much so glued onto your figure. it makes you self conscious, even though no one's gaze has ever made you feel like that before.

"i don't know," you shrug, shifting in the spot you were standing in. "the type that would fuck you in a guest bedroom at a party," your brow raising at him and all he responds with is a laugh that almost makes you question if you made up everything that had just happened in the last few minutes.

"i wasn't going to fuck you," he his licks lips again, "i mean, i'd love to, but that wasn't the plan," he shrugs, your heart feels like it's about to fall out of your chest again at his words. a knowing look etched onto his features. you are too stunned by the whole interaction to even try to piece together another sentence.

"i won't make any moves," he holds up his hands before patting the space you once occupied on the bed. you look over at the door then back at rafe. "unless you think you'd have more fun out there," he leans over to grab the whsikey bottle set on the floor. bringing the bottle to pink lips as he looks you over, awaiting your decision. the look on his face lets you know he thinks he knows your choice before you even make it. rolling your eyes and settle back onto the bed, crossing your legs so that your facing him, hands quickly pulling at your dress to cover yourself as best as possible. admittedly, rafe had always intrigued you and he was right the two of you never had much time alone. only ever having interactions when you were with your respective friends.

"why aren't you trying to get back down there?" you ask, eyes searching his face for an answer before he gives you one, but he was always so hard to read. if you were going to spend your time with him, you'd mine as well shed the awkwardness you felt from being in a bedroom alone with him and just be yourself.

"the only reason i'm here is right in front of me," he smiled and weirdly he sounded genuine. you didn't understand.

"shut up," you laugh, slapping at his arm. "seriously?"

"i'm not joking," he laughed, arm reaching over towards you. free hand thumbs at your bottom lip. silently telling you to open up so he can pour some of the whiskey in your mouth for you. you follow his lead, tapping at his arm to tell him when to stop. "she can drink, huh?" he teases, giving you a playful nudge as you swallow the big pour he'd just given you. you just look at him for a second, you'd be lying if you said you knew where any of this was coming from. maybe you were just too drunk to accurately piece together what was actually happening.

"okay, so now that you got what you wanted from this party..." you start and you can feel the whiskey now taking it's toll on your brain. body heating up, although you can't decipher whether thats due to the alcohol or rafe training his gaze on you.

"i wouldn't say i got what i wanted," he picks up where your words left off. your bottom lip pokes out, now extremely confused. "not yet atleast," he shrugged, he leans over again placing the bottle back down on the floor but he doesn't go back to regaining the distance between the two of you. a comfortable distance might you add. his hand finds it's way back onto your hip as he pulls you down further onto the bed. laying you down onto the bed, his body hovering over you. you can feel your breath hitch under him, you're freaking out.

"rafe," you mumble as he runs his thumb over you lip.

"shh," he hums, taking in your how beautiful you look under him. "i want you, y/n." his voice gentle, a tone you'd never heard from him before now. it made your stomach rumble with butterflies. "but i won't do anything you don't want me to," his words sound like a promise and your heart tells you that you can trust him. his eyes search yours and before you can even catch yourself your hand snakes over the back of his neck. your lips pressing against his, he returns the kiss. the two of you moving in sync as his tongue darts in and out of your mouth. you're kissing rafe cameron and as quickly as the thought enters your mind it goes away when you feel his hands moving up and down your body.

the kiss growing deeper, both of you becoming more hungry for one another and it hits you in this moment...

you wanted him too.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx

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xerotiny99 · 2 months

Text

Room for Two // No Saint No Saviour #1

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

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

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

Requested By: from wattpad.

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

Song rec: I Want To by Rosenfeld.

Word Count: 21,474

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't like him!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's all balderdash."

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

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

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

"Ladies first," he adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why did you stop?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only time would tell.

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, it's me. Jongho."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sounds good to me."

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

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

"No worries."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I might?"

"You might have a crush on me."

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Kissed?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

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

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

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

"No problem." He adds with a dainty chortle, "you're welcomed any time."

This was turning into a nightmare, the way your clothes weren't cooperating with you, just as the shower didn't in the morning. You would have no reason to be in Jongho's apartment, in his lavish and spacious bedroom if not for your shower breaking down early in the morning. These series of unfortunate events were predestined to fall through on an important day for you, on the day you were expected to be punctual, professional and comme il faut. Only a few people from work were alerted about the meeting with the board of directors, you were one of them. Jongho wasn't likely needed, even having received an email from the company saying so, he didn't really bother to attend the meeting and took a sick leave. And looking at him, all hale and hearty, you surmised he just didn't want to be at work today.

"I can't believe you lied about your sick leave," you roll your eyes, bending over to catch your reflection in the mirror of his dresser. "I mean, this meeting sounds crucial and there you are, skipping on it like you don't care."

You watch him shift in bed, propping himself against the headboard while holding a book in his hands; his glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose, yet he uses his forefinger to push the further up. There's an unreadable expression glinting in his eyes, and of course, the glares of his glasses make it hard to discern. He doesn't really answer your question or show slightest of interest in what you had been yapping about. Because, he was solely focused on your figure, on the way your skirt hugged your hips and carved out your body, how the top few buttons of your blouse were undone to expose your cleavage and how tempting you appeared to him as you were bent over to fix your earrings in the mirror.

"Cat got your tongue?" you glare at him through the mirror, finding his gaze fixed on you too.

He shakes his head, almost on an instinct, "too focused on reading this book."

"The book you've kept closed for the past thirsty minutes?" you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. For a fact, you were already aware of his thirsty eyes lurking on you.

He clears his throat, "I'm reflecting on the parts I've read."

"Of course you are."

"I'm not lying." His cheeks turn red as you keep your eyes on him. "Whatever, aren't you getting late for work?"

"Thanks for reminding me again," you roll your eyes, yet again, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before stepping away. "How do I look?"

You wait for him to give you his feedback, impatiently dragging your hands across the lower half of your blouse, which was tucked in the risqué black pencil skirt hugging your butt and thighs. He wouldn't have a chance to say otherwise, he doesn't really have to because watching how sensual your professional wear was, he bites back on a wince and shakes his head.

"Are you sure you're dressed formally?" he asks, keeping his book aside on the nightstand next to his bed. "It might send a wrong message to the board of directors."

"Are you talking about the blouse?" you muse, "it's not that revealing. Come on."

He heaves a defeated sigh, watching you tug at the collars of your blouse to let your chest jut out even more. "Fine, you look absolutely stunning. Still professional. So, best of luck."

"Thank you." You wink at him and trudge away from the dresser, "in any case, I'm leaving. You call the plumber and get my shower repaired."

"Yes, ma'am." He gives you a two-finger salute and giggles softly. "Now, go. You've got an important meeting waiting for you."

"Right, right."

With that, you leave his room, eventually slipping out of his apartment and taking the stairwell to yours. It has been couple of weeks of now, if you were keeping a count, then it was now your tenth week since moving into Jongho's spare apartment. Things have been better, they're smooth; your situation has improved a lot, compared to living with Na-Ra and her boyfriend getting it on every single time of the day and night. Every dark cloud has a silver lining, your silver lining was your new apartment and hanging out with Jongho a lot, but your dark cloud would have to be how Yunho had suddenly distanced himself from you. Of course you had never had any issues with him, you were close, always have been, but there was no logical explanation to why he had turned a cold shoulder to you, out of nowhere.

You aren't bothered by him as much, not because at least you got to see him at work and talk a little (confined to only work related). Getting in your apartment, you grab your necessary things, one of which was your purse and a work file, and hastily leave too. No second look overs in the mirror, or no breaks for grabbing a quick snack from your refrigerator, you're out of your apartment in a blink of an eye. You were in a hurry, and it was starting to show.

Jongho throws the sheets to a side, kicking his legs off the bed and strolling casually around and out of his bedroom; he was astounded by your presence, a lot. He was however glad to help you out when you needed it the most. Even if it meant he had to create your problems to offer his help. Now, you might not want to go on Jongho's innocent mien, or the front he puts on for his helpless victims to gain their trust and resolve. Jongho, in the society's minds, was this perfectly shaped and well-behaved person; though to the contrary, one who has witnessed his darker, steeper, creepier parts of life, could tell he's one son of a bitch.

A sociopath is what they call the people who are severely antisocial, with no regard for morales. Or, as what Jongho's therapist had once called him. Jongho had attachment issues, it rooted from his childhood, amongst his family; it grew and thrived in his mind, until his obsessions took over. Jongho would obsess over people. First, it was his mother, then his girlfriend and now you. He was obsessed with you, very much inclined to be with you at all times.

You thought Jongho extended a helping hand out of sheer desperation or love? Think again. Everything had been planned, by his evil mind from the start, from the day he had seen you in a cafe with your best friend, from the moment you walked past him at work; Jongho had always had his eye on you at work, obsessed with you, and moderately aggravated by your ignorance towards him. It might seem coincidental to him, having seen you in the cafe the first time, then finding out you were his coworker in the same company—a mere coincidence. Or fate?

Jongho had his planned nailed down to the T. He knew your girlfriend's boyfriend would move in with her, well considering he had allegedly constructed it to happen, he knew you would find a new place to move in because of their ruckus, and of course, he knew you would turn to Yunho, who mind not, was his accomplice in this whole thing. Ha, and you thought Yunho genuinely wanted to help you. Silly you.

Turning a corner along the long stretching hallway, Jongho enters a room; he closes the door shut behind him and walks on further to the various screens blaring on a wall. There are approximately fifteen screens, all showing the black and white reels of your apartment. Yeah, he had fitted several cameras in your apartment before you moved in, at various angles, getting all good shots of you. He sits down on the chair placed in front of the screens, pushing his glasses up, he starts going through each of the screen for your silhouette. Knowing you aren't in your apartment, he still double checks, wanting to be sure of it. Once he knows you really not there, he gets up from chair, tugs on the sleeves of his cashmere sweater and smirks devilishly to himself.

He has a perfect opportunity now, to sneak into your apartment and indulge in his darkest of desires. Standing in front of your apartment door, he punches in the code and enters; he makes his way around, leisurely strolling till he's in your bedroom. Ah, the broken shower, which wasn't really broken—he had only turned its water supply off. Jongho's smirk keeps growing into his cheeks, a sense of satisfaction over taking his heart before his lust and detrimental obsession kicks in.

Sauntering in your bedroom, he comes across your laundry basket strewn in a corner. Clothes overflow, the flap of the basket remains half open, and bits of your lingerie sticks out. He crouches down on his knees, pushing the flap open to see it for himself. The strap of your lacy bra was tucked out of the basket, under which he hooks his finger and gently pulls out; his gaze admires the flimsy fabric, the floral pattern of the net and how it would cover nothing of your skin when you'd wear it. He was picturing it, shamelessly pitching a tent in his pants. He couldn't help it. Keeping your bra aside, he fishes through the rest of the clothes and finds your lacy knickers too; so, your bra and these panties are a pair, he thinks to himself before pushing himself off the ground and going to sit on the edge of your bed. Not before he makes sure to shut the blinds of the window to keep his actions hidden behind the scenes.

One of his hands held onto your panties, and other clutched the sheets under him; he brings your panties close to his nose, to get a good sniff of your scent, a scent which had driven him to his madness. His cock strains in his sweatpants, painfully confined in his briefs. He wants to pull it out, he wants to do the unthinkable, all for you. Jongho does exactly what his mind had been playing on replay for the past two minutes now. Fantasising about you, and your body, he reaches down and starts palming his cock through his pants, making it harder as he thinks about you. He then tugs at his sweatpants and briefs, his cock springing out to hit his lower abdomen. Glancing down, he knows how hard he had gotten by just your clothes, and it was pushing him to his edge. He probably isn't even embarrassed to admit the truth about what he was going to do.

Jongho wraps his other hand around the tip of his cock, his thumb rubbing circles on the tip before his fingers slide down along the shaft. Stroking himself, he gets himself harder than before, stiff enough to jerk himself off. He relaxes in your bed, arching his back. The palm of his hand engulfs himself entire, and keeping his pace steady, he starts rubbing it back and forth. Veins on his shaft bulge out in a few seconds, and he hisses at the cold and calloused sensation of his hand.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, his voice a mere whimper as he brings the tempo of his hand up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

He screws his eyes shut, tight enough to picture more of your naked body, to imagine himself getting sucked off by your pretty little mouth; he's seen every inch of your bare body, every time you'd be in the shower or would soak in the bathtub. He's in love with your body, so much, so madly. Sweat starts dripping down his forehead, a few strands of his ebony hair sticking to his skin, while his lips tremble chanting your name. He has your panties pushed up against his nose, taking eventual sniffs of it to drive himself crazy.

With a few quick paced strokes, he switches his rhythm and drags them out, going around the tip to massage it a little; precum starts dribbling out from his slit, and his hand spreads it along his shaft. His cock, glistening with his precum, is still very stiff and eager for the release, yet Jongho keeps his pace slower than before. He takes a deep yet trembling breath in, convulsing his lungs to the sheer pleasure he was deriving out of this. His face was flushed, cheeks red, lips quivering, eyes shut closed and his skin shining with a fresh coat of sweat; he needed more, he needed you. Loosening his fingers around his cock, and pulling his hand away, he brings his other to wrap your panties around him. The soft and warm feeling of your panties pushes him into his carnality, inching him closer to his release.

Tightly wounding his fingers now, he picks up the pace and goes hard; his moans are beginning to fill up the room, his eyes are swelling with tears till a few cascade down his cheeks, staining his skin. He's close. So very close. And the way he was dragging your panties up and down on his cock, was starting to get to him. With few more concise and fast paced strokes, he starts bucking his hips into his hand, fucking himself better. He knows he'll come undone any second now, realising how badly his cock had been pulsating in his hand. Everything blurs to nothing when he twitches, his body shuddering as he lets go. Streaks of white cover his hand, bits of it running down your fingers and a lot of it drenching your panties.

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathes out, his whimper sounding melodious to the empty room as he peels his eyes open. Heaving a wispy laugh, he glances down at his hand, full of his cum and your panties ruined by it. "You'd look so pretty squirming under me, while I'm...oh, fuck."

His mouth falls open, jaw slack, as his vivid imagination was starting to make him hard again. There's still time for you to get home, he wouldn't mind going another round. This time however, he keeps your panties and picks out your bra, spending another hour of his time masturbating and fucking himself to your thoughts, to the very vile imagery of you in his mind.

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

You were pacing back and forth, chewing on your nails as Jongho sits on the couch, shifting his eyes to your oscillating body.

"My lingerie is missing." You mumble, showing no signs of stopping in your movements. "The red set of my lacy underwear is gone, disappeared into thin air," you spell out with panic lacing your words, "what kind of pervert would do that? How is that even possible? I locked my door, there was no way anyone would have broken in to steal my underwear."

Jongho hums, relaxing back in the couch and feigning to be in deep thought. He doesn't utter a word. A criminal would keep his mouth shut under the fear of being unraveled. Jongho has your underwear, the red set of your bra and panties is lying in his wardrobe, sullen with his cum and reeking wildly of his scent. He's been jerking off to them every night since he got his hands on them, it's vile, it's disgusting but it's his way of loving you.

"This is maniacal, Jongho. I'm scared of living here now," you stop in your steps and stare at him. "I'm scared." The last of your words sound more like a whisper and that makes Jongho fake his concern even more.

He gets up from the couch and heads to the kitchen to bring you a glass of water, or what you think he was getting for you. You sigh and sit on the couch instead, placing your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands; you were frustrated, annoyed, frightened of your situation and how it was affecting you. Jongho walks out in mere minutes, bringing a glass of water to you. He hands you the glass and you take it without any doubt or having a reason to doubt him. Taking eventual sips, you feel yourself calming down bit by bit. In no time, the glass is empty and sits on the coffee table in front of you. Jongho watches you keenly, resisting the very urge to smirk. His straight face showed no emotions, no signs of impatience that he felt in his heart, but staring at you with his ravenous eyes, he only masqueraded his concern.

"Feeling better now?"

"I guess," you shake your head, returning back to having it slumped in your hands. "But this is outrageous, Jongho. Who could—just, I need some time to recover I think." You mumble, and your head was starting to get heavy.

Jongho notices your unease, and how dizzy you were staring to get. On the other hand, you were confused as to why you were suddenly starting to feel the discomfort; this issue wasn't that serious to begin with, yet you were starting to feel the aftermath of stressing out too much. It's really concerning to you how your lingerie got stolen, only one pair of it, however. You hadn't noticed it missing till after a few days from your important meeting, when you were searching for it to throw it in the washer.

You feel numb, your head throbbing with an unwanted ache till you're seeing stars in your eyes; breathing gets harder for you, your lungs burning and your throat suffocating you. This was sudden, but it was bewildering. Your vision turns blurry, your lips shaking and your heart pounding in your chest. Jongho stands in front of you, doing nothing, standing still on his spot till he's sure you're knocked out. And you are, in few more seconds, darkness shrouds your eyes, your mind switching off and your body falling limp to the side on the couch.

Was there something in the water?

You were never so comely with darkness, nor were you so fond of feeling lonely and scared. Not remembering how you ended up in this situation, feeling yourself lying in something soft, something constraining your movements and the kind of familiar scent tingling your nose. Squinting your eyes, your distorted mind starts waking up; the dull ache in your head isn't gone, but it isn't too intense to make you groan in pain. When you're fully conscious of your surroundings, you find yourself in a comfortable bed, way too comfortable; the mattress has sunken to your weight, the sheets on your body are and soft and warm. In the dimly lit room, you notice the details and find everything quite too familiar. A room, with a window and its drapes drawn over, with a dresser and a closet, with a layout so familiar.

When it finally creeps up to you, your body jerks off the bed. Sitting upright, you scrunch your brows together and find it astounding to be in Jongho's room. What had happened that led you here? Did you pass out and he brought you to his apartment? But then why would he bring you to his apartment? That doesn't make sense. He could've tended to you at your own apartment. This certainly doesn't feel right.

And it shouldn't either.

Not when you find one of your hands shackled in chains. A broad cuff is wrapped around your wrist, the metal cutting into your skin, and a long chain dangles from it to the headboard of the bed. What the fuck was this? You start panicking, your breath hitching and your mind going point blank; your anxiety starts getting the worst of you when realise you're still your old clothes. The same spaghetti sauced stain tank top and shorts you had worn when you called Jongho over regarding stolen lingerie.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fucking shit is this?" you grunt through your gritted teeth, wanting to cut off the cuff from your wrist.

You're still panicking, caught up in the daze of escape instead of keeping your senses perched on other things. Let's say for the surrounding. It's beyond your comprehension to understand when a certain man walks in, muffling his footsteps against the floor and shuffling around to stand by the edge of your bed.

"Oh, you're awake, now. Are you, moonpie?" he murmurs, "I was starting to get tired of waiting around for you."

You could discern the soft pout on his face under the haze of dimmed lights. He leans over, towering with his broad shoulders on your body, making you feel small and puny.

"How are we feeling?" his worry is bittersweet, an underlying intention evident to your mind. "Hopefully, better. You've been asleep for a day or two." He shrugs his shoulders as if the words mean nothing to him, "who's keeping a count? Your friends? Yunho...?" he heaves out a chuckle, shaking his head, "probably. No, it's right. They must be concerned. Actually, he must be really worried considering he was in on this."

There's a beat of silence, and you decide to fill it in, having been unbothered by his jeering phrases. "Jongho, what is this? What kind of sick joke is this?"

You tug your hand, the chains shackling and creating a buzz around, a sound he was so delighted to hear from you. He traces his thumb across his lower lip, his eyes glazing only for a second on your face before they rummage to gander at red marks on your wrists. The cuff had really eaten your skin off, in a way, it looks tormenting and painful—something he surely finds himself relishing.

"A joke?" he mocks, "Moonpie, why would you think any of this is a joke? I'm doing all of this for you."

He sits by edge of the bed, and you scamper to press yourself against the headboard, wanting to be away from him or his touch even. This was something out of a movie, a low-budget thriller movie where the protagonist gets trapped by a psychopath and is subjected to all kinds of torture by them. How ironic is that? You were stuck in that situation yourself, wondering what Jongho's mind was constructing in every passing second. Given your interest in watching all sorts of documentaries, you knew you had to play your cards right, choose rightful words to get your way in this.

"For me?" you gasp on a breath, "Jongho, this is fucking crazy. You're fucking crazy—"

"—am I? Am I fucking crazy to think I can protect you from the world?" he growls, somewhat keeping himself composed, "I've seen how the others look at you, with their lust-filled eyes and the untamed desire they have for you. I can't let them taint you too. You're far from being corrupted, never in my eyes."

And there it was, the flash of ambiguous darkness in his eyes, the way it acridly makes your spine tingle. Even if it had lasted for mere seconds, you knew where this was headed, you were starting to figure him out; vaguely, but gradually. You needed to be levelheaded and cautious.

"All those days and nights of watching you, reading you, getting to know you, they were some of the best times I've ever had. You didn't even know I was there, like a shadow lurking behind you. Everywhere you went, I was there. I couldn't get enough of you, never actually." He adds, "I don't want to hurt you, I would rather die than hurt you. I just want to keep you close to me, away from the hungry stares of your so-called friends. You'll be safe here."

You hadn't realised when his hand had traced up your leg and rested on your thigh, but maybe you were too immersed in his words and thoughts to notice anything at all. Too immersed in his words and thoughts, the raw sentiments of his demented mind, you were in fact drowning in the aftermath of believing him, of ever interacting with him.

"You'll always be safe here, moonpie." He rubs circles on your thigh, thumb pushing into your flesh, "I'll go get something for you to eat. You must be hungry. You are hungry, aren't you?"

Your lips were sewn shut, heart practically in your throat at the way his tone and voice had changed. The clear shift from being obsessive to concerned caught you off guard. Jongho offers you a sweet yet deadly smile, his lips curling like the Cheshire Cat before he walks out of the room and leaves you in utter chaos. Confusion, despair, disgust, and your nicking anxiety had already started to get the worst out of you.

To think Yunho was into this all along, shatters your heart even harder. Now that the room was completely filled with silence, you could hear the minute shuffling happening outside. Jongho is probably preparing the food for you, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were indeed hungry. Your stomach growls at the thought of food, mindlessly thinking about what he had or was bringing for you to eat.

After a few minutes of waiting, the door rattles to him entering inside; he's soft on his feet, but his presence is heavy and intimidating. When he stands by the edge of the bed, holding a tray in his hands, he offers you a small smile before placing it down in your lap. You notice the contents then, a meagre meal of carbs, protein and fibre: pieces of chicken steak, some sautéed vegetables and mashed potatoes. To accompany the food, there was a small can of soda.

This was a filling meal, he really had thought it through, from the food itself. How long had he been planning this? He must be enjoying the sweet taste of his victory, which menially isn't anything but the decadent fulfilment of his efforts and hard work.

Jongho sits down on the edge, giving you enough space; even so you were pressed up against the headboard, not wanting to be any closer to him. The tray in your lap is warm, and you could vaguely discern the mist rising up from the food. Had he cooked it? Or had he just ordered it from outside? Besides that, your worst fear was getting drugged again. Had he drugged the food?

"I'm not hungry," you state, softly.

"But you need to eat, moonpie."

"I don't need anything from you."

He grunts, "you're really impossible to deal with."

Steering himself away from you for a mere moment, he lets his head hang low and shakes it; an amused chuckle follows, reverberating till the time stands still and you're taken back by him.

"Jongho!" you call out, the chain rattling as you brace your hands against his chest.

He had leaped over to you, shoving you into the headboard till your back hurt. One of his hands held down your shoulders, by pushing it hard against your chest. While his other hand grabbed your jaw, forcing you to stay in place.

"You should listen to me," he grunts in your face, pressing his fingers and thumbs into your cheeks to get your mouth to open. "If I tell you to eat, then you eat it, damnit. Don't make me say it twice. Next time, I might not use my words."

He lets go of you, crawling away from your body and checking the tray of plate, whether it had made a mess on the bed or not. Lucky for you, his enraged actions weren't as haphazard as you'd expect them to be; if there had been a mess of food in the bed, who's to tell what he'd do to you. In odd times as these, it's certain to agree with every wish of his, oblige every word he speaks and never go against him. He is volatile, waiting to blow up in your face any moment if you even move wrong. So, you have to weigh and measure every consequence before talking to him and carrying yourself around him.

Using your free hand, you pull the tray properly on your lap and pick at the food with their bare fingers. No spoon, no fork, no knife. He knows how to play. And he knows it well. Standing up on his feet, leaning over the edge of the bed, he strokes your shabby hair away from your eyes and offers you a gentle smile. In his mind, he hadn't been violent towards you. Acting as if he hadn't just pushed you up against the back of his bed and threatened you with his malignant anger.

"Good girl, now was it so hard?" his fingers caress a side of your face, slipping down your cheek to your lips. "Don't make me use force against you, moonpie. I don't like it. I can't stand the thought of bending you to my ways. Just...be a good girl for me, okay?"

You nod, picking out a piece of chicken steak he had cut and putting it in your mouth. It was hard to chew, no matter how soft the meat was in your mouth. Swallowing it was going to be even harder.

"Finish it, hmm?" he insists, stepping back till he finds himself sitting on a lounge chair by the door. "I'll wait until you finish everything on your plate."

Already having a hard time to swallow, you somehow manage to nod at him. Little by little, piece by piece, with your greasy fingers you finish most of the things in the plate. You still had a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your plate, the vegetables and meat were almost done with too.

"I've got all day," he sighs, dreamily as if, he wasn't getting tired of watching you and it was starting to show. "I'm not going anywhere. You can take as much time as you need."

Only the thought of him staring at you all while you tried to finish the plate, gave you an icky sensation. Your back was covered with sweat, your clothes were soaked in sweat too. Disgust was the last thing you wanted, but it was rather a feeling sticking to your spine ever since you had gained your consciousness.

"Done." You mutter, a sense of victory taking over your mind but soon dissipating into glum and hopelessness; he had gotten up from the chair, taking short strides toward you.

He was inspecting the empty plate, closely enough to not miss out anything. How sickeningly frightening was that? Even worse, how much of a sicko was he? You could have never guessed of his freakish predicament in the beginning, could've never imagined there's a devil hiding behind the warm gummy smile of his. Your current situation was pointing to the otherwise. On the spectrum of luck, you were stuck in the bottom half where misfortunes awaited you.

"Ahh, good girl." He mutters under his breath, patting your head before taking the tray out of the room with him. "I'll be back soon. Don't make a sound."

You were left alone in the dimly lit room, a room harbouring no light of sort; the window was draped shut apparently with black curtains, and the only source of light for you was the lamp on the nightstand next to you. As one your hands had been cuffed to the wall, you couldn't reach out to the nightstand or the drawers below it. You were hopeful the drawers might have something of your use, something to get you out of the cuffs.

Rummaging your eyes further, you find the dresser shrouded by darkness in a corner. The setting of this room had been tampered with, you'd know and are sure of it since you were in here before. This was Jongho's room, the very room you had used to get ready for your meeting once. You remember the dresser being situated next to the bed and not in that corner; you also recall using the bathroom adjoining this room, meaning the door which you keep second-guessing about, leads to the bathroom.

Besides the grim darkness, and melancholic sentiments, you were starting to panic. Your mind kept flooding with constant fear of death, or even worse, being assaulted by an unhinged man—you've seen it all in the documentaries before. Maybe, watching them wasn't a total waste of time. Regardless, you kept going back to your friends, and Yunho. The man who seemed so harmless at the beginning, had now been placed under a different light for you. How could you be so naïve and gullible? How could you trust strangers so easily?

You knew this wasn't the right time to guilt trip yourself; these kind of mistakes happen and can't be avoided either way. The weight on your shoulders is already anchoring you down when you start getting drowsy too. No doubt the food was drugged. Was it really? Or were you just feeling sleepy after eating the carbs? The worst part of it was, it doesn't take you more than a minute to fall asleep, your body falling limp in the bed, against the mattress while the sheets pool around.

This has to be the worst. Most definitely.

You had no clue how long you were out for, but when you came to terms with your conscious, your body was aching immensely. It could've been because of your sleeping position, how strained your body was when you slept curled against headboard. Though, you were less bothered about your body and more concerned about your bladder; you wanted to use the bathroom, urgently.

Bracing yourself, you proceed to heed out his name. At the beginning, your voice does not even reach your own ears, and takes you countless tries before knowing you could yell out his name.

"Jongho...!" it sounded a little weak, however you could hear the door squeaking at the hinges when it's opened.

Jongho walks in, looking concerned and bewildered, his eyes were wide, and his lips trembled like a loose leaf on a branch. "What is wrong?"

"I need to—I need to use the bathroom," you mumble.

Letting out a sigh, he walks around the bed and pulls out the top drawer of the nightstand. He retrieves a pair of handcuffs, the ones usually used by cops; approaching you, he nudges his head for you to hold both your hands out. You oblige as told to only to find him cuff your hands together before unlocking the broad metal cuff around your wrist which was adhered to the chain on the wall.

"Come on," he tugs on the cuff, pulling you along with it to another door.

You knew the door led to the bathroom, so when he unlocked it with another set of keys, you weren't so surprised to find yourself in it.

He pushes you inside, and closes the door, standing on the other side before hailing out to you, "make it quick. And don't even think about doing anything funny."

You gulp, audibly so. Quick on your instinct, you start looking around, hoping to find something of your use. But to your unseeming surprise, the cabinets were empty, the drawers were locked, and the cabinet mirror was a reflection of your harsh reality. Your skin was starting to dry, peeling at places, especially on your hands; your lips were chapped and bleeding, there were bags under your eyes, your hair was greasy and smelled a little. Everything was so...disgusting to you. Even your own reflection. The mirror was a glimpse to your future, no matter how much you tried to, you weren't getting out of here. Never out of his sight, his mind or his prison.

Now, you had completely given up, having no strength in you to continue fighting or think of ways to escape him. You finish relieving yourself and wash your hands, splashing some of the water on your face too. Hearing a knock bang on the door, you flinch and tremble in fear.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah," you whisper, pulling yourself together and hastily walking out.

Jongho stands right in front of you, arms folded on his chest and his eyes narrowed onto you. "I'm not going to cuff you again, you're free to move around this room."

He must've weighed all the consequences of keeping you tied in the room. As much as that is very thoughtful of him, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being trapped here all day and night. At this point, what was day and what was night? You couldn't make out the time, the windows were bind with dark curtains, there were no clocks in the room for you to even know the time or date. All you could rely on is your own sense of calculating and counting the days. Or maybe, you could just ask Jongho.

The man helps you get to the bed before dragging himself to the door; standing by it, he offers you a small smile before mumbling, "rest well, okay? I'll be back tomorrow with breakfast for you."

So, it was night after all.

You absentmindedly reflect to his smile with your own, getting in the bed and snuggling in the warm sheets. The door closes behind him as he leaves you in the dark, and once you're sure he's out your earshot, you cry. You hug your knees and cry, till your cheeks are stained with sheer agony of your tears.

This was hell.

And you really needed to get out of here.

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

You were starting to keep a track of his behaviour; not knowing how many days it had been since you were held captive by him, you still wanted to figure out how long you had been here. It would make sense for you to count the days from your last encounter with him, though for that, you would have to know how long you were knocked out for when he drugged you. Even so, counting from the time you had finally regained consciousness, it seems like it had been more than two weeks since you were here.

More than two weeks. Right. And yet, none of your friends had tried searching for you. Or maybe they had, they were on their way to seek you out. Although, Jongho was always one step ahead of everyone, he must've distracted them. The thought of your best friend and her boyfriend did come to your mind, but as usual, Jongho's advances would make you push them to a dark corner and never let those thoughts resurface.

Keeping a track of the days was easy, you only had to count the number of meals he was providing you. Jongho gave you three meals a day, the breakfast would be simple enough, consisting of an omelette and sometimes rice, the lunch and dinner were both proportionate of carbs, fibre and protein. You were glad he was offering you good food. But that was least of your concerns and nothing to be glad about.

Jongho allowed you to take a shower six meals before; thankful to that, you felt a bit fresh and dressed yourself in neat clothes. Again, the clothes had been bought by him, just as he did with every other thing. The clothes you wore were simple too, a cotton dress reaching to your calves and your brand-new underwear inside.

You were nicely dressed and showered today too, sitting by the edge of the bed and waiting for Jongho to come in with your lunch. Over the time, as irrational as it would sound to any sane person, you were starting to feel something for him. Affection? Maybe. Your soft spot for him was brainwashing you, not that he had already done with a few simple tricks, but you were starting to warm up to him.

Jongho made sure to make you realise how bad the outside world is, and how safe you are here with him. He never touched you without your consent, never made you feel threatened again; because you were starting to obey his words, his wishes, you were becoming his trained pet in a way. In the span of two weeks, you couldn't even recognise the change that had taken over you. If you could compare your old self to this one, you'd be stunned beyond measure.

But it wasn't that bad.

You listen to him. He doesn't threaten you and you don't get punished. Suffocation takes over you every time you try to reminisce of the day you had missed to obey him and had met with a ruthless punishment. As much as it is detrimental for you to remember it, you know the trauma won't leave you. Ever. You faced the punishment because you did not finish your food one time. He dragged you to the bathroom by your hair, filled up the bathtub with water till its brim, and drowned you in it. You could feel the water penetrate your lungs, shorten your breath, give you a dizzy headache. After the torture was over, he cradled you in his arms like a child on the bathroom floor, feeling guilty and ashamed of what he had done to you.

He never punished you after that. Ever. Even raising his voice at you made him feel guilty and embarrassed, so he spoke to you in humbling tones. Days were different after that incident, you thought he'd be more erratic than usual, but to your surprise he wasn't. Jongho has a good game, a very strong one to alter your perception on him. You couldn't pinpoint when it was, but you were surely feeling some type of way for him.

"I'm here, I'm here," he sings, pushing the door open while bringing in a tray of food. "I agree, I'm late. But I had a couple of things to take care of. Are you hungry?"

You nod, licking your lower lip. "I am. I thought you weren't going to come today."

"Babe, I'll always be here for you," he chimes, setting the tray on the bed first. Pulling the lounge chair closer to the bed, he sits on it and fishes out a key to unlock your cuffs. "You've been a really good girl for me, I'm thinking we won't be needing these anymore."

You took a breath of relief. The thought itself was freeing, no confinements on your wrists, no struggles, no pain, no marks on your skin. He lets the cuffs fall down on the floor, clinking softly against it while he tugs at your hands and pulls you in his lap. However, the glare on his glasses makes it hard to read his eyes, you never know when he might change his mind, and considering that, you wanted to be prepared to take on anything he flung at you.

"Jongho..."

"Shush..." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting and nicking your flesh till bruises start staining your skin. "I've been waiting for a long time to gain your trust. Craving your touch..." he intertwines your hands together, "I won't do anything unless you're ready. I want you to feel safe around me."

"I do," you mumble, leaning back into his touch, "I've started to feel safer around you than before."

"Is that true?"

"Do you want me to prove it?"

"How would you prove it, babe?" he asks, licking up a stripe on your neck, his tongue warm and slick with his spit.

You slip out of his lap, falling on your knees in front of him to slot your body perfectly in between his legs. He spreads them wider, letting you accommodate the space before running a hand through your hair. A sly smile stretches his lips, making you gag a bit, regardless, you let him do what he wanted to. His hand cups a wide of your face, before sliding down to grab your chin and pull you up only a bit for your lips to meet.

The kiss was hungry, wild, desperate, his lips were sucking on yours with an unquenchable thirst, while you pushed yourself into him to deepen the kiss. Your hands were on either of his thighs, but out of nowhere, you find the warmth of his own grab yours and force them behind your back. He holds your wrists in one of his hands, using the other to swiftly pick up the fallen handcuffs. You could hear the muffled sound of metal clinking, alerting you. Unfortunately, you weren't as quick to pull yourself out of his trap, or his arms; he places the cuffs on your wrist and tightens them.

His teeth sink into your lower lip, biting hard till it bleeds into his mouth. A satisfied moan rumbles in his chest, and he pushes himself away only a bit to flash you a conceited curl of his blood-stained lips.

"I like it this way," he murmurs, running the tips of fingers on your arms behind tugging on the link between your cuffed hands. "Don't worry too much...I won't hurt you. It's neither that I don't trust you. But I better be safe than sorry."

You stifle the urge to make a retching sound, wanting to flee the moment he's too immersed in whatever you had to offer. In other perspective, you nod your head and peer at him, putting on a helpless ruse and pouting so that he would continue the broken kiss. He did not needed to be told twice, however. His lips are back on yours, biting, sucking, lapping, both of your teeth clattering against each other until he cups your face and forces you to open your mouth. Instantly, his tongue slithers in your warmth, sending chills down your spine. You knew he was eager and desperate, very much so to hear you moan under him.

The vagrant and insatiable hunger in him was clearly evident in the way he was devouring your mouth. Stroking the back of your neck with one of his hands, he tilts your head behind to give him better control over you and his tongue thrusting down your throat. His other hand stays warm on your cheek, slowly and gradually falling to your shoulder while his fingers dig in your skin through the flimsy material of the dress.

He takes a deep breath, pushing himself away from you to realise what he was doing and what he wanted to do next. This time, you did not need to know it twice; the way his eyes lingered on yours for a minute longer before trailing down to his crotch, that told you many tales of what he wanted you to do. Swallowing thickly, you suck on your lower lip to resist the dwelling dread in the pit of your stomach. On a much contrary note, you were starting to get aroused and wet, your panties already drenched with your arousal. What did it take for you to be on your knees for him? His lustful eyes? His ravenous desire to make you his? Or, in fact, were you growing reminiscent of the time you had spent with him prior to this catastrophe that struck you?

"Open wide for me, okay?" he smugly whispers, keeping one hand on the back of your neck while using the other to unzip his pants.

You're helplessly stuck in between his legs, counting your breaths till you'd be suffocating on his cock; it wasn't a pretty picture in your head, but just the thought itself made you even more wet. This would have to be some sick sort of fantasy for you. Why else would you be thinking of erratic things towards your captor? In the dark side of your mind, the way Jongho had behaved with you in the past days, made you feel all sorts of things. Maybe it was the lack of human interaction, or the fact that you were away from your friends for so long, that your mind had fallen in love with the idea of what Jongho was.

Jongho tugs at the waistband of his pants, pulling them down with a few more tugs till they're pooling around his folded knees. You catch the glimpse of briefs tenting against his erection; again, something going hand in hand with disgust and lechery.

He brings his hand to your jaw from the back of your neck, and thumbs your lower lip, forcing you to open your mouth. You yelp, letting the pain of his fingernail digging in your fleshly lip, while watching him pull his briefs down. His cock springs out, eagerly. Jongho muffles a grunt while trying to push his briefs down and once he was done, he nudges your head close to his crotch.

"Be a good girl for me, like you have been for the past days."

His voice seems drunk of lust and craving, seeming raspy and heavy. You lick your lips, pushing yourself further this time to let the tip of his cock brush your lips; you don't open your mouth to take him in the instant, rather you stay, keeping your lips shut to let him rub his cock all over your mouth. The feeling was distasteful in some way, until the warmth of your mouth engulfs the littlest bit of his cock. Only the tip of his cock pulsated in your mouth, and you licked at the slit to elicit a soundful moan from him.

His touch burns on the back on your neck, holding it tight to keep your head in place while he bucked his hips into your face. Continuing with it, inch by inch his cock plunges in your mouth, till the tip hits your throat.

You gag, almost immediately. "Nnnghh..."

"Fuck." he mumbles, throwing his head back while his mouth falls opens. He even takes a moment to throw off his glasses on the floor, not bothered in the slightest to know if they landed smoothly or not. "Your mouth feels so good—so good around me, moonpie. So soft, so warm...fuck."

Leaving you to gag on his cock, he picks up the pace of his thrusts; every time he pulled out, it gave you a fraction of second to breathe, though when he pushed back with all his strength, you felt like you could suffocate. Your lungs burned, aching for air, your hands were strained behind your back, and your mind was foggy to realise any of it. What your conscious could filter was pure pleasure and desperate need for attention.

Jongho's cock was buried deep in you, stretching out the walls of your throat; you raise your tongue to the roof of your mouth, licking along the underside of his shaft as he continued to thrust in and out your mouth. The seething urge to bite down on his cock was immense in your mind, and even if you did, you knew it would not grace you with prettiest of consequences. So, you let that thought drift and oblige, doing what you had only learnt from watching porn.

"Want to breathe?" he asks as if he was going to do you a favour by pulling out.

Regardless, when you nod, he does pull himself out of your mouth and gives you a minute to breathe. You cough, feeling your throat itch while drool coats your chin and mouth; saliva strings dangle from your lips to the tip of his cock, which apparently had gotten redder and appeared to gleam with precum.

"Jongho..." you mumble.

"What? Is it too much for you?"

You shake your head, "I need you too."

"You need me, huh? Then show me what your mouth can do." He grumbles, nudging the tip of his cock against your lips.

You are back to wrapping your lips around him, lowering yourself down his veiny shaft and choking as it hits the back of your throat again. This was probably the most you had gotten inside your mouth. Now, tasting the saltiness from his precum, you roll your tongue on the underside of his cock. Licking and lapping while he rammed himself in and out of your mouth.

"Ah, fuck," he growls, the sound resonating from his chest as he throws his head back and his brows draw themselves in together. "Who knew this mouth was—oh, fucking hell—who knew this mouth was capable of driving someone wild."

You moan while his cock his confined in your throat, constrained to feel the mere vibrations of your whimpers and groans. Tears start pricking at the corners of your eyes when his pace picks up again; he bucks his lips, thrusting steadily to retain his rhythm. Too lost in the pleasure, both of his hands entangle in your hair and push you against his pelvis, your nose crushing on his pelvic bone and the bits of his pubic hair tickling your skin. It was rough, but pleasurable in a way.

While Jongho fucked into your mouth, your knees were tired from scrapping against the carpeted floor, your arms were numb from fettered behind your back. His cock slides deeper in your throat, slotting perfectly with the concise thrusts. Your lips were starting to sting from the stretch, as compared to the beginning. But minutes were starting to turn into hours, and you were still getting throat-fucked by him.

As his moans grew louder and the air in the room got heavier, you came to terms with the reality; Jongho peered down at you, a thin sheet of coat on his skin shimmering in the dim lights, while his brows remain stitched on his forehead. His lips trembled to speak something, but before he could even get his words out, you felt his cock twitch. He was close to his edge, and the thought of him cumming down your throat was least likely in your head.

Regardless, you couldn't do anything about it since his hands had already restrained you from moving your head back. Jongho's thrusts became placid and loose, surrendering to the pressure of his orgasm. Though, he doesn't give into the temptation and rather pushes you off; he pants heavily, letting his chest heave up and down. You were breathless too, but the way your throat had been abused, you start coughing from your lungs. Your chest burns, your throat has gone sore, and you couldn't feel your arms at all. Spit, drool, whatever fluids your mouth had, they were all staining your chin and lips. The opulent strings of saliva were connecting your lips and his cock, correction, his veiny and thick cock, which had fucked the hell out your throat.

For a man like him, his cock is sure girthy and thick, lacking in length however that couldn't be any of your concerns since he had a great technique.

How pathetic you were. This man has you captive, he's bending you to his ways and benefit, and you're gushing about him. Jongho seemed so harmless in the beginning, especially when you had no idea of his existence. Now, looking back to those days, it all plays out to a fever dream. Unlikely. Unfortunate. And, vague. Knowing him had bitten you in the ass, making you realise how careful you needed to be around people.

"I had imagined things—I had fantasised of the ways I'd use this mouth," he breaks your trance, hooking his thumb in your open mouth before pulling you up by it.

One of his hands comes quick to wrap around your waist as he picks you up; he guides you on his lap, your dress fluttering till he despairingly pulls it up to your waist. Your drenched panties exposed to his eyes, while you're adjusting yourself on his lap, making sure his cock hits your lower stomach.

"I hope it didn't disappoint you," you smile, hazy and clearly intoxicated with pleasure. "My mouth...my mouth can do wonders."

"Don't doubt that," he grins, placing both his hands on your waist, "but now I need to know what this little body can do..."

When his words are dragged into a mere whisper, he slides his hands to the back of your dress and tears it down. The sound of them tattering against his force, fill up the room, not that the melodies of your pants and grunts had already created a ballad; the damaged pieces of your dress start to slip off your body, revealing nothing but your lingerie. Jongho basically ogles at the sight, wasting no time in ridding you of your bra and filling his hands with your supple flesh.

"I used to see this body every day, aching to touch," he whispers, blowing air on your hardened nipples before swallowing one of your tits whole in his mouth.

"To shuck," he muffles his words, teeth sinking in your skin as he keeps kneading your other tit. "To phinch..."

His words were still discernible. Pulling back, after leaving his teeth marks around your tit, he smears some of his spit on the tip of his fingers and pinches your nipples. The coolness of spit was tantalising the rising warmth of your body; you were grinding on his bare thigh, letting his cock rub against your lower abdomen. He was rock hard and that was driving you insane. His hands slip from your chest to your back, resting in the curve before sliding further down to cup your butt.

"Jongho, please..." you whimper, bucking your hips into his in a desperate need of release.

"Yes, darling," he chuckles softly, rubbing his thumbs on either of your buttcheeks before giving them a gentle squeeze. "You're going to get it. Have patience."

Squeezing your ass tighter, he lays his palms flat on your skin and offers it a good hard smack.

You wince at the sting searing on your skin, "fuck—that hurts."

He didn't care.

Not giving it much thought, he proceeds to slide your panties to a side, keeping the other hand still on your ass.

"Christ, moonpie. You're dripping. You've even ruined your panties." He lets his middle finger trace your wet slit, rubbing it slightly to get you off.

Unconsciously, you start grinding on his finger, wanting to feel more of the friction and the demeaning pleasure you were seeking from it.

"Jongho, just fuck me already." You desperately drag out the movement of your hips, his finger sliding in and out of your slit before it protrudes into your cunt. "Hmm, fuck."

"I don't think my finger would be enough for you."

He shakes his head, snapping the straps of your panties with one meagre tug and letting the torn pieces fall off your thighs. It gets you moaning again, first you were high on the lust after sucking him off, and now, his raw intentions of tearing everything off your body. Without hesitating, or heeding you of any warning, he aligns his cock with your cunt; you take the hint a second later, pushing yourself forward for the purpose of ease.

He had no problem slipping into your tight cunt, after all, your arousal was flowing out like water; you were sure, as his cock inched in you, your juices were dripping down your inner thighs, leaving a shimmery trail behind. You were not prepared to endure the stretch from his cock, definitely not, regardless of your arousal coating every layer of your warm flesh. However, Jongho bottoms out the moment you sink lower onto his lap.

"Fuck, this cunt is a little tight for me," he groans, smirking at you.

"Shut up," you say out of breath, already struggling to adjust to his size.

He wasn't big, but he was girthy, stretching you out quite well. Taking a deep breath, you notice the mellow ache dissipating into sheer pleasure, and you start moving. Jongho bites back on a moan, watching you through his half-lidded eyes. He puts his hands on either side of your waist, giving you a leverage to increase your pace. You start off with rolling your cunt onto his crotch, letting cock stretch you out even more before riding him.

Jongho grabs your jaw, tight enough for his fingers to sink in your cheeks before pulling you towards him and capturing your lips in bloodthirsty kiss. The fervent heat shows in the way his tongue pokes inside, in despair of tasting your mouth; he heaves out a satisfied moan into your mouth when he catches up on the traces of his cock on your tongue. In a way, it riled you up, making you go harder.

The kiss breaks apart with Jongho pulling himself away, a smirk curling his lips in devilry, while his eyes are fixed on yours.

"You better watch your mouth," he warns you for what you had said before, "I have different ways to ruin it. Considering—ah fuck."

Not bothered to listen to him, you were chasing your orgasm, switching from rolling to bucking your hips up and down on cock. You lifted yourself and then sank back, every time, it gave you a feeling of emptiness before you were full again; the tip of his cock would ram deep into you, but not as deep as it would go if he tried to thrust himself into you.

"Playing a risky game, are we?" he mumbles, still holding your jaw and forcing you to open your mouth. Gurgling a good amount of spit in his mouth, he aims it at yours and the cold wad of his spit trickles down your throat. "I know how to tame a brat like you."

He lets go of your jaw and places his hand on the small of your back, supporting your body as it rocked up and down on his cock. You increase your pace, straining your hips almost as the light in his eyes is swallowed by darkness. It wasn't the first time you had come across noticing such ungodly indication in his eyes. He'd frequently show you his true colours, his true intentions, his raw emotions and the wicked schemes.

"Yeah? Then you better fuck me—better fuck me like you mean it." You whimper, your body shuddering.

Nifty tremors spread under your skin when he bucks his hips up, thrusting his cock into you. He plunges himself deep inside, a visible bulge now forming on your mound and on your lower abdomen. You did not expect yourself to prompt him so badly and quickly, though whatever it was that had gotten him on edge, you weren't complaining.

"I better have you making a mess on my cock, now."

With that, he increases the pace of his thrust, ramming his cock as deep as he could and eliciting the perfect melodious moans out of you. At this point, it was safe to say that you were no longer sane; you were never sane to begin with, no sane woman would let her kidnapper fuck her into the oblivion. You were letting Jongho do exactly that, letting his cock wreck you with almost no dignity as you ride him. Or so you thought you were. Jongho ceases his movements, keeping his eyes on you to know your rhythm and need.

And as he waited, scrutinising and perusing your tearful eyes, one of his hands comes clashing down on your cunt, slapping perfectly over your mound and slit; he waits a beat to notice your reaction, content with the way your jaw was open slack, and your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. Who thought it would make you mewl? Having his cock stuffed in you was one thing, but having him slap your bulged out cunt, was another. Both were pleasurable, but the latter was sending you to paradise of pure bliss.

Smirking to himself, he prepares to slap your pussy one more time. The sound of your skin and his fingers meeting was ravishing, echoing in the room along with your loud whimpers, which would soon turn to cries. Jongho absolutely loved watching you cry, he loved the way your tears stained your cheeks and how red they'd get after; he continues to proffer slaps to your cunt, all while bucking his hips into you. He had found his rhythm in doing that, alternating between thrusting his cock and smacking your cunt.

"Jongho, fuck—that—that fucking hurts," you cry, closing your eyes to let your tears cascade down your cheeks.

This was too much for you to bear, the immense pleasure piling on your body while bit back on the urge to release. Your body lurches into his chest and you rest of your head on his shoulder, realising he was still clothed on his upper half; not bothered by it, you too, resume rolling your hips into his, earning a mellifluous moan from him.

"If you keep doing that, I'll cum," he grows in your ear, pressing his lips against your temple as you laid your head on his chest.

His arms were around your waist, giving him a better grip to thrust into you; within seconds, his pace becomes animalistic, not faltering one bit. A familiar knot ties itself in the pit of your stomach, hot and tight, just waiting to come undone by force. You let out a small scream before pushing yourself back from his chest and looking at him, pleading him to end this suffering. He knew what he was doing, or had been doing, he was prolonging your orgasm, making your lower belly ache with desperation.

But now it doesn't seem that way. Keeping his pace steady, still wild and raw, he plunges deep into you to undo the tension in your stomach. You heave out a series of breathless moans, before giving into the temptation of release, finding your juice splash around his cock and dribble down your inner thighs. A bit of your orgasm drenches his briefs, while a few drops squirt on his chest, soaking the shirt. You were so done for, already aching to compose your breathing.

The hard part's over. But, feeling Jongho's cock pulsate intensely with every single thrust, your body starts coiling again. Familiar kind of heat rises in your gut, crawling up your spine and before you could even realise, you were preparing yourself to cum again. Back-to-back? It was something difficult for a guy to attain, yet here you were. You were sure the both of you would be releasing at the same time. Confined in your velvet walls, his cock numbs your rationality, heavily striking at one specific spot till you're crumbling in his arms. You heave a deep breath in, chest convulsing erratically when the wave of your second orgasm overcomes the aftershock of the first one. You've done it again, made a mess on his cock while he still stayed buried inside you. The feeling of being filled up to the brim, while your juices trickled down his cock and his skin, was causing your body to spasm.

Reeling out of the pain and pleasure, you find Jongho smirking at you, letting out voiceless grunts and snickers to belittle your conscious; cumming for the second time, without him trying to overstimulate you, was certainly a victory on his side. Jongho's cock twitches one last time with long and hard thrusts, and in a second's time, he's releasing himself into you. The warmth of his seed coats your walls, squirting a little deeper in your lower gut, while he slowly starts to pull out. Gradually, he slides out completely and holds you close to his body.

You were out of energy to initiate anything, already lethargic and sore. Exhaustion gets the best of you, and the only thing you remember before passing out, how dirty and slick you felt, how his cum was all over your cunt and your inner thighs, how pathetic you were to let this happen. Of course, the post orgasm clarity was making you feel guilty and rather than confronting it, you let it demean you while he stroked your back, fingers caressing your skin ever so lightly to help you relax. For a meagre second, your body eases into his, your head falling onto his chest as you collapse on him; his half-erect cock rests on your stomach, slowly going limp with the passing time.

"You were such a good girl today," he coos, a sole finger tugging at the links between the cuffs on your wrist. "Maybe it's time we got rid of these altogether."

"After all, you won't be wanting to escape now."

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🦋 ˚₊‧⁺˖

The very selective memories of him were echoing in your head; the first time you had bared yourself in front of him, let him have his way with you, the time he concluded you would never want to get out of here, away from him. And as much as you'd hate to admit he was right; you were starting to regard your old plan of escaping his clutches. To be honest with yourself, you had been gone beyond the point of return. Because every time he came to your room, you were hopeful you'd fuck, and your hopes were turned to reality when he'd fuck you to the ultimate paradise whenever he came to drop you a meal.

Basically, you had gotten used to him. As much as the pavlov's theory, every time he entered you room with a tray of good food, you'd be on your knees to satisfy him. And that did not disappoint him. At all. The two of you had gone beyond, diving headfirst into this dynamic where either of you relied on each other's body to sate your mental dwelling. You were never the one to complain, neither did he, not when he was getting to use in every way, he had desired from the time he had first laid his eyes on you.

Though, it was a forlorn mistake to give yourself into him. There were wicked consequences of those actions, leading to what seemed like addiction from both of your sides. You don't know how long you had been with him, months maybe? But after that one day, the very first time you had let him touch you in all the sinister ways he had planers to, you were madly into him, made to believe he was the only one capable of keeping you safe from the outside world. Pathetic.

To be sullied by a man like him, was to be ashamed and to be burned to ashes; you were embarrassed to admit it, your captor had stolen your heart and locked it in his cage, and the key to it was his six-inch girthy dick you'd drool over every time he was with you. Yeah, to conclude, you were his cum-slut, taking in every inch of his cock whenever he got in the mood to fuck you. Seemingly, you felt dead inside when he'd not show up to your room, feeling guilty and disgusted in yourself, because why else won't he come to you? He needs you just as much you needed him.

The concepts of days and time were all mangled for you; having no idea how many days or months you had spent with Jongho, you sit quietly in your designated room. You were waiting for him of course, because your biological clock had also been hampered with. Your heart would know when he'd come and when he'd go, when he'd want to fuck you, when he'd take efforts to clean you and give you aftercare. This surely was fucked.

You hear muffled sounds from outside, some clattering of dishes, some clinking of cutlery and another man. It was strange, at first you believed you were hearing things, that you had finally gone mad trapped in the dark room. But, when the voice booms for the second time, you were sure there was someone else in this house apart from you and Jongho. And it was a man. A man you had familiarised yourself at your workplace for months.

"Where the fuck is she, Jongho?" Yunho's voice sends chills down your spine, as it's too powerful to be heard from the other side of the apartment. "I know you've kept her here."

"She's not here," Jongho speaks up, and his muffled voice is followed by the sound of plates crashing.

"Listen here, you little shit. I never knew of your fucking intentions before; if I had, I would have never talked to her about you." Yunho's growl is loud, shattering your eardrums, for some reason, you could picture him clutching on Jongho's collar, forcing himself into his face as he continues, "I practically served her on a silver platter for you. So, if you still think your life is precious, tell me where she is."

"Yunho, you've got it all wrong. I don't have her." Jongho's persistent with his lies. "Look, I'm stressed too. She's been missing for three months already, everyone's worried about her well being. It's not just you..."

"Don't bullshit me!" Yunho screams, his voice coarse and deep. "I know she's here..."

After that you couldn't hear any of their voices or their yells, it was only sheer silence. What must've happened? Curiosity gets the worst of you and slide off the bed to press your ear against the door, wanting to listen a little closely.

Nothing.

There was pin drop silence on the other side.

And you feared, amongst the dwelling serenity, the door rattles quite harshly, causing your body to flinch and you take step back. Every nerve of your mind was consumed with fright, and sheer terror; you panicked, anxiously waiting for the door to be knocked open by someone of the two. Partly, you were scared to find Jongho on the other side. But, if it was Yunho, as you thought he was the one confronting Jongho, then you'd be relieved.

But...

Would you really?

If your memory serves you right, he was an accomplice in Jongho's crimes, helping his way to you. So, would you really trust him? Would you be relieved to find once he barges in through that door? Would you be willing to leap into his arms and hug him? The time would only tell because the hinges of the door had fallen on the floor. The person's brute strength had treated the door like a cardboard sheet, and it easily falls over, thudding against the floor.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, breathing ragged and your lips quivering; you take a few steps back, stumbling to the bed as a silhouette walks in.

"Oh, god. It's really you." You were sure that was Yunho's voice. "Fucking hell, we need to get out of here. Okay...here, take my hand."

Through the corners of your tearful eyes, you find him extending his hand over to you. Hesitations knocks your heart, but the remaining clarity of tour consciousness coaxes you to take his hand. It was Yunho after all; the very tall, handsome man from your work you could rely on for everything. To hell with your doubts about him, if he's here to help you, then maybe you should trust him. And trust him is what you do. He's dragging you out of the room, guiding you down the hallway to the living room.

Yunho's broad back covered you from witnessing a still scene in the living room. When he halts all so suddenly in his steps, you prevent yourself from colliding into his back and lean over to gaze at him in confusion. And your confusion grows to sheer horror when you find Jongho lying on the ground, blood pooling under his body which seemed to only grow with every passing second.

"What the fuck..." you mutter under your breath, your heart shattering bit by bit as you take in the view of your so-called lover lying lifeless on the floor. "What did you—what did you do, Yunho?"

The said man turns to glance at you, shaking his head as his voice turns grim and serious. "I'm trying to save you. This is nothing—the depths I would go through to keep you safe..."

"You—you...moonpie, don't leave me," Jongho's words are caught in his throat, moreover, he's disgruntled from all the pain.

Yunho's already tugging on your hand, having it intertwined with yours as tightly as he could to make sure you won't fall back into Jongho's trickery. He was right, knowing you would pity the man who had captured you and held you captive for months, you would pity the criminal because he was nothing short of kind to you.

In actuality, Jongho had done nothing wrong to you, right?

You shake your head, wanting to stay behind to help him, but to your despondent heart's desire, you couldn't get yourself to snatch your hand from Yunho's grip. Jongho's clothes were drenched in blood, his shirt soaking the crimson shade as much as it could; he was stabbed in his chest by a long shard of ceramic, probably from the mess of broken plates on the ground. Yunho keeps dragging you to the main door, but your attention was all on Jongho, how listlessly his eyes fluttered, and the slight tremble of his lips was heart wrenching...till it turns to a sullen smile, only widening thereafter.

Why was he smiling?

You were growing concerned.

It was then when you were forced to turn around, when you saw his eyes close forever, the contrasting crimson against the marble floor growing by twofold; he was long gone, and that sure as hell put you in a state of panic. Yunho's fingers dug into your skin, showing no signs of easing out, not until he had you in the passenger's seat of his car and him behind the wheel. It was nighttime. The moon was high struck in the sky, and the stars were nowhere to be seen; this was your first time witnessing the moon in so long, that everything felt foreign to you. The fresh air, the sounds of the crickets chirping, the empty street, the spot where Yunho's car was parked, all of it was so out of the ordinary that you were suffocating. The reality was tough to digest, but you still couldn't fathom that you were out of that sunless room, out of the turbid silence and hearing things you thought you weren't capable of.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Yunho starts inspecting your body with a haste, tugging at the collar of the dress you were wearing and studying your skin.

"I'm fine," you mumble back, comprehending the sound of his voice and his touch.

"What the fuck..." he grumbles, finding your skin littered with bruises and cuts, all the hickeys from your time together with Jongho.

The cuts weren't exactly deep, and Jongho would only leave them behind for the purpose to intensify the pleasure between you two. They were almost healed, with murky scabs forming already. You wanted to push Yunho's hands away from you, wanting him to stop perusing your body as you were ashamed to show it to him.

"What were you thinking?" he shakes his head, pulling himself back to loosen his coat from his shoulder. He wraps it around you, and you start to shiver; not because you were cold or anything, because it was your first time feeling genuine affection instead of the feigned one. "This is atrocious."

"How did you find me?"

"The better questions here should be, are you okay? Did he do anything to you? What...what the hell happened?" he sighs, "we were all so worried about you." Taking a deep breath, he turns right ahead, and you do too, "the cops were useless to us after two days, you know. Because Jongho had made sure your case appears to them as a runaway and not abduction."

You quietly listen to him, facing the front and watching the night pass you by. Everything was still new to you, after months of spending your time confined in a room, of course it was natural to feel strangled in the open air.

Yunho grips the steering wheel, tight enough for his knuckles to turn while. "Your apartment was unscathed, so it was clear no one tried to abduct you. They ruled out every suspicion on Jongho because of the evidence. A lot happened after you went missing—when the cops gave up, we tried to find clues in your apartment."

Silence covers the two of you, like a warm hug from a blanket, before he decides to break it. "Na-Ra and her boyfriend never gave up; they tried calling your hometown and asking your whereabouts. I was busy going through your apartment and Jongho...he always found a way to divert our investigation."

"Until one day he got too squirrelly when we asked him about you. It was only logical to, he was your neighbour and your landlord...it made sense," his voice breaks, "he never let us in his apartment either. My suspicions only grew from that moment."

"He said..." you speak up, glancing at him to find him resting his head on the steering wheel; but hearing your voice he turns his head to face you. "He said...he had been planning this for a while. Kept an eye on me. Watched my every move."

"He surely did," Yunho lets out a satirical chuckle, "bastard had cameras installed everywhere in your apartment. Even your old one. It creeped out Na-Ra."

"You don't say," you whisper, looking away.

"He has a spare room in his apartment; filled with screens, you know, all those cameras keeping an eye on you," Yunho mutters, "I should've known it before, he was obsessed with you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so eager to help you out."

"Were you in on this?" you question, catching him off guard.

"Why would I be in on this?" he gasps, "I wasn't. He told you I was, didn't he?"

You nod, pursing your lips together. "I don't know what to believe anymore. I can't even tell if I should trust you or not."

"You should," he mumbles, "as a friend I was worried sick about you."

"I don't doubt that."

"Really, trust me. I'm not going to hurt you." He repeats himself.

"I know you won't but..."

"But?"

"What about Jongho? Is he really—"

"Dead? Yeah." He sighs, as if he had been holding it for long. "I aimed for his heart; pretty sure I got it."

"So, you killed him?"

"I already told you; I would go to any extent to keep you safe." He murmurs.

"So, what do we do now?" you ask because you were starting to panic.

You look at him, and he had been staring at you for a long time. He shakes his head, letting a smile cross his face, "we do nothing. We have no choice. Someone will find his body; the rot makes it easier to."

"And about you, you will have to restart your life pretending nothing happened."

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #smut #atz #choi jongho x reader #choi jongho smut #choi jongho #psychopath au #request #jongho x reader #yunho x reader

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chahnniesroom · 10 months

Text

tenderness | chapter 6: on my own

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 4.8k

chapter warnings: jealousy (? not really a warning, but i'll include it anyway)

a/n: i was blown away by the response for chapter 5 (and the rest of the fic too). thank you everyone so much!! can't believe that we're already past the halfway point of tenderness, hope that everyone continues to enjoy it!

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

It feels like you’ve barely fallen asleep by the time that your alarm wakes you. The hum of Charge between you and Chan is faint through the layers of clothing that you wear. For once, it doesn’t bring you any comfort. Although the two of you had maintained physical contact throughout the night, it feels like you’re miles away compared to the previous nights that you’ve spent curled around each other. You have no idea when he had finally gotten back to the dorms even though you had a fitful sleep.

The second you extricate yourself from the sheets and break contact from Chan, your stomach drops. Exhaustion seeps into you and you have to steady yourself on your bedside table to avoid losing your balance. In his sleep, Chan shifts, rolling towards the warm spot where you were previously lying, but doesn’t wake up. Remembering what happened last night makes things worse, so you do your best to compartmentalise it so that you can focus on the day ahead. One day with less sleep and less Charge can't hurt you, you think to yourself.

When you check the time on your phone, you realise that you must have slept through your first alarm and you’re going to be late if you don’t leave in 15 minutes. The adrenaline is enough to fully wake you up and you stumble to the bathroom in the dark. Somehow, after getting ready as fast as you can without waking anybody, you make it to the company in time. You’re lucky that the early hours mean that transiting was smoother than usual and you didn’t have to fight your way onto the bus.

You unpack your things at your desk and head down to the room that was booked for the interviews planned for the day. The bright studio lighting that has already been set up exacerbates a pounding in your head that you hadn’t noticed before, but you ignore it to greet the staff that are already there.

When Eunsung enters the room and sees you, concern immediately creeps into his expression. He sidles up to you and bumps your shoulder with his.

“Rough night?”

You lean in close to him and whisper as if sharing a secret, "stayed up late rewatching a drama."

"Ah," Eunsung nods, immediately accepting your lie at face value. "Which one?"

"Moonlight Lovers. Last few episodes."

"Say no more. I've never been able to watch that without shedding a tear." You both laugh at that, knowing Eunsung could cry at a sad commercial. You don't know if he believes your story, but you're just grateful that he's playing along that nothing is wrong. He knows better than to prod too much, it’s a sure way to get you to instead close down even more.

"Is it really that obvious?" you ask quietly, fingers reaching up to poke the eye bags that you had hastily covered up this morning. You’re pretty sure that last night you had done a decent enough job making sure that your eyes wouldn’t be swollen today, but hadn’t had a chance to look at it carefully. Since you had barely enough time to get ready, you had hoped that you might be able to touch up your makeup more before starting work, but had been swept away in preparations the second you had arrived.

"No, I just know you too well." He laughs when you swat his shoulder half-heartedly.

The boys file into the room right after you’re finishing getting everything ready, but before you have a chance to leave the room. You smile and greet them with the rest of the staff, but studiously avoid looking at Chan. Just the brief glance when he had first walked in had stung. He looked… normal. Maybe a bit tired, but he always looked tired and well, that was what had gotten you into this mess in the first place.

Maybe to him, last night was just another night and you were being too sensitive. But his harsh words had reopened a wound in you that you thought had long scarred over. Somehow, it hurt even more thinking that he was totally unaffected.

You quickly try to pack up everything you need, handing out a timeline of the day to the team who are helping film that outlined which interview is for which company, what props, if any, are required, and whether or not a company representative would be present to help facilitate the interview. You make sure Eunsung has a copy of all the questions that Stray Kids are supposed to be asked and which are off limits, both in English and Korean. Almost all of the members are familiar enough with English that the interviews go smoothly without any other help, but a lot of the staff aren’t as fluent. You have a quick chat with the company translator and make sure she’s also comfortable with the schedule and what’s expected of her.

After making sure that everything on your checklist has been completed, you finally grab your things and leave, almost colliding with Felix in the hallway.

“Oh, you’re not staying, Y/n?” He asks, grabbing onto your arms to steady both of you. He smiles at you and you return it but look away quickly, not wanting to meet his eyes, and shrug off his hands.

“Sorry, I have some meetings that I can’t miss this morning. I hope the interviews go well Felix-ssi!” you call as you head to the elevator. When you glance back, his smile has faltered and he’s still standing in the hallway, looking a bit lost.

You’re not sure if he’s more surprised that you’re not going to be attending the schedule or your sudden return to addressing him formally. You had done your best to keep things more professional while at the company, but it had been surprisingly difficult, especially when most other managers also addressed the members more casually.

You feel a bit guilty, but last night had served as an important reminder that no matter how close you seemed or felt, you were still just staff. This time, you won't forget your place.

—

When you finally get back to your desk and open up your laptop after finishing all your meetings for the morning, you despair at the number of emails that have piled up in your absence. You start to sift through them, filing away the ones that don’t require any response. It’s probably a good thing that you’re not in a hurry to see Chan or any of the members, there’s a lot of work that you have to do in the next few days and not enough time to be distracted by attending schedules.

Your phone pings and you see a message from Eunsung waiting.

[12:14 pm - received]

lunch?

Huh, you hadn’t even realised it was already noon. Even though you hadn’t had a chance to eat this morning, you still don’t have much of an appetite. So far, tea has been enough to sustain you as well as provide the much needed caffeine after your late night. You’d had enough foresight to throw a protein bar into your bag before you left, but it still sits untouched on the side of your desk. You know that you should probably eat to help make up for the Charge that you missed last night, but you can't bring yourself to take a bite. Just looking at the bar is enough to make you nauseous so there's no way that you'd be able to stomach any other food.

[12:15 pm - sent]

sorry. have a mountain of work to do so i don’t have time today

[12:15 pm - received]

want me to bring something to you?

[12:17 pm - sent]

no thanks! i’m fine for now

[12:17 pm - received]

you sure?

[12:19 pm - sent]

please do not bring me anything.

[12:19 pm - received]

:(((

:((((((((

Amused, you lock and put away your phone and focus on your work. You really are scrambling to finish everything and probably wouldn't have taken a break even in normal circumstances.

Only 15 minutes have passed before there’s a knock at the door. Nobody else is using this work area today and you’ve learned over the years that Eunsung is one of the most persistent people you know.

“Oppa,” you whine, not bothering to look away from your screen. “I told you I didn’t need anything for lunch.”

“Uhm.” Your neck hurts with the speed that you whip your head around to look. Chan’s standing halfway through the open door, looking out of his depth.

He’s still in his outfit for the press junket, hair carefully styled and makeup immaculate. He looks like a different person. Sometimes you forget that the bare-faced, curly-haired boy in shorts and a hoodie that you’re used to is the same as the polished idol that is presented in front of the camera. He seems so far away, even though he’s right in front of you.

“Sorry, I thought you were Eunsung-oppa. He was… teasing me earlier,” you explain, embarrassed.

"Ah," he says. "You didn't eat yet?"

“Not yet, I’ll get something later,” you lie. “I have a lot of work to do.”

"Oh, okay. We have a break right now. I wanted to talk." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “About… you know. Yesterday.”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, forcing yourself to smile. You try to stay concentrated on the email that you have to send, but it’s hard enough to think of the right English words to use when you're alone. Instead, you stare at the blinking text cursor, already wanting this conversation to be over. Maybe it was better when you thought he didn’t care about what he had said to you.

“No, it’s not fine. I shouldn’t have said all those things. I was too harsh. I hurt you. I'm sorry,” he insists, stepping closer.

You finally turn to look back at him, but still can't get yourself to look him in the eye, instead focusing on the cut of his jaw. His hair has grown long enough that curls are starting to gather below his ear even after styling. You wonder how long it will be until the stylists are able to wrestle him away from his laptop and into a chair to cut it again.

“Okay. It’s not fine,” you concede. “But I forgive you. I understand that you felt frustrated. I can tell that you’ve been wanting to talk for a while and I’m glad that I know how you feel now. The delivery was just… poor, but it’s really not a big deal.”

That's not a lie, but your fingers start to curl into your palm anyway, nails digging into the flesh there. The tiny pricks of pain ground you, not stopping the hurt that came from Chan's words from echoing in your head like they had been the whole day, but distracting you from it.

I don’t need you bringing me food. I don’t need you reminding me about schedules. And I definitely don’t need or want you telling me when I should be resting.

It stung, especially knowing what he really meant when he said that.

I don't need you.

Looking back, you could see how you were acting overbearing. Yes, there was a soulmate bond connecting you two, but really that didn’t give you permission to act in such a familiar way. More than anything else he had mentioned, it had left a bitter taste in your mouth that he compared you to your eomoni when he now had the insight that your relationship with her had caused you so much pain. It hurt even more to think that maybe that was the reason he had mentioned her, that you had been that much of a burden.

No matter what he argues now, there was truth in what he said in the heat of the moment, frustration and lack of sleep bringing forth his honest thoughts.

I’m good now! I’m really good now. I was also good when you were not here. When you were not my soulmate.

You had never really considered what things would be like if you weren’t soulmates, there had been no point in it. Well, you hadn’t considered it until yesterday. After half an hour of trying to sleep with no sign of Chan returning, you had rolled onto your side and reached for your phone. With shaky fingers, you had pulled up Naver and typed in 'can you break a soulmate bond.'

The results had confirmed what you thought. There was no evidence of a bond being broken before. Of course, it was possible for soulmates to live apart from each other for extended periods of time. It just required more food, more water, more rest for both people in order to compensate. That seemed even more inconvenient than the current situation and you knew it would never work for you and Chan.

This was the next best solution. You promised yourself that he wouldn't have to pretend that he wanted you around anymore. You'd keep your distance, stay professional, just like you had done before your First Touch.

“It’s not how I feel, I was just-” Chan protests.

“Chan-ssi,” you interrupt gently, hiding your feelings by reverting back to the formal speech that you had used when you first met. He blinks in surprise. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from me. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m really okay.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I do. I wanted to clear up everything. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was stressed.” He explains, cheeks slowly turning pink. “There was just a lot happening and then you were there and I don’t know what happened. I really really shouldn’t have yelled. It won’t happen again.”

“I believe you,” you say. “Thank you for apologising. You can go now.”

Maybe it’s a bit harsh as Chan visibly blanches, before his expression is wiped clean.

“Oh, okay.”

“Sorry,” you say, making sure to soften your voice. “I just. I really do have a lot that I have to finish right now. I appreciate that you came to talk to me, though. I’ll see you later.”

“Right, see you later.” Chan echoes faintly and turns towards the door. After it closes, there’s a long pause before you finally hear his footsteps resume.

—

The rest of the weeks before you leave for Japan seem to somehow simultaneously crawl by and pass in a flash. You’re frustrated by how unproductive you feel like you are at work compared to the amount of things you have to do because you keep getting distracted, but once you’re off, there’s nothing that you want to do. You spend an disconcerting amount of time catching yourself staring at your phone not realising it has already timed out and all you’re looking at is a black screen.

When you confess this to Eunsung, he starts dragging you out for dinner with the rest of the team. It keeps you busy and you have fun in the moment, but every time you get back to the dorms, the emptiness that has been plaguing you creeps back in.

It’s the same today. When you enter your room, there’s no sign of Chan other than the clothes that he was wearing earlier sitting on a pile on his side of the bed.

It’s no surprise to you, he’s been alternating between being out late at night, either in the studio or working out, or hunched over his laptop with his headphones on. You’ve gotten used to it by now and honestly don’t mind the decreasing number of interactions that you’ve had. On the surface, things are fine between the two of you, but everything is stilted in a way that it wasn’t before. Your relationship, whatever it was prior to that night in Chan's studio, has been strained and you don’t want to do anything to test the breaking point.

You shower quickly and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. When you pass through the living room, Felix is sprawled out on the couch, doing something on his phone. He straightens, legs falling back to the floor when he sees you.

“Hey stranger,” you greet him, instinctively smiling. In the safety of the dorms, with his hair fluffed up to form a dandelion puff around his head, you can’t help but treat Felix with the warm familiarity that you’ve tried to restrain the past few weeks. You had been friends with him way before the mess of your relationship with Chan and you feel guilty every time you see him at the company.

“Y/n! It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. How have you been?” You make a face at that.

“Work is crazy, you know. I think I’ve been dreaming about planning the tour, it’s basically all I think about these days.” You shrug. “But I can’t complain, I really like doing this and it’s not like you guys are spending the days relaxing. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” You abandon your task of getting water and settle beside Felix who puts an arm around your shoulders to tug you closer.

“I miss you,” Felix says quietly. “I know that you don't have time to come to our schedules anymore, but I miss having you there.”

“Aw, Felix. I miss you too. You can always come and find me, I’m never going to be far.” You wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on chest. You don't tell him that it was more a choice by you rather than time constraints that led you to stop attending schedules. Felix is well intentioned, but you know he would immediately confront Chan if he found out that you weren't as 'okay' as you had assured Chan and that would just make things worse. You don't want to be more of a bother than you already are.

“What were you doing on your phone?” you ask after a moment of silence. Felix picks back up his phone and unlocks it. He has to turn it horizontal to properly show you the screen and the motion means that his arms encircle you.

“It’s a new game I’ve been playing,” he explains. “I’m still not that good, but it’s been fun! I thought Hannie would be around to play with me, but I think he’s still at the company.”

“Show me how it works,” you prompt him. You aren’t really interested in mobile games, but are rewarded when his face lights up. He starts by giving a quick tutorial of the game and showing off all the characters he plays as, before continuing on where he had left off.

The steady beat of Felix’s heart combined with the gentle rumble of his commentary and the constant exhaustion that plagues you these days easily lulls you into a semi-conscious state. You’re not quite fully asleep, but only partially aware of what’s going on around you. You keep thinking that you should get up so that Felix isn't stuck on this couch with you, but can't muster up the energy to actually move.

Eventually, you hear the front door open and footsteps pad towards the two of you.

“Is she sleeping?” a voice that isn’t Felix’s whispers.

“Yeah, she must have been pretty tired, hyung. I think she fell asleep almost an hour ago.”

“Thanks for taking care of her, Lix. I’ll bring her back to our room.”

A pair of hands ease under you and shifts your weight from Felix and into the person’s arms. The Charge sparks to life and you can’t help but lean into the comforting buzz, nestling into the warm hold.

It must be Chan, you think blearily.

You want to protest that you can walk yourself, that you don’t have to be carried back, but the Charge feels so good and so safe that you just relax further. It’s only a short walk down the hall, but the gentle rocking puts you back to sleep before you reach the bed.

—

Trying to balance concert practice, promotional photoshoots, and getting approvals for the next comeback means that it takes Chan an embarrassing amount of time to notice that something’s off.

It starts with the little things.

In between filming for a dance practice video, the members get a short break. Everybody collapses in different parts of the room, only getting up when a staff member enters with a couple trays of drinks. A small crowd forms and Chan waits until everyone else has taken their pick before heading over. He’s disappointed to find that there’s only iced americanos left. When he instead goes to fill his water bottle, he finds Felix already at the fountain.

“You didn’t get a drink?” Chan asks. Felix scrunches up his nose in response.

“They only had coffee today.”

“Don’t they usually have other options? I thought you’ve been getting that fruit tea these days.”

“That’s only when Y/n is organising the order. She always tries to get me things I like.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her.”

“Come on, hyung, you’re the one that’s her soulmate, shouldn’t you know this? She’s the only one that remembers to get that weird custom protein chocolate smoothie thing that you always drink.”

“I-” Chan stops to think. It’s true that he had been favouring a strange specialised order from one of the cafes that they usually get drinks from. He had stopped by there one afternoon when he had been in the area, then mentioned it off-handedly when eating lunch with the team and from then on it had appeared at a lot of their schedules. Most of the time, a staff member’s phone gets passed around to order their drinks or they just get served a variety of drinks to pick over, but now that he’s trying to recall, it’s been a while since either of those have happened.

He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, he’d just been happy to have a drink that he liked. He hadn’t even realised that Y/n was the one behind their personalised orders, but feels off-kilter knowing that he had never thanked her for it.

—

Y/n hasn’t attended Channie’s Room in weeks either. Chan knows that everyone on her team has been scrambling with work related to the international legs of the tour, but even with a heavy workload, Y/n had never missed an episode before. Having her in the room had been a quiet comfort that Chan hadn’t appreciated at the time as much as he should have.

He misses her.

It doesn’t feel the same. Chan finds himself playing a song and turning slightly to see what Y/n’s reaction is, or reading out a silly pick up line and then feeling his smile drop a little bit when he realises Y/n wasn’t there to hear it.

He’d like to say that he’s playing it off well, but Stays can see it too. It’s almost embarrassing how fast they catch on. The comments that scroll by, most of them too fast for Chan to read, are getting increasingly concerned for him. Where previously they had spammed messages about how happy he seemed, they’re now pointing out that he looks tired, that something is different. After enough people tell him to eat more or get more rest, he just ends the stream, annoyed and guilty at the same time.

—

Another time, Chan’s spending the evening in his studio with Changbin and Jisung, trying to finalise a guide for one of the tracks they’re planning to record.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know noona was close with Minyoung,” Jisung says. When Changbin makes a noise of interest from where he’s sitting beside Chan, Jisung flips around his phone to show them an Instagram story that Minyoung, one of their stylists, had posted. Y/n, Minyoung, Eunsung, and a number of other people are crammed together in a booth at a dimly lit restaurant. They’re all smiling widely.

Chan looks a little too long at the way that Eunsung’s arm is slung around Y/n. Even after Jisung takes his phone back, Chan keeps thinking of how natural it looked, Eunsung at the perfect height so Y/n could rest her head against him, his hand curled around her shoulder, pressing her tightly against his side.

He can't remember the last time he saw Y/n smile like that.

“It makes sense,” Changbin comments. “Y/n hasn’t been spending as much time in the dorms lately, but the tour is coming up so close. I’ve heard that her team has been going out a lot to try to keep up morale and get to know each other before we leave. It’d probably be suspicious if she keeps cancelling."

"I wish we could have team bonding dinners to keep up morale before the tour." Jisung pouts.

"That's what this is!" Changbin gestures towards the spread of empty takeout containers that fill Chan's desk.

"That's the dinner part, where's the bonding, hyung?"

In response, Changbin immediately pulls Jisung into a headlock causing him to shout.

"Don't you feel closer to me now?" Changbin looks up at where Chan is zoned out. "Hyung, don't we look close?"

"Uh, yeah. Super close. Can we just focus on finishing this guide first and leave the bonding for later? I promised that we'd send it for review by tonight."

Contrary to his words, Chan’s thoughts continually wander, straying to the blurry image of Y/n. They get the guide sent off, but Chan's not fully satisfied and he can tell the others agree.

He doesn’t know what's wrong with him.

—

Really, Chan should have known that something is up the evening he finds Felix over at their dorms.

A flare of something curls in his stomach at the sight of Y/n curled up against Felix. When she turns her head, nuzzling his chest, that something becomes a sharp twist of emotion, one that Chan still isn’t able to identify.

He knows that Felix is strong enough to carry her to bed, but still steps in and scoops her up before he can make an attempt to get up. He lays her down on her side of the bed as gently as he can, but her face still scrunches up when he lets go of her. He cups her cheek until her expression smooths out, then steps back.

When he returns to the living room, he joins Felix on the couch and they stare ahead at the darkened screen of the TV for a moment. Chan can tell that Felix has something he wants to say.

“Do you think she’s been working too much, hyung?” Felix finally asks in a hushed voice.

“What do you mean?”

“It just seems like she hasn’t been well recently. I don't know if something happened or if she just hasn't been getting enough rest.”

“It’s probably her job,” Chan says noncommittally. He's definitely not thinking about a late night in his studio a few weeks ago. "Everyone has been busy these days.”

“Hyung,” he says tentatively. “You’ve been working a lot lately too, we’re a bit concerned-”

“What is this, some sort of intervention?” Chan’s not quite sure where the sudden burst of irritation is from, but it seems to be a common occurrence these days. “First Y/n, then I can’t get Stays off my back, and now you? Why is everyone ganging up on me so much?”

“No, it’s-”

“Felix! Just leave it, okay?" Shaking his head in frustration, Chan stalks back to his room.

Sitting heavily on the bed, he buries his face in his hands and lets out a deep breath to calm himself. Luckily he didn't wake Y/n during his conversation with Felix and he takes the time to study her for a moment.

He has to admit that Felix is right, under her eyes are shadows that never used to be there and even in her sleep, she's not fully relaxed. It's just for the next few days, he tells himself. After my deadlines have passed and once the concerts resume then we'll both be less busy and have the time to focus on each other.

In the meantime, he slides under the covers until he's right behind Y/n. He loops his arm around her waist, then pulls her closer, relieved when he sees that the tension in her body drains away.

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ccbunnv · 4 months

Note

A valentines day with Tokio Hotel? (Not hcs) like the reader (f) is crying over the fact that she doesnt have a valentine, that nobody gave her a love note at school and she's never going to find love etc. Maybe they are like comforting her or something? You can think of the rest how you want to! Thank you if you do it!

(Btw if you decide that someone confesses from the guys, I'd like it to be Bill🙏🏻)

i got this when valentine's was over in my country i freaked over it so bad

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 tokio hotel x fem! reader fluff,, bill x fem! reader fluff

the school bus felt so suffocating, hearing those kids coo at their lovers for being 'cute', or whatever. your heart sinks, and you felt so mad. your hands play with the strings of your hoodie jacket, wondering what you had done wrong.

was it because of the way you looked?

the bus comes to a stop in front of your house and you get off, trudging over to the front door where you simply swung it open. you enter the house, noticing that your mom and dad were on the couch, watching some sort of romcom from their time.

"oh hello, honey! how was school?" your mom asks.

"any love letters, sweets?" your dad adds in with a laugh.

you break into tears, running upstairs. events from today flash in your mind, from the minute you stepped into school to the last hour of class. you remember how everything was normal, and although couples were getting together beside you, you were all alone.

you didn't receive any chocolates, no love notes, no confessions. your friends didn't even give you any sweets. you remembered the day as boring and long, filled with students coddling their partners and kissing in every hallway.

you hated this holiday so much.

you shut the door and locked it, throwing your bag onto the ground and jumping into your bed. you bury your face into your plush pillow, as you try to think of any reasons you weren't given anything for this valentine's.

was it because you were too ugly? was it because you had no sex appeal to any hormonal teen boys in your school? was it because of the way you dressed? should you have showed off a little today?

questions buzz through your head like a cloud of annoying mosquitoes. you swallow the lump in your throat as you try to hold back the tears, but in the heat of the moment, your heart allows it.

tears wet your soft, white pillow, and you cry about the fact that a girl like you will never find any sort of love. that you're practically unloveable, and you won't ever meet your special someone.

𓆩♱𓆪

Tom, Bill, Georg and Gustav decide to drop by a few minutes after your return to hang around, since there was nothing to do. you've known the four since you were all in primary school, and they see you as a close friend.

your parents greet them as they tread into your house, and they return the greeting.

"good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. l/n!" Bill says, smiling widely as Tom walks over to raid your fridge, "is y/n home yet?"

"yeah," your dad says, "Tom, do you mind handing me the beer?"

Tom shrugs and stands, walking back to your dad and handing him the ice cold alcohol. your dad graciously accepts it and opens it while Tom's snacking on a strawberry shortcake that your mom bought.

"is she in her room?" Bill asks again.

"yeah, but..." your mom trails off, before mouthing to Bill, "no love letters."

Bill grimaces, and turns to face the three of them. Tom swallows the cake in his mouth and asks softly, "what the hell do we do?"

"I don't know." Georg responds, "do we like...write cards for her or something?"

"yeah, we can do that," Gustav says, "I think the chocolate's also 20% off today."

"alright then," Bill breathes in and out, "for her."

"I don't see the point in thi--"

"because girls flock to you, Tom, this is your friend we're talking about. put that cake down and let's go."

"fine."

𓆩♱𓆪

you fell asleep after your little breakdown, and you find that the sun had already set halfway. you yawn, rolling out of bed and walking over to your bathroom to take a much needed shower.

maybe you'd throw in a bath as well, just for good measure. but you felt too lethargic for that, so you didn't.

once you finished showering, you felt so much better. your hands skim through your drawers full of clothes, and you fish out a pair of pyjamas for tonight.

you brushed and dried your hair, and did your skin care. but then, you hear two knocks on your door. then, four valentine's day cards slip under into your room from the bottom seam of the door.

first one was a cute carebear one, and when you opened it, it smelled sweet and fruity. it read, 'happy valentine's! you're appreciated and i'm bear-y glad to be your friend :D.'

only Gustav would make such a pun. you laugh a little at it.

then, you pick up the next card. it had pink borders and hearts around its side, and upon opening it, it didn't smell like anything but the words that accompanied it was, 'happy valentine's. you mean the world to me!'

it took you a while, but it was probably Georg.

then, the next one was covered in red with a little snoopy in the middle, holding a red heart. you open it up and notice Tom's handwriting immediately. 'happy valentine's! you rock my world! and my bed, soon. ;)'

you laugh a little at his very typical sex joke.

then, the last one was black with red borders and hearts, accompanied with skulls. you open it, and there's a paragraph that's written only for you, in Bill's handwriting.

'you don't have to cry about a bunch of kids not giving you any chocolates or cards for this valentine's, you're worth more than that. you're kind, funny, and pretty, too, and i want nothing more than to see you happy. happy valentine's, y/n. xoxo'

you heart throbs as you read it again and again. you store all their cards carefully, before a knock on your door alerts you. you open it up, and you see Bill, standing there awkwardly, with a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

"hi, y/n." he greets.

you smile, "hi, Bill."

"so, I was just thinking, um..." he stammers, "er, see, I rented this cool new horror CD, and I was thinking and all...if you wanted to, um..."

"if you wanted to, um, er, um! be a man, Bill!" Tom scolds from the side, which makes you giggle.

"halt den mund, Tom!" Bill snaps at his older brother, who laughs with Georg and Gustav.

"so...?" you ask softly, smiling at him.

"I was thinking if you wanted to watch it with me...?" he finishes his sentence, smiling a little.

you giggle and nod, taking his hand and pulling him into your bedroom.

maybe valentine's day isn't so bad.

#tokio hotel #y2k #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #fluff #bill kaulitz fluff #valentines day

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spop-romanticizes-abuse · 6 months

Text

so i just found some old interviews of spop, especially ones after the finale, and i just wanted to dissect some of the interesting parts:

the crew themselves keep reinforcing the idea that only catra saw adora for who she is, when the show itself says otherwise multiple times. catra, who mocked adora for never being a true hero, who kept hurting adora because she resented her for being she-ra, who kept saying that adora has a hero complex and that she is full of herself. that catra “motivated and inspired” adora?

“i wanted their romance to be the central arc”

this explains everything. the fact that they took an existing show with an intriguing fantasy world and so much potential and then reduced it to “cute lesbians kiss haha”. if you're gonna write a show about romance, do that. you don't have to butcher an already existing series for that.

“it reveals how that arc has been built”

what arc? is the arc we're talking about in the same room as us? because from what i can see, they put in zero effort to make c//a's development even halfway coherent. catgirl tortures hero for four seasons, gets saved by said hero and joins the good guys, continues torturing hero. how is that an arc?

so.. they have the right idea here. catra and adora did indeed need to take their time away from each other and deal with their problems. but did they? adora came close to building her self-esteem and realizing that she didn't have to take responsibility for everything around her. but then all that was reversed in s5 when she was forced into a relationship with the same person who ruined her sense of self-worth in the first place.

catra.. doesn't even try. the closest she got to moving on from her past was during her time in the crimson waste but then she ends up spiralling even deeper into toxicity, adding more and more into her list of crimes. in s5, she is shown to reflect on her relationship with adora but does she learn anything from it? nope. she continues abusing and berating adora, she continues giving adora mixed signals and relying on adora to do all the work in the relationship.

so the crew seemingly had the right idea (although i'd say they still shouldn't get into a relationship, even after they've worked on their issues) but never followed through. instead they gave us a lazy and rushed redemption, where the wrongdoer never works on their flaws and instead puts all the blame on their partner. amazing.

so nate himself admits that not all of catra's actions were justified. but then, why does the show try to justify them? why does the show justify catra abusing adora by implying that it's because adora abandoned her? why does the show justify all of catra's toxic and abusive behaviour by blaming it solely on shadow weaver? if catra's actions cannot be justified, the narrative should keep her accountable, which they don't.

secondly, i'll try not to assume the worst of nate's personality from what he said, and just get to the important part.

“It's other people's decision to forgive you, that's not a given, but also there are ways for you to fix what's broken. You have to work hard to prove yourself again, you have to actually actively fix what's done, it's not as simple as a sacrifice.”

i'm so confused. the way nate says it, you'd think he applied all of this to catra's arc. but he didn't. “it's not as simple as a sacrifice” but a sacrifice was all it took for catra to be forgiven by her victims. she doesn't work on herself, her apologies were shallow, and she continues repeating the same mistakes. “it's other people's decision to forgive you” yet every single character forgives catra immediately and none of them are allowed to stay mad at her.

how could you write such a bad redemption and then talk about it as if it had all the details and nuance it was lacking? again, when speaking, nate seems to have the right idea of how to write a redemption arc. why did they fumble so badly when it came to actually executing it in the story? the only answer i can think of is that none of the writers in the crew are good at writing.

#spop critical #spop #spop salt #spop criticism #spop discourse #she ra #anti catradora #anti catra #anti c//a #anti spop #antic//a #anticatra #anticatradora

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 9 months

Text

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 13: June II

{{ Chapter 12: May I | Chapter 14: July II }} Chapter Directory

ayyyye we're halfway there folks, steamrolling into the second year

if you wanna get tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, mutual pining, idiots in love, negative self-talk ✧ word count ➼ ~5.1k

You were looking for a new place to live back in April after your spat with Levi, but that intention was nowhere to be found now. You signed the lease renewal without hesitation. Part of you told yourself that it was because you just didn't have time to look for another apartment that was affordable.

A more realistic part of you was acutely aware that the decision (or lack thereof) was at least partially affected by the fact that you were growing much closer with your roommate. The idea of not being able to see him regularly gave you an odd discomforting feeling, especially after your chat on the Ferris Wheel. He really was the one major connection currently in your life and you couldn’t imagine throwing that away.

"Great," Levi grumbled as he filed the renewed lease away. "I'm stuck with you for another year?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you mumbled with an eye roll. "You know Hange snitched to me about how you were saying that I'm much better at cleaning than Miche was?"

You glanced over at Levi as he scoffed.

"Miche was okay at cleaning, just not being organized."

You placed both your hands on your hips and gave Levi a cocky grin.

"And I'm good at both, right?!"

"Certainly weren't at first," he grumbled, which prompted you to stick your tongue out at him again, which he immediately waved off. He watched as you walked to and from the bathroom, throwing towels amongst various items like a bathing suit and sunscreen into a gym bag.

You dug through the bag, taking a mental note of everything that was in there to check if you had forgotten anything.

"You're not bringing a swimming suit?" you asked, looking at Levi over your shoulder.

"And immerse myself in the filthy ocean water that's filled with who knows what? Fuck no."

You were much more excited for this beach trip than you were willing to admit. Unlike the amusement park, this wasn't an official outing that you had to be responsible for. Some of the freshmen (soon to be sophomores) in the Honors Society decided that they wanted to check out the beach and you elected to tag along. What you didn't expect was for Levi to also tag along.

"You know you don't have to come," you noted with a serious expression. "Even if you don't touch the water, the sand's also messy and will get into your shoes and clothes."

Levi knew that you had a point. His surroundings were going to be filthy regardless of if he swam or not. He would never willingly find himself at the beach. The water was gross, the sand was messy, and the public bathrooms were generally disgusting. There were too many people and parking was always a nightmare.

The reason he was going was because of you, although he'd never openly admit to it. Hanging out with you has been enjoyable and he found himself missing you whenever you were gone. The prime example was how he had reacted over spring break. You were gone for only a few days and he found himself feeling resentful and grumpy over it, to the point that he ended up being enough of a dick to you to drive you to somehow end up at your ex-boyfriend’s.

"It's monotonous and dull here," he rationalized. "Maybe being around you and the brats you hang out with will annoy me enough to want to come back home and be alone."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you saying you're enjoying hanging out with me, then?"

"Tch," Levi scoffed, avoiding eye contact with you. "Of course not."

You continued to give him a skeptical look, not believing a single word that was coming out of his mouth, but you otherwise didn't push it.

"Well, if you change your mind, you don't have to come."

"I'm driving."

"I can catch a ride with someone else!"

When you looked back towards Levi, you saw that he was clearly scowling at you.

"...Just shut up and finish packing."

~~~~~

“Surprised you came along, Levi!”

“Trust me, I didn’t want to at first,” Levi mumbled with a scoff, throwing a side glance over at Nicolo. He had just learned that Nicolo was the point of contact for setting up this trip. His connection with Sasha led to the connection with you, which is how you found yourself here primarily with the freshmen instead of with the other officers of the Honors Society that you usually found yourself hanging out around.

Levi kept his eyes on you, although he wasn’t entirely aware of that himself. He watched as you splashed around in the water, throwing a blow-up tube over you. You struggled to get onto it at first, which tugged at the corners of his lips into a small, amused smile. He wasn’t feeling malicious about watching you struggle, he actually found it quite cute.

That smile got quickly replaced with a frown as he had that disturbing thought again about you.

“_____ drag you here?”

Levi peeled his eyes away from you, trying to push down the feelings of unease and confusion that were becoming more prominent within him.

“Something like that.”

Nicolo got distracted as soon as Sasha came up to him and called his name, carrying a paper bag that was filled with groceries and grilling material. From what little Levi could see, it seemed the newly formed couple was planning on having a grill-out later in the day. At least it meant that he'd be able to get away from the beach eventually.

As the two walked off, Levi was left on his own to stew in his own thoughts. He would usually never find himself here. He even adamantly dodged answering Hange when they asked where he was going on his day off, being more willing to let them theorize about whatever it is that he was up to over letting them know that you had successfully dragged him to somewhere like the beach. He had been here for a few hours at this point and had yet to even step into the sand.

He was avoiding the beach itself, but it did end up being awkward for him to be hanging by himself when he purposefully came to a social event. His reasoning in February was because he only went to make sure you didn’t find yourself in trouble again. He had no such reason now.

Levi found himself annoyed because he really was questioning why he bothered with coming. You had jokingly accused him of enjoying spending time with you, but that couldn’t possibly be the case. It was purely because he needed to get away from the school and apartment, and your trip just happened to be at a convenient time for him.

Part of him knew that was a lie.

As he watched you floating around leisurely on that blow-up tube, he felt this strange pull to approach you. However, you were in the water and he was adamantly against going anywhere near the water. Even the thought of stepping into the water filled him with a sense of disgust.

Levi sighed and groaned to himself. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to stay here. He didn’t want to go towards you either.

Noticing a local pub and the fact that it was a little past noon, he elected to simply get something to eat.

It wasn’t much better there, either.

It was crowded, the music was too loud, and it was too small of a space. At this point, he was more than grumpy enough to seriously consider maybe leaving and hanging out by himself in his car for the rest of the day, although he knew that you would give him nonstop shit about it if you found out about it—and knowing his luck, you’d definitely find out about it.

After finally getting to order and eat something that wasn’t completely covered in grease, he wandered around the downtown area, noting an ice cream shop nearby. While he normally wouldn’t be bothered to check it out, seeing the dessert shop immediately reminded him of you. The past few times that you had been upset over something, his first thought was to get you food as soon as he found out that you were food motivated. You obviously weren’t particularly upset about anything currently, but getting you food (or making you Matchas) had become one of his ways of spending time with you.

He scowled at the ice cream shop. He had insisted that he had come to the beach for himself and that it had nothing to do with spending time with you, but he knew that wasn’t true. It was also incredibly annoying that something as simple as an ice cream shop immediately reminded him of you.

Despite how tilted he found himself, he still ended up making his way towards the shop, unable to fight off the instinct of obtaining the one thing that never failed to uplift your mood.

~~~~~

It was hot enough that you were more than refreshed just hanging out in the water without a care in the world. You had just rolled into the water off of one of the blow-up tubes. You had originally elected to just sunbathe, but only lasted about ten minutes before you felt like the sun was frying you alive, prompting you to roll directly into the water.

You didn't particularly have a lot of stamina, so you were only able to swim without a floatie for about another ten minutes before you gave up and grabbed onto the blow-up tube and started wading towards land.

Once you finally got back to the shore, you tossed the tube to the side and began wringing out your hair before putting it up in a loose ponytail. You had left your bag near an umbrella for shade and dug out a towel to begin to dry yourself off, taking care to not get too much sand and water into the bag itself.

You looked around and saw that Jean, Connie, and Sasha were still screwing around in the water. Eren and Mikasa had come along as well, but they were currently nowhere to be found.

You didn't bring your usual group of friends with you. It's not that you wanted to intentionally leave them out, but you were starting to get sick of being the one inviting them to things. You were the one that was invited onto this trip, and for once, you weren't going to take the responsibility of who was coming or ensuring that everyone had a good time.

You couldn’t deny that you held some resentment towards them over what happened at the amusement park. You planned the whole thing, and got momentarily separated, and then they didn’t bother to check in with you for the rest of the day until they needed you for something logistical. You would be able to understand that it could have been a result of you also not reaching out, if this wasn’t a regular occurrence. It was excuse after excuse, and half the time it was you just making excuses for them. At this point, you didn’t even know if it was worth bringing it up or if you would just be met with defensiveness. You weren’t satisfied with being complacent, but you also didn’t want to put work into fixing a relationship if they weren’t also invested in repairing it.

By the time Levi had decided to actually step foot onto the beach, you had already set out a towel to sunbathe, propping up an umbrella behind you so that you had the option to take shelter in the shade in case it got too hot. Levi’s pacing slowed down once he got closer to you.

He could barely contain the discomfort radiating through his body when he saw you applying sunscreen onto your bare body. Your hands were currently roaming up and down your calves to your upper thigh, suddenly making your curves that much more obvious to him. It wasn't like he didn't see you in shorts (or even half-naked) before, but he suddenly felt the need to look away as if he was invading your private space. At the same time, he couldn't take his eyes off you.

Levi kinda awkwardly shuffled from side to side, unsure of what to do. He couldn't just stand there behind you without being a creep—plus, the ice cream would melt.

He cleared his throat, prompting you to look up at him, your face lighting up once you saw the ice cream cone in his hand.

"Oh, thank you," you said as you took the ice cream cone from him, your cheeks heating up a bit. "Wanna sit?"

You scooted over to the side a bit to give him space to also sit on your towel. You pulled your knees up to your chest while quietly licking at the ice cream cone, the cold custard bringing a refreshing feeling to your mouth. It was perfect for a day as hot as today.

Levi tried his best to avoid looking down at you past your face. Your bikini didn’t seem overly revealing at the time, but now he felt like he couldn’t help but notice how it looked on you. Your hair was pulled up into a ponytail, which revealed the nape of your neck and the sunscreen made your skin shimmer. He felt heat rapidly rising to his face and he forced himself to look away and focus on the coldness of the ice cream instead to try to get himself out of that headspace, pissed that he found himself there in the first place.

You bit on your bottom lip, slightly anxious, as you looked at Levi, who was meticulously working through his ice cream cone, looking much more tense than usual. He wasn’t wearing a swimsuit, so he just had on a white t-shirt with some shorts on. His arms up to his upper bicep was exposed and it took every ounce of self-control within you to not continue staring at him. As usual, his hair fell perfectly over his forehead and his signature irritated scowl seemed oddly alluring. You slightly shook your head upon realizing the types of thoughts that you were having.

You shot a side glance at him, watching as he picked away at his ice cream. Upon closer inspection, you could see that he had elected for a waffle bowl instead of an ice cream cone and that he was using a spoon to scoop out the ice cream instead of shoving it in his face like you were.

When he finally looked over at you again, he immediately passed you a napkin. He had grabbed a more than generous bundle from the shop that he was just at.

"You're dripping."

"Oh, shit," you muttered as you took the napkin and wrapped it around the cone, checking to make sure the sugary liquid didn't get onto the towel.

Your hand lingered on that spot on the towel for a bit, as if you were struggling to say something. Your finger gently rubbed the cloth back and forth for a while before your lips finally parted.

"Thank you for not being...weird after the other week," you mumbled.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in what almost sounded like a genuine tone as he finished his ice cream, but he knew what you were referring to—and you knew that he knew.

"...Nevermind," you said as you shook your head.

It seemed like neither of you really wanted to discuss what had happened—or rather, what had almost happened—on the Ferris Wheel.

You remembered the two of you chatting over your sudden grumpiness when you suddenly got the impulsive urge to kiss him. You had gotten so distracted that you could barely remember what it was that you were trying to say at the time: that Levi was the only really close and reliable connection that you had.

"...Just thank you for always being there to pick up the pieces, I guess," you mumbled. "I hope you're not too distressed about having to live with me for another year."

You looked up hesitantly at him. Your last statement was meant to be a joke, but there was a bit of actual anxiety present in your voice as well.

He glanced down at you.

"I think I'll find a way to cope with your annoying ass."

You shot him a half-hearted smile. You knew this banter was normal from him, but you couldn't help but doubt. You couldn't help but ponder on the fact that no one would reasonably want to live with you.

"Cut that out," Levi scolded with a groan.

You blinked at him.

"Cut what out?"

"You're pitying yourself again."

"What? No I'm not," you said defensively.

Levi shot you a skeptical look, not believing you in the slightest.

"You're not as much of a pain in the ass as you think you are."

You scoffed at the irony of his comment.

"You still think that after you had to scout out the entire town for me that one night?"

"Yes."

He responded extraordinarily quickly, and with clear conviction in his voice.

You clenched your jaw and looked down and away from him.

"Do you not believe me?"

He never took his gaze off you.

"_____," he called out after you remained quiet for a while.

You let out an unsteady breath.

"I want to," you whispered. "I just feel like I'm always dragging you down or bothering you for something and there are so many times in which I regret texting you at night because I know you're busy and I don't want to be a burden. And-"

"You never shut up, do you?" Levi scolded, cutting you off. "You're not a fucking burden. Quit doing that to yourself."

He slightly shoved at you in an attempt to pull you out of your head.

You pulled away and looked at him, feeling your cheeks slightly warm up upon seeing that he was shooting you a subtle smile. You gave him a half-hearted smile in return.

"Maybe you're not as much of a dick as I thought you were."

He frowned at your comment.

"You thought I was a dick?"

"Mhm," you said with a nod. "When we first talked, remember?"

"Purged that memory," he said with a deadpan expression, implying that his first meeting with you was so terrible that he had to repress his memory of it.

"Ha, yeah right."

You hated the fact that your cheeks were warming up in his presence again. You hated the fact that you couldn't pull away from him even if you wanted to.

And you absolutely hated the fact that you got this close to your aloof roommate that was insistent on being a dick to you right off the bat.

~~~~~

"You went out to get a sandwich?"

"Not touching that oil-soaked patty."

You looked over across the alley and saw that Nicolo was in the middle of teaching Sasha how to grill. He had brought his own patties that he had prepared earlier on in the day. Given the fact that everyone had been screwing around in the water all day, they were more than ready for burgers—except for Levi.

He was making a face of absolute disgust at the burgers. He was sure it tasted great—he knew of Nicolo's cooking abilities—but just the sight of the coat of grease over them made him scrunch up his nose in disgust.

Instead, he had walked over to a nearby restaurant to order a sandwich. You knew he had walked off to do that. What you didn't expect was that he was going to come back with one in hand for you too.

You didn't have a problem eating the burger, but the sandwich did admittedly look more appetizing than the burgers that everyone had begun digging through.

"So?"

Levi raised an eyebrow at you as you spoke.

"So?"

"You regret coming yet?"

He looked at you without responding, unsure why you were randomly bringing up the question.

"I saw you smacking your shoes earlier to get the sand out."

Levi's breathing paused for a moment. He didn't expect you to notice that. He had made sure that you were out of sight when he went behind his car to get the sand out, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of an "I told you so".

He grunted in response.

"Whatever. As long as it doesn't get in the car."

"Maybe I'll make you go swimming next," you mused.

"Don't you dare."

You chuckled at his reaction, taking a sip of your beer. You looked up towards both Nicolo and Sasha as you finished your sandwich and saw that Sasha had already picked up how to use the grill, despite having only been introduced to it around twenty minutes ago.

You knew all the way back in November that they were beginning to become a thing, so you weren't surprised when they arrived at the beach as an official couple. You watched them interact with each other and found your eyes flashing over towards Levi.

You mentally slapped yourself for doing so. The fact that you automatically looked at him when thinking about a "new couple" meant that those feelings that rose up at the amusement park were still there, and they didn't seem to be going away any time soon. Your housing situation would be made a hundred times more complicated if you ended up falling in love with your roommate. You continued trying to convince yourself that that wasn’t the case and that there was some other explanation for your feelings that didn’t involve a more intimate relationship with him.

It was Levi. He was supposed to piss you off and you were supposed to piss him off. Him being kind to you was a fluke. You just happened to have multiple flukes in a row. It couldn’t possibly mean anything.

You awkwardly shuffled around on the bench, trying to shake off the feeling. Levi immediately noticed that your body posture had changed.

"What?" he asked with a frown.

You looked at him with flushed cheeks. You weren't sure if it was from him or from the alcohol beginning to hit you. You'd prefer if it was just the alcohol.

"Nothing," you mumbled, shaking your head. "Just the alcohol settling in."

He blinked at you a few times with a raised eyebrow. He didn't believe you.

This had turned into a common theme between the two of you. Whether you were intending to or not, lying to him has become significantly more difficult as of late, and vice versa. The tension and mind games were killing you, but you weren’t willing to address anything, if you even knew what “anything” entailed of.

You grimaced as everyone began swarming the table now that the burgers were done and everyone had grabbed their food. The small table that you had been peacefully eating your sandwich at soon became chaotic and messy. Everyone chatting at once became incredibly noisy and it was wearing away at your nerves. You were soon no longer processing anything that was being said, your world simply turning into a haze that vaguely involved people running around and screaming something about summer break that you were too overwhelmed to fully tune in to.

Levi got up and placed a hand on your shoulder, sensing the tension.

"Come, talk a walk with me. It's-"

"-getting too rowdy?" you finished his sentence with a slight smirk. You shared the sentiment, however. It was much too noisy for either of you. Although Levi had pulled you out of your dissociative state, you felt it quickly returning.

He responded to your comment with an eye roll, but otherwise motioned for you to follow as he began to wander back towards the shoreline.

~~~~~

"Oh c'mon, at least dip a toe in!" you shouted back at Levi from the shoreline.

"Fuck no."

You were barely in the water, just close enough for the waves to wash over your feet, but remaining dry otherwise.

The beach was starting to cool off now that the sun began to go down. The sky had a relaxing pink hue to it that was speckled with white clouds drifting about. It had gotten chilly enough that you had a thin, translucent pullover on so that you weren't wearing just a bikini.

You tried to coax Levi to step into the water, but he adamantly refused. After seeing that he wasn't going to budge, you sighed and stepped out of the water, slightly bumping into him as you walked up next to him.

He slightly pushed back against you with an annoyed look. He had invited you on a walk to get away from everyone else, not expecting you to try to drag him into the ocean.

His frown lines softened as you looked up into his eyes and your cheeks heated up as he gave you "that" look again. It was the one you saw for the first time on that Ferris Wheel—a gentle, compassionate look that you rarely got to see from him.

You broke eye contact, feeling your entire body begin to heat up just from being around him. You mumbled something under your breath.

"What?"

You shook off your nerves and spoke up.

"Thanks...for always being there to pick me up."

He sighed in irritation.

"Quit thanking me for it."

You had thanked him for the exact same thing repeatedly over the past day and while he wasn't necessarily sick of it, he knew how excessive it was. He was acutely aware that it had to do with a sense of shame or guilt, but he hoped that you'd eventually be able to just accept that it's okay to need or ask for help.

"I'm sorry if it ever seems like I'm not grateful," you mumbled. "I really don't know what I would've done without you this past year so..."

Your hand grabbed at your other arm in anxiety.

"...so I guess you're not as bad of a roommate as I thought you would be."

You had to end your comment with a joke. At this point it seemed to serve as a protective factor against whatever it was that was brewing within you whenever you were around him. You were hesitant to test the waters with him. It was why you didn't text him when you were on the bus ride back from the amusement park.

You didn't want to screw up what you already had. You didn't want to mess up this delicate friendship that you had finally been able to forge.

When you finally gathered up the courage to look at him again, you saw that he never took his eyes off you the entire time.

He looked into your eyes for a bit before he spoke, as if he was also contemplating about the best way to word his thoughts.

"Did you mean it?"

"That you're not a shit roommate?"

He let out an annoyed tut.

"Not that, dumbass."

You tilted your head a bit at him, genuinely unsure of what he was referring to.

"At the amusement park," he said quietly, and you felt your body freeze upon him bringing it up. "On the Ferris Wheel. Did you mean it?"

He was referring to what you had been saying about being close to him. You remembered musing about the fact that you didn't really have anyone that you could call family, or anyone that you could rely on to be there in case shit hit the fan—except for Levi.

Levi was always there for you, even if it seemed like he didn't want to be. Levi would drop everything to make sure you were okay. You could confidently rely on him. Whether you had wanted to or not, you had formed somewhat of a close bond with him, to the point that every minute that you spent with him involved you being incredibly confused over what your relationship actually was.

You felt your cheeks continue to heat up and you turned to walk away, pausing as your hand brushed up against his.

Your hands lingered near each other for a bit as the both of you stopped moving. You even felt his fingers slightly grasp at yours, although you could easily convince yourself that this wasn't intentional, but it still sent chills throughout your body nonetheless.

"Uhm..y-yeah," you stammered, "I guess I did...Is that okay?"

Neither of you pulled your hands away. The desire to get closer to him was destroying you, but you held agonizingly still as you anxiously waited for his response.

"Sure."

You looked into each other's eyes and you felt that same tension, that same alluring feeling drawing you towards him, that same temptation to gently plant your lips against his. Your face only continued to heat up as you stood next to him, fingers crossed with his, the both of you unmoving, waiting to see what the other would do.

Levi cleared his throat before finally stepping back away from the shoreline.

"Should head back. It's getting dark."

It took you a minute to reorient yourself to reality.

"Yeah," you said quietly as you let out an unsteady exhale. "We should."

You lingered behind him a bit, letting him walk forward. You watched him from behind, appreciating the way that the breeze was blowing through his hair. Your eyes dropped down to the bottom of his t-shirt, where it slightly rose up so that you could ever so slightly see the bottom of his bare back. It wasn’t anything special, but just simply seeing his shirt rise made your body heat up in ways that you weren’t willing to admit to yourself. Besides, you still weren't sure how he felt. Part of you wanted to think that whatever was building up in you was reciprocated, but you were much too scared to act on it without explicit confirmation that he wanted it too.

Even if it was reciprocated, you weren't even sure if you wanted to officially go there. Things were too chaotic and you had never planned to fall in love with your roommate that you had hated so much a year ago.

You weren't sure—but you couldn't deny that a deep part of you left you longing for more.

they're so stupid skjdfksdf #: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @alexkibutsuji @moonchild-angel

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