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missmonsters2 · 10 months

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Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

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It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life.

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it.

This was all Steve's fault.

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar.

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway.

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess.

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together.

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for.

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself.

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well.

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts.

"What?"

"Bug—"

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though."

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about.

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did.

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly.

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you.

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Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it.

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her.

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them.

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type.

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to.

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little.

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career.

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her.

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason.

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head.

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning.

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat.

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her.

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her.

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!"

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Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying.

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone.

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs.

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for.

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it.

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup.

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear.

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders.

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain.

It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way.

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

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Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers.

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed.

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits.

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap.

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm.

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him.

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship.

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it.

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together.

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight.

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision.

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda.

And you look interested.

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you.

But that just makes everything so much more confusing.

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend.

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself.

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something.

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is.

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer.

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information.

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

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The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic.

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset.

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy.

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly.

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you.

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand.

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist.

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you.

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you.

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well.

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

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izurou · 2 years

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if katsuki has told you once, he’s told you a thousand times—don’t wait up for me.

you never did understand what all the fuss was about. sure, the fatigue would catch up to you after a few consecutive days of doing so—but it was never anything a little more sleep in the morning couldn’t solve.

still, after seeing how adamant he was about the whole thing, you dropped the habit altogether—or at least, he thought you did.

it’s almost midnight when katsuki arrives home, easing the front door shut with the utmost care. he doesn’t bat an eye upon noticing the dull amber glow emanating from the kitchen—you always leave the little light above the stove on for him. he does however, feel his heart skip a beat when he rounds the corner and sees a figure clad in black sitting at his kitchen island.

he easily recognizes the figure as you—seemingly lost in your own little world as you rest your chin in your palm and stare down at your phone. you click on a news article that catches your eye—one from just two hours ago. dynamight’s big rescue! on the evening of tuesday september 6th, three villains entered a bank around ni—

“the hell are you doin’?” his voice lingers from the doorway, much softer than usual—because he knows you’re unaware of his presence.

it startles you nonetheless, but it could have been much worse—he probably just saved you from a major heart attack. a true hero, even off duty.

“just some light reading,” you turn your head and give him a sheepish smile, simultaneously giving him a once over for any injuries. fortunately, you find none—not that you can see at least.

“meant what’re you doin’ up,” he replies, crossing his strong arms over his chest as he takes a few steps further into the kitchen.

“waiting for you,” you hum, hopping out of your chair and padding over to him. he watches, from the moment those words leave your mouth to the moment you wrap your arms around his neck—and then he turns his head. “kats, i missed you.”

he knew it was coming, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to hear. lately, with this increase in crime, you’ve been seeing him less and less. he hates it, but he knows you—and how quick you’d drop everything for a little more time together. he’s witnessed it, all those late nights and early mornings, they took a toll on you—and you don’t deserve that. so, he put an end to it, made sure you knew how important your health was, and had you sleeping like a baby by ten o’clock most nights. but, here you are.

“go,” he nods towards the stairs and rests a hand on your lower back, ushering you ever so gently. “‘ll be there in fifteen.”

he’ll inhale his dinner, wash up at the speed of light, and slide into bed next to you—just like the old days, right?

“i haven’t eaten yet,” you mumble.

you feel his hand stiffen up, and he’s no longer steering you towards your bedroom. he peers down, scarlet eyes boring into you from right beneath his furrowed brow—because he knows that you know, he’d never let you go to bed on an empty stomach. touché.

“pain in my ass,” he mutters, dropping his hand and letting you shuffle towards the fridge where you’re harbouring two plates of leftovers. he trails his gaze down to your feet, and you swear you hear a little snort slip out of him.

as if drowning yourself in his hoodie and sweats wasn’t enough, you have his slippers on—and they’re a size, or seven too big for your feet. you don’t have enough fingers to count all the times he’s called you ronald, or said that he didn’t know the fuckin’ circus was back in town. he can make all the clown jokes he wants, you’ll never give up that warmth and comfort—him getting a kick out of the whole thing is a side effect you can handle.

“how was patrol?” you ask, sliding one of the plates into the microwave. you more or less know how it went, but you’ll keep that to yourself.

he mumbles a same old shit before giving you a vague rundown of the bank robbery—well, the attempted bank robbery. he’s cut off by the loud beeps that echo throughout the room. you reach for the button that opens the little door, but he beats you to it, nudging you away with his hip. he removes the plate—and it’s blatantly obvious that it’s his—the portion size being a dead giveaway. still, he holds it out for you to take. “eat.”

the look on your face must’ve said it all, because he’s quick to follow up. “‘ll finish what you don’t, baby. sit, eat.”

his gaze lingers on you for just a tad longer than usual before he turns around and heads for the second plate. there’s probably half the amount of food on this one, but he doesn’t seem to mind. so you sit, and eat. he’s not far behind, plopping down next to you just a couple minutes later.

“katsuki?” you side eye him, thinking about how cute he looks with his cheeks all full. it’s been a little while since you’ve sat down and had a meal with him—this is perfect, just what you wanted. still, you can’t help but look ahead as you yearn for a little more. “will you wake me up before you leave tomorrow morning?”

“mmm,” he holds his hand in front of his mouth, rapidly chewing the remainder of his bite so he can answer you. “whatever, but if you swing at me once ‘m leavin’ you there.”

as much as katsuki would love to have a testy six am encounter with the little overtired monster that is you—he won’t, because he’s going to let you sleep until your sweet heart’s content.

you won’t be happy, he knows that—hell, maybe you’ll even swing at him tomorrow evening while fully awake. nah, who’s he kidding? you’d never consciously do that. he almost smiles at the thought though, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent it.

right, you won’t be happy, but you’ll get over it. it’s his job to get up early, come home late, and deal with all the bullshit in between.

because, in all aspects of life—from sleep, right down to the level of warmth and comfort you feel on your feet—katsuki believes you deserve just a little more than him.

#izurou #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #mha x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou hcs #bakugo hcs #bakugo headcanons #bnha hcs #tw food

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nburkhardt · 3 months

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Clingy Honeyboy

Quick information I don’t want to fully explain: it’s an au of season 4. Steve and Eddie got together while Steve was working at Scoops. The UD isn’t around anymore either.

cw: omegaverse, mpreg (omega Steve & alpha Eddie)

Onto the fic ✨

There’s something up with Steve.

Eddie loves him, like, wants to mate with him kind of love. Is sorta obsessed with him actually. Already half way living together and has family weekly meals with Wayne kinda love. Clings to each other, spends as much time as possible together type of love. Ya know?

And that’s how he knows there’s something up because Steve’s been extra, extra clingy.

So clingy that his best friends officially found out about their relationship, because Steve was glued to his back during band practice one day. (He had to answer many questions that day- with a purring very content Steve leaned against him not even bothering to help, the jerk!)

Look, he’s not complaining. Eddie loves his clingy omega very much, thank you. He’s worried, this is a new level of clingy for his sweet baby.

It’s just…leaning into a concerning amount of clinginess. To the point that he’s skipped days of school and spent it in their nest or in the backroom of Family Video. Steve heavily scents him on the days they do manage to be apart. He’s almost out of clothes because they keep getting stolen!

“Alright, okay. Stevie, Sunshine, Light of my life. What is going on?” Eddie sits up in their nest, watching as Steve stops his hands from continuing fixing the edge of the nest, “Honey?”

Steve shifts to sit back down, confusion all over his beautiful face. “What do you mean, Eds?”

“You’ve been extra clingy, stealing a lot of my shirts. You’re fixing the nest for the tenth time this week and it’s only Tuesday. I’m starting to get concerned, are you feeling okay?”

Eddie reaches over and grabs his hands, squeezing lightly before tugging him closer. Steve goes along and rests his forehead against his shoulder, “I just, I have this need to be with you and- and the nest feels wrong, okay?”

“Wrong? But it’s our nest, has been for a while now?”

Steve lets out a huff, “I know! But it’s, there’s- maybe. It needs more, I don’t know.” there’s tears coming up and Eddie is quick to pull him into a hug, “Doctors appointment?”

“Doctors appointment.”

The day he found the courage to just talk to Eddie, Steve was a little sleep deprived. (Give him a break, it was just after the whole- mall fire, okay?!) It felt out of body, but so amazing, because the alpha said yes to a date.

Right now, right here, he feels that same- giddiness. Feels on cloud nine, his heart is beating so fast and his scent is blooming his joy.

“Congratulations, is the right word, then?” The doctor smiles at them, then while the doctor talks a bit more, Steve blanks it out.

In a few blinks, he’s settled on their couch at home and Eddie is strumming his acoustic guitar. Their combined joyful scents are filling his nose and making him feel warm and happy. They stay like that until Wayne gets home, telling him the news immediately.

Because one, they live together and two, it’s Wayne. Of course he gets to know immediately.

Steve is so happy the days following that everyone gets to smell his cinnamon and the new subtle vanilla scent from his pregnancy. His joy is contagious, everyone they run into ends up feeling just as happy as Steve.

It was only a matter of time for Steve’s found family pack to notice and question the sudden mood change.

(It took Robin a day of working together to piece it together, she knew of their relationship of course, she’s Robin. She freaked, rambled and cried happy tears for him. The front room of Family Video was full of cinnamon and apples from their combined scents.)

Eddie’s busy reworking notes and rereading all his papers, leaning over the table and ignoring the others around him. He’s too wrapped in it that he doesn’t hear or see the door open, until a very familiar scent pops up next to him that immediately gets his attention.

Standing there with a pout already on his face, his arms crossed in the jacket Eddie was wearing last night, is his Stevie. His scent doesn’t give off actual distress or discomfort, so Eddie isn’t panicking yet. Instead he flips his papers over and turns completely to face his Sweetheart.

Around them Eddie can hear how silent it gets as Steve climbs into his lap and immediately scenting him. Eddie’s arms automatically wrap around him and breathes in his favorite scent.

As he opens his eyes, there’s the newest sheep, Steve’s adopted pups, looking at them with wide eyes and mouths wide open. Dustin front and center, an arm up pointing at them looking like a cartoon character.

It’s as Steve’s pur starts up and he fully sinking into Eddie getting comfortable, that the room explodes with questions. At least from the pups- his best friends already know how clingy Steve’s been for weeks now.

“What the hell is this?”

Eddie shifts against the chair and looks over at them, “Honeyboy is clingy.”

It absolutely does not answer the question and if anything, it looks to have annoyed Wheeler- and confuses Henderson even more.

“Honeyboy? How do you two even know each other?! Is he asleep right now?” Dustin’s eyes can’t get any bigger as Eddie watches the wheels turn in his head.

“yes, Honeyboy. Or Sunshine, Baby, Sweetheart, Babydoll, annnnd Stevie.” Eddie smiles as he lists each name, knowing he has even more. “We live in a small town, of course I know him. And yes, he is asleep right now so why don’t you be quiet and not wake my Honey?”

Henderson looks about ready to explode and it would be funny to keep him and the others from getting any more information, but luckily, Eddie’s willing to ignore the little devil on his shoulder today.

“Stevie and I are together, he’s extra clingy right now. Ya happy?”

The boys all look at each other with wide eyes before deciding to whisper to each other and Dustin turns back around and as he starts to speak, Steve shifts against him and Eddie can feel his smile as he moves.

“Teddy forgot one important detail, I’m also pregnant.”

I think if I continue writing, it’d just be more of Steve being clingy and a little shit towards Dustin. So we’re ending it there :)

I was at work the other day and all I could think about was a clingy Steve and how funny if that’s how people find out about their relationship haha. Then i decided I needed this to be just a straight up season 4 au, where the upside down doesn’t effect them anymore bc I didn’t want the hurt/comfort, I just wanted happy and sappy.

@puppy-steve (I saw that comment on the WIP I posted a few days ago ❤️)

Permanent Taglist: please let me know if you don’t want to be included when I post with mpreg.

@mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690

#steddie #omegaverse #mpreg #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #stranger things #steddie omegaverse #nburkhardt works #I need everyone to know that Dustin absolutely freaks out about his two favorite guys being together #and that eventually they have a little boy who’s just as clingy as Steve :)#cw mpreg #tw mpreg #cw omegaverse

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months

Text

In Between the Bookshelves📚

AU Librarian!Miguel O'Hara x Fem grad student reader

(image isn't mine, found it on Instagram under the account @/ brokenohara and asked for their permission to post it)

Synopsis: a normal trip to the library results in a little bit more than you were expecting when you meet the new librarian on duty. Word count 4.6k

A/N: reposting this new and hopefully improved version of one of my very first Miguel fics I deleted a while back. I tried to make him more awkward and cute🖤🤓. Still not totally confident in the smut but oh well. Writing smut is so hard sometimes? Or maybe my skills have gone down, idk 😫 Hope you enjoy...

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT TOWARDS THE END: FINGERING, ORAL SEX F receiving, Gag(he uses his shirt to muffle your moans) Public sexual activity, talk of anxiety, mention of family troubles and anti-deity/religion language

It's 7:00 pm on a rainy Tuesday night in the middle of October. You just got out of your evening Database Systems class. You can't help but feel poetic as you stroll down the grey, soaked, Manhattan streets twirling your umbrella, hot coffee in a cardboard cup in hand. Your shoulders begin to ache from the thin faux leather straps of your backpack. You're wearing your favorite brown sweater over a short sleeved black dress that hits you mid-thigh, with some holey black tights and your favorite knock-off Doc Martens. Damn, I still need to write that 2 page paper that's due tomorrow..

You decide at the last minute to spend your night at the library. You know you won't get anything done if you go back to your apartment. You spin on your heel and pick up the pace as you head hastily towards the NYIT library in Manhattan.

The library is pretty dead except for a group of three people sitting together in the middle table talking in hushed voices, one woman sitting on the floor scrolling with a laptop, and one jock looking fellow sitting at the computers, cracking his knuckles and bouncing his knee anxiously as he scans his assignment he's typing.

You sit down at the empty table right next to the librarian's desk. Since you're a regular here you recognize Polly, the librarian on duty who is a plump woman who looks to be in her 30s with short curly brown hair, wearing a mustard yellow cardigan and brown corduroy pants tonight. She's stapling papers together and gives you a small nod in acknowledgement as you sit down at the table in front of her desk.

She whispers to you, "I'm actually heading out for the evening, but the new person on duty should be here any minute now if you need any assistance."

You nod, and, speak of the devil, here he comes. You suddenly feel your chest get hot when you lay your eyes on the new librarian.

Tall, dark, and handsome would be the simplest way to define this man's appearance, but that would be a very feeble attempt at doing him justice. Sculpted bicep muscles push against the sleeves of his flannel with the cuffs rolled up halfway on his thick forearms. The flannel is unbuttoned and flaps gently away from his body as he walks, a white t-shirt underneath. He has broad, wide, shoulders and a narrow waist. He's also wearing dark wash athletic jeans and a pair of canvas slip ons. His hair has one stubborn strand in front from his small widow's peak that falls endearingly in the middle of his forehead. His most disarming quality is his eyes. A shade of brown that's earthy and natural like the sediment that decorates stream beds. He wears a stoic expression under large framed glasses.

He nods and mutters a "thank you" to the woman librarian as she shimmies into her coat and leaves. His eyes notice you and latch onto you momentarily. You feel your cheeks grow warm and you turn back to your laptop, unable to resume where you left off, wanting to start a conversation with him but not sure how. After a few painful moments of silence, and a quiet rumble outside from the ongoing rainstorm, you decide to break the ice by telling him your name. He blinks as you tell it to him, and you continue trying to make small talk to try and prod more out of him.

"Have I seen you here before? I come here a lot and I don't think I've met you yet."

"Miguel O'Hara," he answers shortly, but politely. "I'm a grad student. I started working for the university in exchange for assistance with my tuition."

You nod, feeling the heat leave your cheeks a little bit as you realize you could have a normal conversation with this man, and not just be an awkward mess around him the entire time. When he mentions he's a student, you realize you have something in common with him and try to go from there.

"These mid-terms are going to be the death of me. I have just one more paper to turn in then I can finally breathe, thank God..."

Miguel blows a short puff of air out of his nose seemingly in agreement, but doesn't say anything else.

He's quiet. Truth is you are too, and you're stepping way more out of your comfort zone than you normally would. Amazing what a pair of charming brown eyes could do to you.

"Honestly, if I had to work anywhere on campus I'd pick the library too. Seems peaceful with minimal people around, and everyone's required to be quiet by default. The ultimate dream workplace."

Miguel can't figure out why this stranger keeps talking to him, but you brought up a point he feels he needs to clarify.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Most people that come in here are loud and inconsiderate as hell. And there's always that one person who hasn't heard of shocking headphones. Always."

The corner of your mouth raises. "God, that would drive me insane. Being a librarian isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

Miguel shakes his head. "No. More like a glorified adult babysitter who knows where the historical fiction section and restrooms are located, and that's about it. That's literally the only two questions I get asked all day." He turns to look at you more fully, this conversation a slight breath of fresh air, the first chance he's gotten in a while to air out his grievances as the night librarian.

He continues, complaining about the horny couples he's had the misfortune of overhearing get busy on the beanbags in the far corner, and the people who leave random drinks and empty chips bags on the shelves and seem to have forgotten what alphabetical order means when they put books back.

You listen to all of it, nodding your head, and let out a cackle at his expressions he's making with those defined, bushy brows of his. He talks with his hands and it's a little endearing to watch him be so animated. This expressive side you've managed to crack through beneath his solemn exterior.

Miguel feels warmth rise in his body at the sound of your laugh for the first time. It's genuine and hearty, and honestly it's funnier than whatever bad quip he just made and he can't help but feel a little more attracted to you after hearing it. You were a good listener, and he appreciated that a lot about you.

You glance at the windows across the room, nodding in its direction with a remark about the weather, how rainstorms are your favorite. He tells you he loves them as well.

Soon, the others have shifted out of the library and he's now sitting in the chair across from you leaning his chin in his hand, listening to you speak as the rain gently pelts the windows outside.

He finds out you're originally from a smaller town, and you came to New York City for college and to escape your overbearing parents. You're 26 years old and trying to finish this Master's degree after taking one too many semesters off. You tell him about your mom who's a bit of a pushover, and your dad who's kind of an asshole.

He tells you he's 29 and has a younger brother who lives on the other side of the city, and his mom is similar to yours. She's kind but tends to set herself on fire to keep her kids warm. Like you, his dad is also a bit of an ass.

You're both introverted, but you can fake it when you need to, which he appreciates, otherwise he never would have been brave enough to say something to you this evening.

You two share a love of education and coffee. You discuss religion.

"I just don't get it, I'm supposed to love this guy and accept Him into my heart because He died for my sins even though I didn't ask Him to do that? But yet if I break any of His rules I get sent to the Inferno for all of eternity?"

"Sounds like a toxic relationship." Miguel quips as he spins your nearly empty coffee cup across the table absentmindedly.

"Exactly!"

You two talk about love as he shuffled some stray books back to their rightful place.

"C'mon, I know you've had to have dated at least once."

Miguel shakes his head. "Well, I did date a girl in high school. Knew her since the 7th grade. But she pretty much ripped my heart out when I saw her making out with one of my buddies on graduation night. I've had a couple dates here and there since then but that's it."

You click your pen. "Damn, so we both have exes from hell that we dated in high school?"

Miguel nods his head. "It would appear we do. I'm sorry you know the pain and annoyance of adolescent heartbreak too."

You shrug your shoulders. "It happens, y'know? It's like one of those things in life you're just meant to experience. It's like, unavoidable you know? And there's nothing you can do about it. What would you call that? Like not a trope per se, but almost like.... destiny?"

Miguel shrugs in return, "Like a canon event?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Yeah... exactly. How'd you come up with that?"

The ghost of a smirk appears on his face, "Just made sense to me, I guess."

You two sit at the table again and he asks about your childhood and you explain that you suffered from anxiety as long as you can remember and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes.

You do your best to try and ignore what feels like his knee pressing against your calf under the table. The thought of touching him sends heat waves through your body, but you remain frozen in place to send the message you're not opposed to more contact. Miguel feels it too, and deep down his leg is falling asleep with the way it's positioned but he's too nervous to move, either.

You both love the nighttime over mornings, and you show him one of your favorite playlists. He smiles at you tenderly as he holds one of the earphones to his ear.

Soon, it's 10:30 pm and he needs to do his closing duties. Luckily, there weren't any patrons who needed his assistance during his whole shift, proving his point earlier. Before he excuses himself, you two sit in silence for the longest time, both trying to gauge if now's the time to say goodbye to one another, but neither of you wanting to actually be the one who does.

Not sure if it was the absence of any light outside, the late hour, the good conversation you two shared, or a combination of all three, but the ripple of attraction you harbored for him has now washed over you completely and morphed into a formidable wave, threatening to take over your whole body, the darkness of this library and persistence of the ongoing storm outside pushing you closer to him.

He's staring at the corner of your laptop, similar feelings ebbing through him, not sure what's got into him. The art of flirting turned itself into uncharted territory for him a longggg time ago.

He finally decided to look at you but you're already looking at him and he snaps his gaze back down onto the bare table below him, silently cursing in his head as a shade of red fluster rises in his cheeks.

You realize you're going to have to be the one to be brave this time again. "Well, this has been fun...."

Miguel scoffs, starting to bounce his leg under the table. "You say that in the most sarcastic tone known to man."

You return with a scoff of your own, adding a smile, "Well I mean, technically you were working this whole time, isn't that boring?"

Miguel shrugs, the heat in his face returning. "You made it more fun..." The volume in his voice decreasing to a murmur.

You look down as well, your heart fluttering in your chest. You really wanted to kiss him. Or just be closer to him, you don't know why. Of course he was cute as hell but after talking to him for hours, there was no denying a spark had formed. You just didn't know whether one or both of you would make the first move to actually do something about it.

Miguel can't believe that he's actually going to try and attempt to ask you to stay longer with him, but he's going to. Just to hang out some more, maybe keep up that amazing conversation you two were sharing just before this. Completely innocent.

Well, if the way the glow from the desk lamp keeps on making your face look so warm and alluring, he's not sure he'll have the strength to shut down any escapades that ensue later, as long as you're completely up for it, of course.

He inhales "Um...so not sure if you have things to do later or..."

You look at him, pupils widening with anticipation at his pending question.

He goes to say, "I was wondering if you wanted to keep hanging out," but it gets combined with the phrase, "Do you want to stay here a little longer," and the word jumbo that exits his mouth is a little incoherent.

"Was wondering if you were wondering to stay and keep hanging longer out?"

You blink rapidly at his blunder, and he groans, placing his face in his hands.

You immediately feel bad for him, shaking your head and sliding a hesitant hand towards his arm. You stumble over your words too sometimes and it's always fucking humiliating when it happens, so you feel no judgement towards him whatsoever. If anything now he's even more attractive. Every little cute thing about him is just pushing you towards him closer than ever before.

Your fingertips skim across the top of the table and press gently into his forearm. He slowly rolls his head to look at you, his cheek resting in his arms as his eyes look at you from behind his glasses which are slightly askew from the way his face is positioned.

His face is still red, but his heart flutters at your sweet smile. "Sorry, my brain just...takes a dump on me when I try to be smooth sometimes..." Miguel mumbles with a weak chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

You shake your head. "I do the same thing...but to answer your question....yes please..." Your voice becomes quieter at the word "please", an trickle of lust you added on purpose, hoping he's picking up on the vibe you're putting down with the way you're gazing into his eyes, your fingers pressed against his arm, the subtle scoot closer you just made with your chair.

Miguel releases a shaky breath, oh, he's paying attention alright. Damn it all if he doesn't take the leap right now. He decides to ask one more time to be sure, slowing down so he gets it right this time.

"Will....you stay longer, with me?" his voice is low, almost a whisper even though it's only the two of you in his dark library, but it's dripping with seduction. A low rumble from the rain clouds interrupts the pause between his question and your answer.

"Yeah..." you say softly back with double affirmation, a sneaky smile forming on your lips. He flashes a dazzling smile back at you, a woozy feeling in his stomach for what's about to happen in the next few minutes.

He excuses himself and goes back to his desk, typing on his computer, the excitement of having you alone making him just type nonsense for the first few moments, wheeling away some carts to the back and stowing a stray book back where it belongs.

It's now 11 pm. Closing time. Miguel turns off all the lights except for his small desk lamp. The clouds are still rolling and rumbling outside with the wind whistling against the windows. Raindrops are still decorating the street. It's a beautifully dark, sensual scene just for the two of you.

He laces his fingers in between yours and leads you to a dark space in between two large bookshelves. His hand is clammy, and he's a little embarrassed about it on the inside but you squeeze it reassuringly. There was literally nothing he could do at this point to make your crush on him go away. The shelves tower over both of you, even Miguel, who's 6 foot 9.

He leans a hand against the shelf just above and to the right of your head. He accidentally pins a piece of your hair under his hand, making you wince a tiny bit.

"Augh.."

Miguel's eyes dart in alarm to search for what he did that caused you pain and he realizes your hair is trapped under his hand. He pulls it away, shaking his hand and flicking his fingers in an effort to free any of your strands from it. "Goddamit...."

He rolls his head backwards in exasperation at his epic failure of having zero game tonight. You hold onto the flaps of his flannel, making him look at you. "Hey, hey come on...it's okay...."

He finally looks down at you and his lips fall open at your beauty, his heart rate speeding up much more quickly now, and he brings a shaky hand to your face. In his mind, he can't help but realize he's being a huge hypocrite, committing the same sins as his horny patrons of getting busy in the library. But seriously though, at least he had the decency to make sure it was after closing when he was off the clock.

You feel your knees go weak as he brings his other hand to your face, pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. He wets his lips and he leans in pressing his tongue gently in the space he opened in your bottom lip, begging to be let in. You oblige immediately, diving forward into his soft lips, goosebumps appearing on your arms.

Oh fuck....this kiss felt good. He forgot how nice it felt to share intimacy with someone, those feelings that laid dormant for so long rising and nearly bubbling past the surface. It's all coming back to him as he just wills himself to get lost in the warmth of your mouth, the sheer layer of your Chapstick leaving a tasty feeling on his tongue.

You considered yourself decently experienced, but the way his lips move on their own show you he's a force to be reckoned with and you'd be more than happy to sit back and let him handle things...this handsome, geeky, sweet librarian...

The noises you two make as you desperately kiss each other are little shuffles as you bump into the shelf behind you, with an occasional "oh fuck...," from Miguel. Hearing how turned on he's getting causes you to let your first moan escape your lips.

Once he hears it, he needs more. His hands make their way to your ass and hoist you up onto an empty bookshelf ladder and he sets you down on one of the rungs. You grab his shirt in your fists, not tearing your lips away from his.

"Do you care about these?" Miguel says softly, out of breath, his mind running a million miles a minute before his actions can catch up to him, gently pinching the thin material of your tights between his thumb and pointer finger as his palms grip the soft flesh of your outer thighs. You shake your head no, wanting to fuck already.

Then, his hand is in your crotch, ripping a whole right in the middle, tearing away at the fabric concealing your ripe pussy away from him as though it's the cover of a brand new novel. His cold pointer finger hooks behind your panties and pulls it to the side. You gasp loudly as you feel his finger and the cold air hit your soaked heat.

He chuckles, his breaths still coming out in rapid, succession, the baritone hum of his voice only adding to the wetness between your legs.

"Sorry, my hands are cold..." Then you can't believe what's happening when he drops to his knees, spreading you open like a book. His elbows pin your knees against the sides of the ladder, the wood pressing painfully into your kneecaps, but the sensation he gives you next makes you forget about the whole thing.

His tongue glosses over your wet pussy like a finger stroking the edge of a page. His nose tickles the tiny hairs sprouting from it as he takes a deep breath in, the smell of you going straight to his cock. He teases the lips of your pussy for a moment, an agonizing back and forth along the slit...

....back....and..... forth

"God....you're so wet..."

Back.....

"Miguel..." you whimper..

and forth...

"Fuck...." your fingers shake as you ball them into a fist...

before his tongue dips into your wet hole. Your back arches on instinct, making your body lurch forward, accidentally pushing his tongue further into you which he welcomes eagerly by gripping low on your ass to hold you in place.

You shudder and twitch violently, throwing your head back at the insanely divine attention he's injecting between your thighs. Miguel pauses for a moment, tenderly licking the inside of your thigh before sealing it with a kiss as his eyes flicker up to you.

"You okay?...." he whispers.

You release a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, a slightly empty feeling as the mind numbing pleasure was abruptly switched off.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm okay."

Miguel reassumes his position, tongue fucking you. The soft pad of his tongue fondling the plush walls inside you. He lets out a low groan and he feels you turn to putty in his grasp, his head gently bobbing as his tongue completes lap after lap eating you, enjoying you, savoring you....every drop from that pretty pussy soon seeping out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Your moans grow louder than they ever have, plucking him from his pussy-drunk state. He stands up in a panic and rips off his flannel, bunching it up as his eyes do a quick scan to make sure you're both still all alone.

"Shhhh.....baby, we need to be quiet.....bite this for me."

His angelic face comes up to look at you, his forehead pressing tenderly against yours and your eyes go half lidded at the sight of your arousal glistening down his chin, shiny on his thick neck from the thin flickers of moonlight that have managed to leak through the darkened windows of the library.

You do as you're told, biting his flannel and he stuffed it hastily in your mouth, making a makeshift gag as your eyes water. His elbows assume their position pinning your thighs back and he's back between them again.

You understand why he made you a gag as he goes directly for your clit this time. You yelp, your sound muffled by the fabric. Your nails dig into his shoulders, two perfect handles while you ride his face. The material of his shirt is thin and you feel every muscle ripple under your palms as he moves to keep fucking you with his mouth.

Your clit throbs to near overstimulation but Miguel doesn't relent. He swirls his tongue with low sighs of appreciation, unable to tear himself away from the wet heaven in front of his face.

His saliva and your slick mix together until it's all the same. The love you're dripping onto him and the love he's licking into you becoming a lewd stream of passion. He groans into your pussy as his bulging cock begs to relieve itself of all the cum built up with tormenting ache.

He decides he wants to watch you cum. He gets up, replacing his tongue with his thumb and his first two fingers, pumping into you with a circular rhythm and easing your clit at a torturous pace.

"On me, baby...." he whispers.

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you look at him, a little unsure of what he said. "Mmmm?...." You ask with a high pitched sigh.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me..." he repeats, his own eyes going half-lidded from the lure of your mouth hanging open. "Fuck...."

He abandons his plan momentarily as he rips his flannel from your mouth to kiss you again. You invade his mouth with your tongue and he mumbles your name again in response. You start to taste yourself and then whimper when you realize the pleasure is beginning to become too much.

"Miguel," you pant. "Baby, it's so much...." your breaths begin to hyperventilate.

Miguel gives a low sigh when you say his name, his cock straining once more when he realized he drew you to say it. He tilts his head at you, his jaw open and curls into a smile when he sees how crazy he's driving you.

"Cum f'me, baby. Wanna watch you while you do..."

You try to look at a spot on the ceiling but Miguel interrupts your concentration when he moves his head to keep himself in your vision. The spiciness of this sexy encounter banishing all fears he had before. No, he won't let you look at anything else when you cum.

He gives a loud grunt and clasps a hand over your mouth, fingers turning white, muffling your cry of sweet release as you squirt all over his flannel, your passion causing a few books to collapse from the shelf.

You shake and start to shiver all over as the sweat you produced during all the action starts to cool. Your hands are tingly and numb. Miguel gives a soft chuckle and presses a soft kiss into your temple with his wet lips and another one on your mouth before he returns his tongue to your thighs, collecting any remaining arousal left behind.

You rest your head back on the ladder rung behind your head, reeling in your come down. He smiles and plants a kiss into your thigh before bidding it farewell, then comes up and hugs you, nestling you in his tantalizing embrace, as he rests his cheek in your hair.

"Thank you..." you murmur, only barely sobering up from your high, his musk and cologne delivering you to a whole new state of intoxication.

He smiles down at you in response and holds your face in both hands, running his thumbs along your cheeks.

"See me tomorrow?"

You practically melt at those big brown eyes of his, glasses still slightly askew and the neck of his wrinkled shirt dampened with his sweat, silently hoping you will.

You beam up at him and nod enthusiastically and he chuckles and plants a line of kisses on your neck as you giggle underneath him. After a few soft hugs and another round of delicate kisses, he walks you to the door. Making you promise you'll call him as soon as you get home as a reluctant compromise at his uneasiness of you walking alone in the dark.

He watches you walk away into the night and doesn't stop until he sees you safely board the bus. He turns around and goes back inside the library, shutting off his desk light with a small click.

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #spotify #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #Spotify

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honeyhotteoks · 5 months

Text

this night together - chapter fourteen (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter fourteen: what we mean to each other

chapter summary: making amends is hard, moving on is hard, but you have a home now in a way you've never had before. together, you move forward through it all.

warnings/notes: this chapter still deals with the aftermath of the attack, so all previous warnings apply, but i think you'll see we're coming out of it now and into much happier times. this is the start of an absolute fluff fest, and we'll be back to smut in the next chapter. specific warnings for: discussions of physical attack, anxiety, ptsd, consent conversations, past s*xual assault (mentioned in passing), issues with police and the legal system because lbr the cops aren't doing anything good for assault victims, and reader has a triggering moment with her neck but she works through it just fine

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 14.3k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

It’s been days. Days of staying safe behind the walls of their apartment, days of dodging calls from your friends, days of cocooned self preservation. They haven’t left you for a single minute. You spent the weekend trading off who’s lap you were cuddled on and bickering over episodes of Single’s Inferno and you’ve never needed anything more.

Slowly though, things start to shift.

You’re showered, for one. And Yunho and Mingi both have settled back into their routines as best they can without leaving the apartment. Video games, mindless scrolling, paging through books and cooking balanced meals instead of another day of takeout.

On Monday, Seonghwa confirms your worst suspicions by texting you a photo of the formal letter he received via Minseok’s attorney. You expect Yunho and Mingi’s are in the mail. Every time your phone chimes you expect it to be the police or some other official legal summons. Your mind has started to turn over every detail of the event with calculated detail, and your internet history stretches long with research.

By Tuesday, you’ve caved and finally started answering Wooyoung’s texts with more than just single word responses or emoji confirmations that you’re still alive. The moment you do, he takes the opening and runs with it just like you knew he would.

As you wait for the hot water for your tea to boil in the kettle, you re-read his most recent text again.

Do you want to get out of the house for a bit? We can try that new spot by the bookstore?

Your stomach feels tight at the idea of going out and you do your best to tap out a reply that you think sounds casual and relaxed - Maybe next time, let’s just catch up and relax here?

You watch the message send and deliver and in nearly real-time it flicks over to read. Dots appear as he types.

Sure - his message reads - I’ll be there in an hour

An hour. You shouldn’t be so nervous to see your best friend, but the idea of opening up your little sanctuary to anyone right now feels a little fraught. The kettle whistles, and you hear feet shuffling against the vinyl flooring as Yunho crosses over into the kitchen and you lock your phone and Wooyoung’s messages away so you can focus.

“Hey,” You murmur, giving him a smile as you pull the kettle off the heat.

“Hey,” Yunho smiles back, leaning against the opposite counter, “everything okay?”

“Mhm,” You tell him, just a little white lie.

“Is Woo still coming by?” He questions.

“Yeah,” You nod, setting the kettle on a pad so it doesn’t damage the countertop, “he said around an hour,”

Yunho nods and then slides a bit closer to you, his hand stroking up and down your back once until he settles it on your hip. “Hey,” he says again, “can we talk?”

A nervous pang strikes in your gut, but he doesn’t look upset, so you take a guess at what he wants, “Is it okay that he’s coming?”

“Wooyoung?” His brows draw together, “Of course, that’s not what I meant,”

“Oh,” You turn towards him more fully, leaning against the counter with him, “okay, what’s up?”

“I want to apologize,” He says, swallowing tightly.

“Apologize,” You blink.

He nods.

“Okay,” You can see how whatever he’s about to say is bothering him, the stress under the surface, but you have no idea what he’s sorry for.

“Listen,” He reaches and takes your hand, pulling you a little closer to him, “I know you know I’m sorry, but I haven’t said it clearly and you deserve that,”

“Oh,” You relax further into his space until you can feel your bodies brushing together, the warmth radiating off his skin.

“The way I reacted at the studio after your last heat was wrong,” He says in a rush of air as he laces your hands together, “and I haven’t gotten the chance to really say that,”

“It’s okay,” You shake your head, soothing him a little, “you don’t have to,”

“No,” He insists with a squeeze of your fingers, “I do. That day, I was worried and jealous and confused, but I let my anger get the better of me and that’s not something I normally do.”

You squeeze his fingers back, letting him know you’re listening.

His eyes flick up from your joined hands to your eyes as he continues, “It’s not something I should have ever put on you or something you should ever see,”

“People get angry,” You start to say.

He’s firm when he shakes his head, “People get angry, but I don’t get angry at you. Ever.”

“Yunho,”

“I yelled at you,” He squeezes your hands, “I cursed at you,”

“I did the same thing right back,” You remind him.

“It’s not the same,” He presses, brushing right past your words, “and I’m apologizing because I’m telling you, y/n, it will never happen again.”

“You think we’ll never have a fight?” You smile, “That’s optimistic,”

“This isn’t a joke,” He sighs, “please,”

“I’m sorry,” You tuck closer to him, unlacing your hands so you can snake your arms around his middle, “and I appreciate you apologizing for that fight, but I was upset you were being possessive and emotional after all the cold shoulder, you yelling wasn’t really high on my list of concerns,”

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he nods, “I’ll get to that in a second, but will you hear me on this one thing?”

“I’m listening,”

“I hate to bring it up again,” He grimaces a little, “but I’ve just spent four days watching you jump at every noise around the apartment and wake up every night fucking terrified,”

Your eyes shoot down.

“And before I apologize for all the other ways I’ve been an ass to you,” His warm hands settle on your skin, thumb brushing along your jaw, “of which I know there are many,”

You smile at that.

“Yelling at you like that,” He sighs, “talking to you like that has been bothering me for months. I need to apologize for it because I need you to know that you’ll never, ever hear it again. Mingi said his peace, but it’s important to me that you know you’re safe with me in every way. If we’re going to do this, I need you to know you can tell me anything, including telling me off when I make mistakes, and I won’t get angry like that again.”

“I already know that,” You look up, meeting his firm gaze and reaching for his cheek, “and I hope you understand that I know the difference between how you were angry then and what he did and how he spoke to me.”

“I just had to say it,” He nods, “I would hate it if anything I ever did made you afraid to be honest with me, or made you feel like you’ve been feeling the past few days, I’d never,”

“Baby,” You cup his cheeks in both hands, holding his eyes so he hears you fully, “I forgive you, and I am not afraid or uncomfortable with you or with Mingi. Not at all.”

“Good,” He exhales hard, his eyes a little shiny and you press forward to wrap your arms around him and hug him close, his arms closing around your back.

“If you’re being idiots,” You kiss his chest through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, “I’ll tell you you’re being idiots,”

He laughs low, the vibration running through your chest, “Good.”

“And if I’m being an idiot,” You add, “I’m not going to freak out if you get pissed at me or yell at me,”

“I appreciate that,” He squeezes your shoulders, “but I don’t want to be the guy that yells, that’s not really an alpha stereotype I’ve ever wanted to fit.”

“Okay,” You nod against him.

He clears his throat a little roughly and you’re about to pull away but he holds you steady for a moment, “There’s one more thing,”

Your hand strokes a line down his back, as you hum softly, “Hmm?”

“I have more to say and to apologize for,” You can feel his heart beating a little faster under your cheek and you stroke his back again, “but I’m still figuring out how to do that, and it might not be fair of me to ask, but I wanted to see if you can be patient with me for that.”

“Yunho,” You murmur, “what’s going on?”

“I, uh,” His fingers flex tightly against your skin, “I started seeing someone,”

“Someone?”

“Professionally,” He adds, “Mingi used to and I know it helped. I didn’t think I needed to, but I think we can both agree I am not the best at managing my own emotions here,”

“Oh,”

“So,” He breathes, “after our fight, when I finally cooled off and realized what we did I asked him for a referral. I’ve been meeting with her once a week and it’s been helpful, but I’m not ready to apologize to you for the rest of it until I understand why I treated you like that,”

Emotion fills your chest like a balloon and you nod into him, “Yunho,”

He clears his throat again, “Sorry,” he says, “this is a little uncomfortable for me to talk about, but I’m working on it,”

You wriggle out of his arms to find his face again and press up on your tiptoes to catch his mouth, kissing him with as much surety as you can before you lean back, “That means everything to me,” you tell him, “everything. You have all the time in the world from me, okay?”

“Yeah,” He smiles, “good, okay,”

“Is it helping?”

“Definitely,” He nods, “it’s almost like the professionals know what they’re talking about,”

You smile up at him.

“I know I mentioned it before,” He adds quickly, “and I won’t press it, but if you do feel like it would be helpful for you too, you can come to me and I can ask my therapist for some numbers for you to call. I’ll even help set up an appointment if you need that,”

Your chest goes tight at the thought, “I’ll let you know,”

“Okay,” He smooths a hand up and down your back, “no pressure,”

“For sure,” You manage.

His lip quirks up and he presses a long kiss to your forehead as he gives you one more squeeze, “I said I won’t press, don’t panic,”

“Sorry,” You breathe.

He makes a noise dismissing that and then steps back, “So,” his eyes are bright again, everything equalizing back to normal with his smile, “you were making tea, can I help?”

Your shoulders relax, tension bleeding out of you in an instant, “No,” you turn back to the warm kettle, “but can I make you a cup?”

“Sure,” He pulls two teacups down from the cupboard, “so Woo will be here in an hour?”

“Mhm,” You tap your phone to light up the screen to check for any other texts.

“Got it,” He nods, “would you feel alright with Mingi and I stepping out for a while?”

“Out?”

“I need to run by the studio and check in on things,” He explains, “and we need to get some food in here. I figured we could do that while Wooyoung keeps you company,”

“Yeah,” Your heart picks up a little at the thought, but you press that feeling down and drop a teabag in each of your cups, “I’ll be just fine,”

“Good,” He drops another kiss to your hair, keeping his fingers lingering on your skin while you pour hot water into your cups.

“Do you,” You almost stop the question, but you find the words bubbling out of your mouth before you can second guess, “do you need to leave right away?”

Yunho smiles wide, taking the kettle from your hands as he shakes his head, “No,”

Your heart eases a little.

“Let’s have these together,” He nods to the tea and picks up both cups, “we’ll go when Woo gets here,”

You follow him out into the living room, and he sets the cups down on the table before settling himself into the corner cushions and reaching up for you. It’s easy to take his hand and to melt into the familiar position on his lap, and you let him draw you in close and cuddle you, his arms wrapped securely around you as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose.

You sigh, resting your hands on his chest and turning your face a little to catch his mouth in a kiss.

He hums pleasantly against your mouth, “Is it strange to say that I’ll miss you while we’re out?”

You smile, shaking your head, “No,”

“Will you miss us?” He pecks your lips again.

“More than I want to admit,”

“You know,” Yunho smooths his hands over your body to rest in their familiar homes, one on your thigh and the other curled around your waist, “I hate what happened, and I wish I could take all the bad memories away, but I’m also so glad you’re here with us,”

“I know what you mean,” You nod.

“The months we spent apart were terrible,” He confesses, kissing you softly.

“We’ll have to make up for lost time,” You agree quietly.

“A proper date,” He smiles, “or a vacation somewhere warm?”

“Mm,” You hum, thinking of being stretched out on a beach somewhere with your boys on either side of you, “perfect,”

“I’ll think on that,” He runs a hand down your hair and relaxes back into the couch, “you deserve something nice,”

Twisting on his lap you reach for both of your teacups before settling back into the same, comfortable position, “I think it would just be nice to come over here without having something traumatic happen beforehand,”

He frowns a little.

“I’m kidding,” You nudge him softly, “kind of,”

“I know,” He nods, “still,”

“Yeah,” You quietly agree, taking the first sip of your tea.

Yunho takes a sip too, and then hums a short, quick laugh, “This smells like you,”

“Like me?”

“The tea,” He takes another sip and nods, “you smell just the same, but sweeter,”

“Do you like it?” You find yourself asking.

Yunho’s head cocks slightly to the side, a line between his brows, and then he says, “Have I not made it clear how much I love your scent?”

Your cheeks heat and he smiles at the way your skin reddens.

“Sweetheart,” He shifts, pulling you in while still being careful of the tea, pressing warm, lingering kisses over your jaw to the hollow of your ear, “if I could drink you instead, I would.”

You swallow, heat curling in your belly.

“Soothing tea,” He murmurs, “sweet honey,” he adds with a kiss, “and the willow is sharp and fresh. You wake me up and calm me down all at the same time,”

Your pulse quickens, and slowly your head drops to the side, extending the column of your neck to his lips.

He takes it slow, remembering the way you jerked back in bed a few nights before, and he’s careful not to press too firmly or give you any inclination that he’s going to touch you with anything but his lips.

“You smell like home,” He murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your head in his wide palm, kissing just a little lower still.

Your muscles are stiffening up at the feeling of his mouth getting lower towards your exposed gland and your fingers tighten on his shirt where you hold yourself steady.

“I’ve got you,” He whispers, “stay with me,”

You nod, just a little, enough to tell him not to stop, “W-what else?”

He smiles against your throat, “Well,” he kisses again, to punctuate his words, “when you’re happy, really happy or excited, there’s lemon too,”

Your breath feels staggered, thready, and you focus on the feeling of him and the warmth of the teacups against your thigh.

“When you want us,” He takes a deep inhale, sighing hot against your skin, “it’s all honey, thick and syrupy. After your heat I smelled that honey here for weeks,”

You feel a whine building a little in your throat, and you bite down on your lip to keep it buried. Your body feels like it’s fighting itself with every touch of his mouth, hot arousal knots up at his scent mingling with yours and at his words, but the isolated touch alone has you fighting little flashes of a place that isn’t here and isn’t him.

“I’ve got you,” He repeats, “I love you,”

The reply settles on the tip of your tongue, but then he presses one last closed-lipped kiss directly over your gland and withdrawals entirely. You blink hard, a shudder running up your spine.

“Alright?” He checks, smoothing his hand down your hair again.

You nod, letting your fingers unknot from his shirt while you collect yourself.

“Hopefully that answers your question,” He clears his throat softly.

You start to nod, but the sound of the bathroom door opening cuts through the moment and you start, tea spilling over the lip of your cup onto your fingers.

“It’s Mingi, baby,” He assures you.

“I know,” You have to tear your eyes off the hallway though.

His mouth is set in a concerned little line, and you know he’s probably thinking about your conversation in the kitchen again, but he lets it lie and doesn’t push it, just like he promised.

Mingi appears a moment later, a towel slung around his hips and his shoulders and hair wet from the shower. He smiles widely when he sees you both, “What’s going on in here?”

Yunho raises up his cup, “Tea,” he smiles, “nothing much,”

“Mm,” Mingi nods and stretches, “nice,”

“Will you be ready soon?” Yunho asks, “Wooyoung will be here in a bit,”

“Yeah, sure,” He confirms and then glances at you, “you’re good with us going out?”

“I’m good,” You confirm.

“I’ll stay if it would make you feel better,” Mingi adds, “I can hide in the bedroom and listen to music or something if you want privacy,”

You love them both so much in this moment you feel like your chest might crack right open on its own, and you shake your head at him with a smile, “No, I have to get comfortable at some point, it might as well be while Woo is here with me,”

He nods, “Well, we won’t be too far, just call us and we’ll turn around.”

“Thank you,” You reach up to take his hand and he twines his fingers with yours immediately.

Yunho shifts, pressing his lips against your shoulder, “Are you and Woo going out anywhere?”

He’s clearly trying to be subtle, but you hear the anxious note in his voice and it occurs to you that they might be just as nervous leaving you as you are staying here without them.

You shake your head, “No, just staying here,”

“That’s good,” Mingi adds a little too quickly, “if you do go out, would you let us know?”

“I will,” You promise them, “but you don’t have to worry,”

“It’s in our nature to worry over you,” Yunho sighs, “but I think we’re both trying not to be overbearing about this whole thing,”

“Trying,” Mingi shrugs, “but also the idea of not knowing where you are feels like it might give me hives,”

You laugh at the image, easing back into Yunho’s chest.

“To be clear,” Yunho shoots Mingi a look, “that’s in a nice ‘we care about you’ way, not in a ‘controlling boyfriend’ kind of way,”

“Relax,” You tell them both, “I get why you want to know, it’s the same reason I want to know where you are.”

“Studio first,” Mingi offers without you asking and your chest warms, “then groceries, and then I want to swing by that cafe that has that caramel cheesecake you like, then home,”

“Don’t say we don’t have to,” Yunho adds, “we want to,”

You smile as he takes the words right out of your mouth.

“Plus, I want some,” Mingi says with ease.

You’re not used to this type of relationship yet, having alphas of your own who actually want to be with you and take care of you, who worry for you and feel for you in all the deep nervous ways you feel for them. You hush the nagging voice in your mind that tries to tell you not to show them how much you need them, the voice that doesn’t want you to jump too fast, you already know what you get by listening to that voice.

Instead you ask them what you want to ask, “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“Two hours,” Yunho offers, “maybe three at the most,”

“Okay,” You exhale, weight dropping away from your shoulders, “that’s perfect,”

“We’ll let you know,” Mingi adds, “and if you need anything special while we’re out, we can stop,”

You shake your head, “I’m fine,” You assure them, “a little anxious, but you know, it’s good for me.”

Mingi smiles warmly, brushing his hand over your cheek and tilting your face up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, “We’re a phone call away,”

“I know,” You nod.

Yunho sighs as Mingi’s hand drops away, and he kisses your shoulder again, “It’s funny,” he says, “I really don’t want to leave you,”

“We did just spend three months not seeing each other and in a state of constant relationship limbo,” You point out and give him a squeeze, “we really went from nothing to a whole lot of something fast,”

“Not too fast?” Mingi checks, trying to sound casual.

“No,” You say, “and even if it is, I don’t care,”

“We’ve always felt right together,” Yunho adds, “we’re just letting ourselves enjoy it now,”

He’s never said something so true.

Mingi gets dressed and collapses onto the couch next to both, pushing closer into your space with Yunho until you’re both practically on his lap, but it works. You stay knit close together until there’s a knock on the door and then it’s fast kisses goodbye and big hugs from your best friend, and before you can really process it you’re without them for the first time in days.

Your stomach is fluttering, a nervous quiver deep in your gut that you really don’t want Wooyoung to over-analyze. A moment later you find yourself back on the couch in the warm spot Yunho left, wrapping yourself in the blanket you had all shared the night before. You can smell them on it, earthy, warm, and sweet.

Wooyoung watches as you start to relax, and he takes a seat right next to you to keep close, a closed smile on his lips.

You can’t believe you miss them already.

They must miss you too though, because Mingi only makes it a scant ten minutes before he texts you, his message lighting up your phone - Forgot to say I love you - I love you.

“What?” Wooyoung nudges you under the blanket.

You pass your phone to him and he reads the message, his eyebrows shooting up high, “I leave you alone for a few days and you’re all saying ‘I love you’s?”

You grab the phone back and tuck it away, “That’s the thing about life changing trauma,” you laugh, “it really accelerates the big feelings,”

Wooyoung nods, keeping things light, but finds your hand on the back of the couch so he can hold it.

“Also we’re not all saying it,” You confess, “they’re saying it,”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they’ve told me,” You explain, “the day after the studio we had this big talk,”

“Don’t tell me they put all that shit on you like that,” He wraps his hand around yours, “y/n,”

“Not like that,” You shake your head, “it’s actually hysterical, they thought that Seonghwa and I have been dating,”

His eyes go wide, “What?”

“It’s truly the longest story of miscommunication,” You tell him, “at this point I think someone should write a book about me and make it a romantic comedy,”

“Erotica,” Wooyoung smirks.

“Shut up,” You swat at him.

“There have been too many good orgasms for a romcom,” He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, “Anyways, it turns out the whole not talking period while you were all away was just me pining but feeling like I fucked it up, and them pining but thinking I had moved on with Hwa,”

“Damn,”

“But when they realized that they were wrong about that,” You continue, “we just got it all out there,”

“And they love you,” He smiles a little, “and they actually said it,”

“Yeah,” You soften into the cushions.

“I hate to ask the obvious,” He squeezes your hand, “but if you’re so happy about that, why haven’t you told them? You do love them?”

“So much,” The words fly out like you’re defending something, and you run a hand through your hair as you get your real thoughts steady, “I do, Woo, so much. We’re scent matches,”

“I know,” He nods warmly.

“You do?”

“Anyone with eyes can see that,” Wooyoung smiles, “well, apart from you three.”

“Thanks,”

He nudges your thigh with his foot under the blanket, “Honestly, though, after what happened I could see it on them. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and they kept flanking you, watching you like you might disappear,”

A memory of the studio plays like a clip in your mind, the way they held you between them, the three of you against everything. You nod, “They’ve been doing that for days,”

“Which…” Wooyoung trails off, trying to guess where your head is, “you’re happy about?”

“I am,” You nod emphatically, “and I love them, I just… I can’t get the fucking words out of my mouth,”

He sobers a little, sliding closer to you on the couch so he can draw your legs over his lap and give you exactly the kind of comfort you need, “I’m listening, babe, talk to me,”

“I don’t know why,” You hold his hand tighter, “but every time they say it, and I think I’m going to say it back, I’m right back in that room with Minseok’s teeth on my neck and I can’t,” your chest feels tight, “I can’t get it out,”

His eyes soften, empathetic in the way that only he can be, “Does being in love with them scare you?”

“No!” You pull your hand back from his.

“Babe,” He takes your hand back and holds tight, “I’m not saying they scare you, I’m saying does being in love, being vulnerable like that scare you?”

Your shoulders drop, “A little, but,”

“But?”

“I thought about it for three months,” You argue, “I had it rehearsed, I knew exactly what I wanted to say and the big reveal was supposed to be the ‘I love you’ part not the ‘I’m sorry’ part,”

“Your plans on that kind of fell apart when that asshole tried to claim you,” Wooyoung pushes back a little.

“Yeah, no shit,” A flurry of anger bubbles in your belly.

He nods, “And now you’re off kilter,”

“You could say that,”

“You rarely do anything without thinking it through,” He offers, this thumb drawing a comforting line over your palm, “and your plan got fucked, and you’re emotionally vulnerable, and traumatized, and stressed. You feel like you’re out here without a life vest,”

His words stun you silent.

“And this thing you worked up in your mind for three months is now totally derailed,” He continues, “am I on the money?”

You nod.

“Can I ask you something?” He says.

You nod again.

Wooyoung asks this question softly, his voice quiet and gentle, “Do you want to bond with them?”

Your heart thumps in your chest.

“It’s just you and me,” Wooyoung soothes you, “and whether or not you bond with them is your choice, okay? But, babe, is that something you think you’ll want?”

Suddenly you remember the feeling of your heat with them. The way you begged for them, the way it felt so right and so sure that you belonged to each other. You remember how your mind spun imaginary futures that all ended the same way.

Silently, you nod.

“Loving them isn’t bonding,” He murmurs, “you can just love them for now at your own pace.”

Tears prick at the back of your eyes, “What if I can never do it? They can barely touch my neck without me falling apart, what if I can never take a real claim?”

“Oh, babe,” He pulls you towards him, crushing you to his chest, “I wish you called me earlier, you shouldn’t be thinking like this,”

“It was so terrible,” You confess into his shoulder, “I can’t even tell you, I don’t even know how to explain,”

“You don’t have to,” He hushes you, a hand stroking up and down your back, “and I don’t know if this is going to help or hurt, but I know right now you feel like there’s no way you’d ever be able to take a claim without it being scary and awful, but someday you might be able to without even thinking of him.”

A few hot tears escape your eyes.

“And I know I give Yunho and Mingi shit,” He adds, “but you know that both of them would rather die than do something to hurt you or scare you,”

“And if I can never bond?” You manage.

“Then I’d say thank god your scent matches are two men who would never, ever push you into a bond you weren’t ready for,” He says, squeezing you tight, “and I think if you asked them, they’d tell you that they’d rather be with you unbonded and happy than bonded and in pain.”

“You’re right,” You wipe away the wetness on your cheeks, “I know you’re right,”

“They’re not going to try to push you into a bond just because you love each other,” He lets you lean back but he slides his hand back into yours, “especially not now,”

“I know that,” You sigh, “rationally, I was just,”

“I’m telling you, I get it,” He eases you, “sometimes you go through something and you think a part of you is wrecked forever, that you’ll never be able to do something again or feel normal again, but you will. I promise,”

You know the truth of him so suddenly you can’t stop the words, “Woo,” you feel your heart beating faster, “did something happen?”

“A long, long time ago,” He says softly, “and today’s not the day for that story, but I’m telling you it does get better and it does soften in your memory and someday your alphas are going to touch your neck and you won’t even think about it, it just won’t be there anymore.”

Grief and relief mingle in your gut at his words, and you want to ask him more, to be there for him like he’s been there for you but you can see it in his face, today isn’t the day for that story.

You squeeze his hand, “I love you, Woo,”

“I love you too,” He assures you.

Silence sits between you for a moment while you turn over his words, and though you can’t imagine the day he’s describing, you still believe him. You have to. You don’t know what happened to him or when, but you’ve never met someone as bright and open and happy as him, and you have to hold onto that truth.

You look down at your combined hands, “Yunho offered to make an appointment with a therapist for me,”

“Say yes,” Wooyoung replies without a thought, “I waited years and I wish I hadn’t,”

“Yeah?”

“Does he have a contact?” Wooyoung asks, drawing your eyes back up, “I have some options for you if not,”

“He said he can ask his therapist for a referral,”

“His therapist?” Wooyoung grins, “I knew I liked him,”

“You’ve been friends for years,” You nudge him.

“Liked him for you,” He corrects, “that’s different,”

“Yeah, yeah,”

“My best friend deserves an alpha who is fully therapized and capable of complex emotions,” Wooyoung says with confidence, “nothing less.”

“Don’t mention that I told you,” You add quickly, “he told me that in confidence, it just slipped out,”

“I wouldn’t,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “that’s private. But between you and me, I’m glad to hear it.”

“Me too,” You sigh.

“And as far as you going?” Wooyoung circles back to the real question at hand, “Say yes, the sooner the better. If Yunho’s offering to help set it up, let him. Making that call is hard, and if he can make it easier, just say yes.”

“Okay,” You sigh, your shoulders dropping.

“And tell them how you’re feeling about bonding,” He adds, “trust me.”

“Maybe,” You say, “I know you’re right. We’re just moving so fast,”

“So slow down,” He offers.

“I don’t know if I want to,” You admit, warmth and nervous energy filling your chest, “it feels right like this, I just don’t know if I can handle a claim,”

“Tell them,” He reiterates, “don’t let them stumble into that one, they might hurt you without even knowing it if they bring it up sooner than you’re ready for.”

“Right,” You nod, “you’re right,”

He huffs a laugh, “Usually am,”

You flick his arm, rolling your eyes, so grateful at him for helping you work through something this hard while still keeping you smiling. You should have called him earlier, he’s right about that too.

You let silence stretch around you both for a moment, and then something occurs to you.

“Do you know anything about the charges Minseok is filing?” You run a hand through your hair, “Not to bring up yet another pleasant subject,”

Wooyoung snorts a little air through his nose and shrugs, “I probably know what you know, have you talked to Hwa?”

You shake your head.

“At all?” He seems surprised.

“I have,” You correct, “but it was quick and we were all on the call. I haven’t been to my place to see if there’s any mail, but I’d guess Yunho and Mingi will get a summons soon.”

Wooyoung nods, “That’s what the police said,”

Your eyebrows raise, “You talked to the police?”

“Seonghwa did,” He clarifies, “and he gave San and I the run down.”

“Why is no one telling me what’s going on?” You exhale heavily.

“Because last we heard you were having nightmares,” Wooyoung rests a hand on your folded legs, “and we don’t have a lot of information to give, and I don’t think any of us want to cause you more stress than you need.”

“Do Yunho and Mingi know?” You press.

“Not exactly,” Wooyoung says, “though, I guess Seonghwa might be telling them now if they stopped by the studio,”

You wait for him to continue, but you’re a little relieved at least that your boys aren’t keeping anything from you directly.

“Seonghwa spoke to the police who explained the charges. Minseok is alleging that the guys misunderstood what they saw and ignored his attempts to explain, and that they used unnecessary force intervening on your behalf.” He says it plainly.

“Misunderstood?” You repeat the word.

“I know,” Wooyoung nods, “we all know, but that’s what he’s saying. The police advised Seonghwa to get an attorney and let him know that further charges were being filed. I think we can safely assume that’s Yunho and Mingi, maybe San if he’s really going after it.”

“Maybe me too,” You add.

“Maybe,” He nods, “but that would be tough to prove I think,”

“Hmm,” Your eyes feel a little unfocused.

“Hey,” Wooyoung gets your attention with a squeeze, “we don’t know anything yet, and we thought this might happen. It doesn’t change the truth and it doesn’t mean any of them regret what they did to make sure you were safe, okay?”

“Yeah,”

“Tell me you understand,” He presses, “because I’m not letting you put this one on yourself,”

“I do, I understand,” You nod, “it just sucks,”

“That’s fair,” He gives you a soft smile, “but it’s going to take a lot more than this to fuck us over,”

“Yeah,” You murmur, “you’re probably right.”

Wooyoung says something else but you hardly hear it, in the back of your mind all you can think of is that first night at the hospital. The detectives who interviewed you were kind, but bordered on dismissive, and you know Minseok and his family have deeper pockets than you do. You have to figure this out, you have to.

“Babe?” Wooyoung nudges you.

“Yeah,” You snap up, coming back to the present moment and letting those anxieties fade into the background until you can really think them through, “sorry,”

“It’s okay,” He soothes you.

Your phone buzzes on your lap again and you pull it up to see the message. It’s Mingi again - Budae Jjigae for dinner, ask Wooyoung if he wants to stay? We’ll have plenty

It’s like he felt your anxiety from miles away and you can feel the tense knot of your shoulders unlocking. You send back a quick heart emoji and then look back up to your friend, “You want to stay for dinner?”

He smiles, “Who’s cooking?”

“Mingi,” You tell him, “he’s been on a comfort food kick for me,”

Wooyoung smiles, “I’ll stay,”

“Great,” You tap out a reply to Mingi letting him know and take a big sigh.

“They make you happy,” Wooyoung says, “it’s nice to see,”

“It’s nice to feel,” You tell him, “after all this time, and after everything,”

“You deserve it,” He murmurs.

You smile, a little tease at the corner of your mouth when you nudge him, “So do you, and speaking of,”

His face lights up fast, “I wasn’t trying to bring my too-good mood over here if things weren’t going well,” he sighs, “but now that I know you’re all in love,”

“So you and Yeosang?” You turn the conversation to something so much happier, and feel lighter the second you do.

“It’s so good,” He gushes, head falling back against the cushions, “he’s kind of quiet, kind of hard to get to know at first, but y/n, he’s so funny,”

“Yeah?” You smile.

“And smart,” He adds, “and considerate, he’s always getting me coffees or refilling my water, just like, those little things,”

“Wow, look at you,” You squeeze his hand, “serial dater of alphas, turned into a blushy mess over a funny, smart, considerate beta,”

“He’s packing like an alpha, I’ll say that,” Wooyoung grins wolfishly.

You smack his chest, “Woo! Literally that is too much information,”

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “I share a locker room with your boyfriends, I know what you’re working with,”

You feel your face flush red.

“Cute,” He teases.

“So,” You divert, “does Yeosang feel as strongly?”

His smile drops a little, “I mean,” he says, “I think so? But he’s not really an oversharer,”

“Have you told anyone else?” You try to be casual about that question, but if you’re being honest you’re dying to know where things will land with San and Seonghwa.

Wooyoung shakes his head though, “Not yet, but I think when everything calms down I might have him pick me up at the studio or something? I want you to meet him and I want everyone to know, I just,”

“I get it,” You assure him, “you go at your own pace.”

“Yeah,” He sighs.

“Just don’t follow my lead,” You smile, “if you like him, don’t run away in a panic,”

“Noted,” He laughs.

He looks so happy, bright from the inside in a way that matches his sunny scent, and you think he’s not far from sharing ‘I love you’s of his own at this rate.

You squeeze his hand again and catch his attention back, “You really look so happy,” you tell him.

“I am,” He sighs, “he’s exactly what I needed,”

You smile, and then push his legs to the side, “Move over, I know you have pictures, you’re holding out,”

He laughs sharply, head falling back but letting you manhandle him a little so you can snuggle into his side. Wooyoung tugs the blanket around you both and pulls out his phone, “Fine,”

“Like it’s a burden to show your best friend pictures of your hot new boyfriend,” You smack his chest, “come on,”

Wooyoung drops his arm around your shoulders until you’re slotted together on the corner of the couch, but he still hasn’t lit up his phone. You’re about to nudge him again, but then you feel him press a soft kiss to your hair.

“You know,” He says softly, “when Sannie called me and told me what happened, I just felt so sick,”

You find his other hand under the covers and lace your fingers together, “I’m okay,”

He nods, sighing into your skin, “I just want you to know,” he says, his voice a little tight, “you mean so much to me, and I’ll be grateful to them forever for stopping him,”

You blink back a few tears and nod, “I am okay, though,”

He nods again and clears his throat, “I know,”

“I think you’re avoiding my questions about Yeosang,” You squeeze his hand tightly, an acknowledgement of his emotions and his words, while steering the conversation back to happier topics.

“You’re right,” He laughs, “you caught me.”

“Come on,” You nudge him again, pushing down the little swell of emotion that his words brought up.

“He’s not really a selfie guy,” Wooyoung slides his finger across his phone screen until he finds Instagram and then navigates to his new man’s page, “but, I don’t know, I think you’ll like his vibe.”

Your face cracks into a wide smile when you see the profile, clearly that of an artist, a photographer. The first post on his page is of Wooyoung, though you’d have to know Wooyoung well to know it. He’s walking away from camera through a dark Itaewon street, the lines of his body accented by the neon club signs.

“Oh, Woo,” You relax against him and open that photo to see it larger, “he really likes you,”

He snatches the phone away, a little pink in his cheeks as he rushes to downplay the truth of what you can see plain as day, and you fight to get back the phone, your cheeks starting to hurt from how much you’ve been laughing.

You and Wooyoung stay like this for ages, warmly locked together as you swap stories and funny things on both your phones. By the time your phone chimes with another text from Mingi, at least two hours have gone by.

Almost home! His message reads.

Your chest feels warm, your heart whole at the words.

“They’ll be back in a minute,” You tell Wooyoung as you set your phone aside.

“Perfect,” He grins, “so exactly how much teasing can I get away with before you get mad?”

You fall apart again into laughter, happy tears stinging at your eyes. You don’t hear the front door open at first, but when you finally look up you see them standing frozen in the doorway with such softness in their expressions. You feel the words bubble up at the sight of them, but again they stay resting at the tip of your tongue.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes and pushes off the couch, “Alright, alright stop making heart eyes at each other and tell me what’s in the box,”

Your eyes flick down to the large white box in Mingi’s hand, the perfect cheesecake nestled inside waiting just for you. Wooyoung takes a few grocery bags out of their hands and heads off to the kitchen, and just like that your night falls together naturally.

You don’t think about Minseok again until later that night. For a beautiful, blissful four hours you just laughed and ate and relaxed with your best friend and your boyfriends, and he doesn’t enter your brain at all.

It isn’t until you’re lying in bed alone with your thoughts, Yunho and Mingi deep asleep on either side of you, that you realize what you have to do.

In the morning you wake from a dreamless sleep, and you start to put your plan in motion. You slip out of bed and leave them to their rest, light only just stretching its way through the Seoul skies outside. Seeing Wooyoung made you feel lighter in a way that you can’t explain, and within minutes you’re scrawling out a note, stealing Mingi’s key, and lacing up your sneakers.

Out for a walk, be back in a little while, don’t worry too much x

You leave it on their kitchen counter and you hope it’s enough to keep them from looking for you. You need a little space from your own scared reflection in the mirror, and a new perspective on the plan you’ve been turning over since your head hit the pillows last night.

The note isn’t a lie, strictly speaking, you are out for a walk, but you also know if you told them exactly where you were on a walk to, they'd worry. They wouldn’t just worry, they would have insisted on coming with you, but this is something you have to do alone.

You take the long way to the hospital down the river path, letting the cool day calm your mind and keep you centered. You go over in your mind all the things you want to say to him when you see him, assuming you actually make it into his room. You wonder how hard it will be to convince him. You wonder if you’ll even be able to get a single word out of your mouth.

You have to try.

Yunho’s words from yesterday morning in the kitchen sink into you. The tenderness in his eyes when he mentioned how jumpy you’ve been around the apartment. You hadn’t even realized it, but now you feel it in your shoulders and your stomach with the sound of every opening door, every squeak of a shoe on vinyl flooring. Everytime you look up into a mirror you expect to see a face over your shoulder, to feel hands on your hips.

Minseok had taken so many little things from you in the span of three minutes.

You need to take something back.

Every step leading into the hospital is heart pounding and nerve wracking, stress inducing on a level you’ve never experienced, but standing in front of reception you suddenly feel an overwhelming calm. Your mind is clear, operating on something wholly unconscious and you don’t know where you’ve mustered this feeling from, but you let it take you.

You give over Minseok’s full name and provide the kindest smile you can to the woman behind the desk,“I’m his sister,” you tell her. The lie rolls right off your tongue, so clean and easy you surprise yourself.

“Oh,” The nurse nods, “well visiting hours don’t start until eleven,”

“I have work,” You counter, softening your face, “I’m sorry, but do you think you could make an exception? I’ll be very quick, I just want to see him for a few minutes before I have to run,”

She considers it, and you know you have her the minute she checks the nurse’s station to see who else is there with her before she breaks a rule, “Alright, but just be quick, five minutes,”

“Thank you so much,” You smile, “really, you’re so kind,”

She waves you off, glancing around her again, “He’s in 305, the third door down on your left when I open the doors,”

“Thank you,”

She presses a button on the wall and the lock springs free, opening the heavy security door to your side. With one last smile and deeply grateful bow, you slip through the door and make it through into the hospital hallway where you are most definitely not supposed to be.

Third door on the left.

You have to be quick, not so you don’t get caught, but so you don’t chicken out. If you stand in this hallway and let yourself really think about what you’re doing, you’ll turn right around and go home. Steeling yourself, you rush forwards and find the door to 305 and with a deep breath you slip inside.

Private rooms are expensive, that thought occurs to you as you shut the door tightly behind you. That fact, plus the reality that he’s already talking about pressing his own charges, tells you Seonghwa was right, he has some kind of family money. You hope that when you turn around and actually face the room you won’t have to contend with his mother or father or god forbid some girlfriend you know nothing about. You need him to be alone.

Blissfully, the room is quiet, the only sounds are medical and simple. With your palms flat against the door you take a deep breath, and if Minseok is awake he says nothing, makes no sound, while you gather the nerve to do this.

Finally, you turn.

He is awake, studying you with a careful expression, but then your eyes flick over him. He’s more than injured, he’s completely incapacitated. You catalog it all quickly - his leg suspended in an elevating sling, ankle wrapped up tight, wrist sprained and in a brace, his face is bruised and battered and you realize in seconds that his broken jaw is wired shut. He has an oxygen cannula tucked into his bandaged nose, and you remember that his ribs are broken too.

You wonder which of your boys delivered each piece of punishment.

Your mouth feels dry, and your pulse is quickening, the sight of him so close is enough to induce panic but he can’t really do anything to you in this state so you have to just be brave. You push yourself off the wall and walk to the end of his hospital bed, “Hey,”

He gestures to his jaw and shrugs to communicate that he can’t really talk.

“I know,” You nod, “I heard.”

It’s strange to be here with him like this when last week you were working side by side. It’s bizarre to suddenly feel this bubble of uncomfortable space and distance, and to feel the fear underneath it all.

He gestures towards you with his bandaged hand and you know he’s asking why you’re here.

“I heard about the counter charges,” You came here with a purpose and you have to stick to it, “and I came here to ask you to drop them.”

He shakes his head and looks down at himself and then back up to you.

“After what you did?” Anger curls up in your belly, “I think they took it pretty easy on you.”

He huffs, a puff of air from his closed lips.

“Listen,” You try, “you and I both know what you tried to do, and whatever your excuse is, it doesn’t matter. If they hadn’t gotten you off me… I guess what I’m saying is do the right thing now. You said you were sorry, just drop these charges and we can all move on.”

His eyes harden and he shakes his head.

You thought he was apologetic after, coming to his senses and realizing in the haze of his rut he almost broke someone’s mind, but now you’re starting to think he was just pleading for his own beating to stop.

“You won’t consider it?” You ask, stomach clenching tightly.

He shakes his head again and points to his injuries. Jaw, ribs, leg.

You want to hit him yourself, so suddenly that your fingers curl tight into fists, “You tried to fucking claim me because I wouldn’t go out on a date with you, and you think you’re the victim here?”

He seems irritated by your question, and he reaches for something on the tray table to his side. He pulls up a small whiteboard and marker, clearly given to him by hospital staff to communicate, and he wipes away the words that were there to write out his message to you.

I’m the one in a hospital bed.

“You bastard,” The words just slip out, “why do you think? They put you here for a fucking reason, Minseok,”

He wipes the message away and writes something else.

Keep your alphas on a leash.

You’ve never understood the phrase ‘seeing red’ before, but now it’s meaning is crystal clear, “You should keep yourself on a leash.”

He huffs.

“Using tone to submit an omega is illegal, Minseok,” You round the corner of the bed, “the prison time for something like that is long. It’s not even just assault, I think that’s something like three or four years? But using tone… claiming against an omega’s will? That’s irreparable damage. I wonder how many charges they’d stack on top in court? Psychological trauma? Sexual assault?”

His eyes darken and he wipes the board again, his marker squeaking roughly against it as he angrily writes out the next message.

I never touched you like that.

“You would have,” You shake your head, “as soon as I was your nice obedient omega and couldn’t say no.”

He stares daggers, but says nothing.

“They might be able to prove intent,” You tell him, “throw a few more years on top for good measure. How old do you think you’ll be when they let you out? Do you think a dance studio would hire a forty year old man?”

His face pales, he looks sick suddenly.

“You’ll drop the charges,” You tell him, “and when you do, I’ll drop mine.”

His eyes widen.

“You’ll never set foot in the studio again, and you’ll go find another job somewhere else.”

His eyes skim over you, trying to gauge your honesty.

“Do you understand me?” You don’t know what’s possessing you, what’s holding you up so you can get these words out, but you’ve never felt more sure.

He says nothing.

You lean in closer, close enough that if he was uninjured he could easily have you back in control, but with his jaw wired shut and his lack of mobility, he can’t do a thing. Nerves flutter up your body as you lean in, and you’re sure he can smell Yunho and Mingi on you, but the guarantee that he can’t touch you is filling you with a sick sense of power, of sure joy.

“You tried and you failed,” You tell him, and he huffs, “and that’s on you.”

His cheek twitches and you’re sure he’d be clenching his jaw if he could do it without exceptional pain.

“You’ll do this for me, you owe me,” You hold his gaze despite the flutter of fear it brings you, “and if you don’t, I don’t care what it takes. I’ll see you in court and if that doesn’t work, I’ll make sure that you never, ever get hired again. Every studio in Korea will know what you did, and every omega in Seoul will know what you really are, and if you ever get close to me again after today I’ll break your jaw myself.”

His eyes flick down.

“Do you understand me?” You repeat, enunciating clearly.

He nods once.

“Good,” You push back from him and get some distance, “get the charges against all of them dropped by tomorrow and I’ll call and withdraw mine. Don’t ever come back to the studio, if you left stuff there consider it gone.”

He holds your gaze, and then he writes out a question - How do I know you’ll keep your word?

“You don’t,” You shrug, “but I promise you I wouldn’t be here in this room with you at all if I wasn’t willing to drop them.”

He turns your words over.

“Minseok,” You sigh, “they mean more to me than watching you go to jail, please, just do the right thing.”

He wipes his hand again across the whiteboard and then he shifts, looking back up to you to nod in agreement.

“You’ll do it?”

He nods again and then picks the marker back up to write something.

“Don’t,” You stop him, “there’s nothing you can say I want to hear. Just do this and we’ll be done.”

He looks away and without meeting your eyes again, he nods.

“Don’t make me come back,” You press him, but he doesn’t respond and that will have to be enough. You’ve done what you came to do.

You’re out of his room in a flash, back through the security doors and quick past the front desk. You don’t spare a single glance at the nurse who broke the rules for you, you just need to get out of here before you let the reality of what you’ve done hit you sideways. You don’t let a single thing consume you until you’re out of the hospital and on the street again, and you sink down onto the first available bench.

Your heart is pounding, hands trembling. You need to get this under control before you go home because the last thing you want is to cause Yunho and Mingi anymore stress or heartache. You give yourself some time to come back into your body, to forget the hard set of Minseok’s eyes and the way his fingers twitched when you got too close, the way you fought the curling panic in your gut to get the words out.

When you do feel whole again, you order a taxi back. You’ve been gone a while, probably a little longer than they expected, and you hope they’re not worried.

Using Mingi’s borrowed key, you slip into the apartment and let their scents wash over you, soothing you instantly. You shut the door quietly behind you and toe off your shoes before calling out, “Is anyone home?”

You hear movement immediately, Mingi from the kitchen and Yunho from his bedroom and it fills you with warmth.

“Hey,” Mingi gets to the living room first, “how was your walk?”

“Really good,” You tell him, and that’s the truth. The walk itself was nice until you cut it short with your little errand.

“You look good,” He smiles, and Yunho appears from his side of the apartment as Mingi continues, “fresher,”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “it’s a beautiful morning out,”

“Hey,” Yunho says, smiling at the sight of you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you,” You say, “I just wanted to clear my head a bit, so I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your key,”

Mingi shakes his head as you hang his keyring up by the door.

“We’ll have to get one made for you,” Yunho says, “if you want,”

You let the implication of that lie and you nod, but excitement sparks in your belly.

“Is there any coffee?” You ask, moving into the apartment and heading towards the kitchen. You need to tell them where you’ve been, but you just need a breath before you can.

“Mhm,” Mingi says, “I just made a cup,”

“Oh,” You shake your head, “I don’t want to take yours, I’ll make my own.”

“No, no,” He slides behind you and presses a kiss to your hair as he does, “take it, I’ll make another. Yunho, do you want one?”

“I’m good,” He replies, coming to stand next to you at the small kitchen island.

Mingi looks like he’s thinking about something as he finishes off your cup of coffee and throws an electric kettle back on to make another pourover, but Yunho draws your attention away.

“Jagi,” He starts, “I don’t mean to… well, can we talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” You angle towards him, his words making you a little nervous, “is everything okay?”

“Absolutely,” He assures you, brushing his hand down the length of your arm, “but Mingi and I were talking while you were gone, about how to handle everything with these charges,”

“Oh,” His timing is impeccable.

“We just want to include you,” He says, squeezing your hand, “and make sure we’re handling things the way we should, but it might be smart to try and hire a lawyer before this goes any further,”

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to say this.

“We talked to Seonghwa and he agrees,” Yunho continues, “this will be the easiest way to protect all of us,”

“Yunho,” You start, “hang on,”

“If this is upsetting we can talk about it later,” Yunho adds, “but Seonghwa has some connections through his parents, he wants to make some calls.”

Your stomach twists at the idea of Seonghwa needing to lean on a favor from his parents, and every choice you made that morning becomes perfectly validated with just that thought. You would never, ever let him do that, not after everything he’s done for you.

“It’s not upsetting,” You assure Yunho, trying to interject, “I just don’t think that will be necessary,”

“Getting a lawyer?” He clarifies.

“Yeah,” You swallow hard and glance at Mingi, “I don’t think we’ll need to.”

“I mean, having representation would be best,” Yunho says, “I know it’s stressful, but we need to be careful,”

“Right,” You sigh, needing him to give you a breath to explain, “that’s if there’s a suit,”

“Well sure, but,” Yunho starts but the penny drops for Mingi.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Mingi turns to you fully and the words die on Yunho’s lips as he plays catch up.

You stay quiet, holding his gaze, but when you let out a soft breath he sets his coffee back down.

“y/n,” Mingi says, voice serious and leaving Yunho visibly more and more confused, “tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

“I took care of it,” You settle on the most neutral words you can.

“No,” He shakes his head, “you can’t just say that, you have to give us more than that.”

“I was planning on it,” You push past Yunho to approach Mingi, resting your hands on his upper arms as you get closer into his space, “I swear, you just guessed it too fast,”

“You smell like the hospital,” He explains, his nose crinkled up.

“Whoa, whoa,” Yunho finally catches up, “why were you at the hospital?”

You just have to say it, “I talked to Minseok,”

“Absolutely not,” Yunho pushes around the island and closer to you, “are you insane?”

“He’s completely incapacitated,” You tell them both, “he couldn’t have touched me even if he wanted to,”

“Yes, but you didn’t know that!” Yunho presses, his voice running high in surprise, but you can see he’s doing his best to keep level and cool.

“Look at me,” You settle him, “do I look hurt? Upset?”

“No,” He admits with a puff of dejected air.

“Am I myself?” You take both their hands in yours.

“Yes,” Mingi admits.

“Okay,” You sigh, “now stop freaking out and listen to me, because I promise you I’m perfectly fine,”

Mingi nods once, and Yunho stays silent, which is enough for you to do what you need to do.

“I went there to talk him out of the charges he’s filing,” You explain, “and I guess… I just wanted to understand what he did, so I wanted to talk to him.”

“And?” Yunho prompts.

“He’s an asshole,” You start.

“Did he touch you?” Mingi asks, his voice a little tight and thready, “Say anything to you?”

“No,” You promise, tugging him closer until his hands are properly on you, “come here,”

“You can tell us if he did,” Yunho’s fingertips stroke a gentle pattern over the back of your neck, “we’re not angry, we just want to help,”

“Speak for yourself, I still want to kill him,” Mingi says sharply.

“Hey,” Yunho nudges him, “chill,”

“Both of you relax,” You interject and they fall silent, “he didn’t do anything, he couldn’t even talk, his jaw is fully wired shut,”

Yunho huffs a laugh, “Good,”

You smile, “Honestly, he looked pretty pathetic,”

“He is pretty pathetic,” Mingi points out.

“Right,” You sigh, “well, aside from some choice words written out on a whiteboard, he didn’t have much to say or do. I explained that if he didn’t drop his charges things would be much worse for him in the long run… and he saw reason.”

“He agreed to that?” Mingi’s eyes go wide.

“Mhm,”

“Why?” Yunho’s brows draw together, “Not out of the goodness of his heart, I assume,”

“No,” You shake your head, “but when I tell you, I need you both to promise me you won’t be angry.”

“That’s unfair,” Yunho says.

“Just say it,” Mingi nods, “we won’t know until we know.”

You chew the inside of your lip as you search for the right way to say this, and you know they’ll be upset no matter what, but they deserve honesty. You nod, “I agreed to drop my charges if he drops his,”

They’re silent, deathly silent.

“y/n,” Yunho swallows tightly as he gets his voice even, “why would you do that?”

“He didn’t want to listen to me at first,” You explain, “and I thought it through on the walk. That’s the only piece of leverage we have right now,”

“But he did something wrong, he should be held accountable,” Mingi exclaims, taking a full step away from you and running a hand through his hair.

“You heard the questions the police asked me,” You interject, “how close was I to my next heat? Did I know Minseok was in pre-rut? Why did I stay in the room if he was making me uncomfortable? What was I wearing?”

“But it wasn’t your fault,” Yunho insists, “he used tone, that’s fucking illegal,”

“I said he used tone,” You counter quietly, “but he’ll say he didn’t and he’ll say I got confused or misunderstood. He’ll use our relationship against you both, and my relationship with Seonghwa to paint… a very particular kind of picture about me. We all know what he did but I’m telling you, legally? We’re on the losing side,”

“But,” Mingi shakes his head, “that’s…”

“I know,” You nod, “believe me, I know.”

“You should have taken us with you,” Yunho says quietly, “we could have talked to him for you,”

You shake your head, “No,” you need them to understand, “you got to hit him… you got to do something, I didn’t get to do anything but be fucking scared,”

His expression softens, “Oh,”

“You protected me when I needed you,” You feel tears welling up now at the thought of it, “it’s my turn to protect you,”

They’re so quiet, watching you carefully.

“Nothing is taking you away from me again,” You say it, plain and clear, “nothing is taking away you or my friends, I won’t let that happen,”

Mingi’s arms fold around you fast as he tucks you into his chest and you feel Yunho step close too, laying a warm palm on your back as he leans into you both.

“Whatever you want, we’ll do it,” Mingi murmurs, “okay?”

You nod, closing your eyes as you snuggle into the warmth of him.

“And we’ll handle it together,” Yunho says, “but don’t make this decision for us, make it for you. We,” Yunho’s voice trails, but then he clears his throat and says what he wants to say anyways, “we love you. No matter what happens,”

“I know,” You sigh, snaking an arm out of Mingi’s hold to find Yunho’s hand and tuck him a little closer too, “but I’m sure,”

“I hate to state the obvious here,” Mingi pulls back from you so he can look at you both, “but if he’s not charged with anything, then he’s a free man.”

That thought does make your stomach flip, but you knew that when you walked into the hospital room, “I know,”

“It’s your choice,” Mingi reiterates, “but I still don’t know if I’m comfortable taking that kind of risk with you.”

“I don’t even want to think about that,” Yunho says, his hands finding your shoulders as he tucks closer behind you.

The image of Minseok’s face when you asked about his dance career flickers through your mind and you smile, “I think he got the picture,”

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is hesitant.

“I told him in no uncertain terms,” You can’t get the smile off your face now, “that if he came anywhere near me again I’d break his jaw myself.”

“You didn’t,” Yunho looks down to see your face.

“I did,” You nod, “and before you freak out again, please remember that I’m here and totally fine in front of you,”

Mingi gives you a truly withering look but lets you speak.

“Honestly,” You breathe, “you should have seen him, he was lying there and could barely move, and when he didn’t want to drop the charges at first, I kind of got in his face,”

Yunho’s hands tighten on your shoulders and Mingi scrubs a hand over his face, “Don’t tell me that,”

“But I did,” You press your palms flat against Mingi’s chest, “I told him that if he didn’t drop his charges he would never get rid of me, I told him I’d make his life hell, and he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t touch me,”

Mingi’s quiet, his eyes flicking up to Yunho behind you. Yunho sighs, dropping his forehead to rest against your hair and then his arms relax, wrapping around you from behind.

“I really hate this story,” Yunho says, “but I’m also really proud of you,”

“Me too,” Mingi’s hand closes over both of yours to give you a squeeze.

“I just wish you had told us,” Yunho admits.

“If I had told you I was going there you would have never let me go alone,” You point out.

“Exactly,” Yunho’s arms tighten.

You turn your head to press your lips to his arm where it wraps around your shoulder, and you nuzzle a little into his warm skin, “You know why I had to go though, right? You get it?”

He nods against your head.

Mingi smooths his hand up and down your forearm, “We do,”

“I just hate the thought of him seeing you again,” Yunho admits, lifting his head and readjusting you in his arms, “or being close to you at all,”

“I know,” You lean back into his embrace, “but this is the thing, he got to see me be fine after what he did,”

“And you got to see him,” Mingi puts two and two together with ease and nods, “and he looked pathetic?”

“More than that,” You smile, “he looked… afraid.”

“Good,” Mingi says firmly.

You remember the way he looked in that hospital bed, his eyes darting around the room. He shrank back when you got close, no doubt the scent of Yunho and Mingi lingering on your skin, and you smile up at them at the thought, “He was terrified my alphas were with me,”

Yunho’s lips quirk and he leans around you to meet your eyes, “He wasn’t afraid of us, sweetheart, he was afraid of you.”

“No,” You laugh that off, but they don’t join in and Mingi makes a funny expression at your words.

Yunho slides away, shoulder to shoulder with Mingi now as he looks down at you, “Yes, y/n,” he shakes his head, “he was vulnerable and alone and stuck in a hospital bed, and you’re…”

“A powerful fucking omega,” Mingi supplies.

Yunho nods, “And he knows that you could ruin the rest of his life.”

You don’t know what to say.

“y/n,” Mingi sighs, tugging you in until your bodies are close together, “if you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll lose my mind,”

You move to lift your head and push back, to keep trying to get him to understand why this was so important for you to do alone and why you made the choices you made, but he stops you short.

“But,” He adds, kissing the top of your head, “it was also very brave, and I love you for it.”

“Yeah?” You nudge him.

“Yeah,” He admits.

“I do wish I could have seen it,” Yunho grins, “that asshole scared of you,”

Mingi’s hands slide to your hips, tightening their grip and he swallows hard, “Our fierce little omega,”

A ripple of something needy and unexpected passes through your belly, “Is that what I am?”

Yunho steps closer, finding a home for his hands on your body too, “You called us your alphas,” he says softly, “isn’t that what we are?”

Mingi’s thumbs brush a warm steady pattern into your hips and you feel yourself melting into their hands, “Yes,”

“That makes you our omega, sweetheart,” Yunho eyes flick from yours to your lips.

The way they say omega to you doesn’t sound cold. It doesn’t sound cruel or commanding, no undertone of ownership despite the content of their words. When they say it all you hear is love.

“Say that again,” You murmur softly.

Mingi smiles, lifting his eyes to watch you.

Yunho dips closer, his lips dangerously close, “Our omega?”

You nod a little, heat flushing your cheeks.

“Our omega,” He repeats, pressing his lips to yours. He waits to make sure you want it, he waits to feel you twist in their arms and reach up for him, and then he lets his body follow his thoughts, lips opening and his tongue dipping into your mouth.

Mingi’s hand shifts, spreading wide over your lower belly, his fingertips at the waistband of your pants. You’re not ready for that, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you twitched in his hands when he first adjusted his grip, but either way he makes no move to take anything further. Neither of them do. Despite Yunho’s lips on yours, and the breath between you both, his hands stay put on your back and your cheek while Mingi just holds you, patient and soft at your side.

When your lips break from Yunho, settling back down your heels after pushing up on tiptoe, Mingi uses his grip on you to spin you to face him, his mouth finding yours with ease.

You hum pleasantly against his mouth, your hands gripping his broad shoulders for balance.

“Ours,” Mingi murmurs between kisses, and then his hands spread to your backside, maneuvering you up into his arms in one quick motion, “you’re ours,”

You wrap your legs around his middle and sink into the kiss, “I’m yours,”

“Fuck, I missed you,” He mumbles between kisses, nuzzling your cheek with his nose.

You nod against him, stealing one more kiss before you lean back, still perched comfortably with your legs around his waist. You smooth a hand over Mingi’s cheek and then reach for your other lover to bring him close, drawing him in by the hand until he’s nestled against both of your sides. Yunho’s hand reaches around to cup under your thigh and you settle your own hand on the back of Yunho’s neck, fingers stroking the shaggy bottom of his dark hair.

“This is nice,” Mingi smiles a little, eyes flicking between you and Yunho.

Yunho nods, his free hand settling on Mingi’s back.

“I can’t believe I convinced myself that we weren’t scent sympathetic,” You sigh a small, unfunny laugh, “this just feels so right,”

“Knowing it and knowing it are two different things,” Mingi says, emphasizing the word.

“I guess so,”

“And it’s not like all scent matches work out,” Yunho adds, “we still have to work at it,”

You nod, relaxing into their hold, “I want that,”

“We do too,” Mingi squeezes your thigh a little with his wide hand.

It’s funny how different it all feels now than months ago during your first panicked heat here, how settled you are with everything. You glance between them and ask the obvious, “When we go back to work, what are we this time?”

“Pack,” Mingi says easily and your head snaps to his, eyebrows high.

“Mingi,” You blink at him, surprised at his easy reference to such a permanent state of being. Scent matches and compatibility is one thing, but pack is something so much more. All of it flickers in your mind - claims, bonds, tying you together permanently.

“Someday,” Yunho interjects smoothly, giving you a soft, reassuring kiss to the head, “far in the future, if you’ll have us.”

“Someday,” The word slips out of you like an agreement, and despite all the fears shared with Wooyoung earlier, you do want them like that. You want to someday be able to give each other that.

“Then we’re pack,” Mingi lights up at your words, “officially, unofficially, I don’t care. You’re with us, we’re with you.”

Your body fills with warmth, but you can feel your heart rate picking up.

Yunho smiles, “What did they used to call that back in the day?”

“Courting,” You fill in the blank for him, and the word feels strangely old fashioned considering the fact that you’ve already spent a heat with them. When packs were more common, groups of alphas would court compatible omegas until it was sure they were a good match in more ways than just scent. The implication then was something more akin to a modern engagement and you can’t believe after everything you’ve been through with these two men, this is the conversation you’re having suddenly so casually in their kitchen.

“Well,” Yunho laughs, “we don’t have to call it that,”

“We’re,” You trail off, trying to find the words, “dating?”

“Partners?” Yunho offers a slightly less casual word.

“Together,” Mingi cuts in, “that’s what we are. We’re your alphas, we belong to you, and you,” he draws you closer in his arms to press a soft kiss on your lips, “are our omega.”

“And at work?” You trail off.

“We’ll be ourselves,” Yunho suggests, “people probably already know after last week anyways,”

Mingi nods, dipping forward and pressing a kiss to your lips, “No more pretending we don’t mean something to each other,”

“No more pretending,” You shift in his arms, wrapping your arms properly around his shoulders so that you’re hugging each other tightly.

Mingi hums appreciatively, his breath warm against your hair and then he chuckles a little as he readjusts you in his arms, “Is it too fast if I start calling you yeobo, though? I feel like it suits you,”

You pull back from the hug, “We’re not married, Mingi,” you remind him, “and I didn’t hear a proposal,”

“You want to get proposed to, baby?” He teases and you shove his chest.

“Knock it off,” Yunho smacks the back of Mingi’s head, “our relationship doesn’t have to break the sound barrier,”

“I’m kidding,” Mingi squeezes you, shifting to take a few steps and deposit you on the kitchen counter before stepping back with a quick peck on your lips.

“Hmm,” Yunho rolls his eyes and slumps back against the counter next to you, one wide hand smoothing over your thigh, “we just got you back, I’d like to avoid scaring you off,”

“I’m not scared,” You shake your head, and as you say it, you realize it’s true. Six months ago you would have balked at Mingi’s veiled promise of his intentions, you would have told them all their hormones were mixed up and confused. You would have told yourself the same. It feels strange to feel completely at peace with the idea of a real someday with them.

Yunho’s eyebrow quirks up in a question at your words and Mingi grins, a little self satisfied.

“Actually,” You exhale heavily and straighten up, “I talked to Wooyoung yesterday and he helped me figure some things out,”

“Things?” Mingi asks.

“Um,” Your pounds in your chest, “yeah,”

Yunho gives you an encouraging squeeze to keep going.

You meet his eyes and take the leap, “Can you make that call? For me to talk with someone?”

He softens and nods, “I’ll do it first thing,”

“Okay,” You say, taking another deep breath, “then there’s one more thing to tell you,”

Mingi doesn’t say anything, but he steps back closer to you, resting his hand on your opposite thigh.

“It’s my turn to ask you to be patient,” You give them both an anxious, close lipped smile.

“We’re listening,” Mingi soothes you.

“Okay,” You take both their hands in yours, “here goes. The idea of bonding with you both is kind of sending me into a tailspin right now, and I’m terrified that it’s something I’m never going to get over. Wooyoung told me to talk to someone to work through that and I want to. I thought about it all day, and the truth is that I want to be with you both for as long as you’ll have me. You feel like you’re mine, now more than ever, and I’m scared, but I’m also scared of not trying,”

“And if I can be yours like this for now,” You continue, “without bonds like you said, pack even if it’s unofficial, then maybe I can work through this and make it official someday. I’m just scared your definition of ‘far in the future’ and my definition are different though, and I,”

“Fuck bonds,” Mingi interrupts, moving to cup both your cheeks and draw your eyes to his, “that shit doesn’t matter to me at all. We’re together by choice, not by claim. If you want my bite someday, I’ll give it to you, but you won’t ever hear me ask, alright? Never.”

“Me too,” Yunho’s hand brushes down your hair, coming to rest on the back of your neck, “as far as I’m concerned it’s secondary, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’d sooner leave you than push you into a bond you aren’t ready for,”

You jolt forwards, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and nearly slipping off the counter when you do, but they hold you steady as you pull them in.

“We just want you,” Mingi’s rough, low voice murmurs, “just this.”

You feel their warmth, the steady thrum of each of their heartbeats, their scents curling around you like a safe, easy memory. The words find themselves right on the tip of your tongue again, only this time, this time they come.

“I love you,” You take in a sharp, emotional breath as you get yourself together, overwhelmed by their words, “I love you both so much,”

Yunho dips back to find your mouth, locking his lips on yours and sighing a breath of true relief against your mouth, “I love you too, sweetheart,”

Mingi redirects your gaze with his fingers on your jaw the moment Yunho starts to lean back and he kisses you hard, leaving you gripping his shirt for balance, “I love you,”

“God,” You smile, every part of your body alight with joy, “I think we might be crazy, but I don’t care,”

“Good,” Yunho glances between you both, “because I think I’m having a crazy idea,”

“What idea?”

“Move in,” He blurts out, and he can’t stop smiling, “fuck giving you a key, fuck calling you our girlfriend. Move in properly, be ours. If we’re together, let’s be together, we’ve lost enough time,”

“Who’s moving fast now?” Mingi says, but he’s smiling too.

Everything in your body feels right, feels safe. You’ve been calling this home for days, and you’ve been calling them yours in your head for so much longer.

You’re nodding before your mouth can catch up with your brain, “Okay, okay, yes, let’s do it,”

Yunho pulls you up into his arms and holds you close, peppering kisses across your temple, “We’ll figure everything else out later, but at least we’ll be together,”

“Thank God,” You melt into his embrace, meeting Mingi’s eyes over Yunho’s shoulder, “because I really didn’t want to leave,”

“No leaving this time,” Mingi smiles softly as Yunho nods his head against yours.

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head, agreeing with his words.

“We’ll get everything from your place as soon as we can, make it official,” Mingi adds.

You nod, and then a thought occurs to you, “Is there even enough room for me here?”

Yunho unwraps himself from around you and nods, “We’ll need a bigger bed,”

“For a start,” Mingi nods, “and you need a nest,”

“Yeah?” Your very own nest, a real one.

“Oh, babe,” Mingi finds your hand, tugging you in, “you’re about to get fucking spoiled, anything you want, we’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to, I just want to be here,” You tell them.

“Doesn’t matter,” Yunho says, “we’ve waited for you for so long,”

“Too long,” Mingi wraps his arms around you both, “way too long,”

It doesn’t matter anymore what pushed you into their arms, what kind of day you’ve had, everything you’ve had to get through. Not a thing in the world matters but this choice, the safe home of their arms, three of you against the world like it was always meant to be.

#this night together fic #honeyhotteoks fics #honeyhotteoks updates #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez series #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yungi x reader #yunho fic #yunho ff #mingi fic #mingi ff #yungi fic #yungi ff #yungi series

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sophiethewitch1 · 5 months

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 2 - First (Second) Introductions

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Tim Drake was an obsessive creature by nature. Ever since he was little, he’d always been easily swallowed by his obsessions. His wants and desires, the little things that fascinated him. And, more than that, he never fought it. He gave himself into it, wholly. It was how he’d gotten this far in life.

He’d taught himself how to code, how to hack. He discovered Batman and Nightwing’s true identities. He’d learnt how to fight, how to keep the city safe, how to fling oneself off a building without fainting. He’s taped the family back together again and again after every splinter. He was one of only two Robins left, and that would soon be the only once Bruce retired and Damian graduated.

And this was all done through obsession. And it was obsession. He was self-aware enough to know that. While the rest of the family often indulged in delusions, he never had the time for them. He’d spent countless nights pushing his lagging body along with caffeine and sheer willpower. He’d often forget to sleep or eat even on the calmer days. All that was to say, Tim Drake was obsessive.

But, his obsessions never lasted. Sure, he’d keep the skills and the relationships he’d make, but when the dust settled, he’d find himself feeling empty. Tim Drake was obsessive yes, but his true obsession was the conquest. The rush he’d get when he finally claimed a new skill, a new person, a new piece of knowledge or wisdom.

And then, too quickly, far too quickly, the rush would disappear. The tingle in his spine would leave, the energy would disappear, and that feverish nature of his would flatten. Cool down. The others in the family knew it as one of his ‘moods’, but Tim thought it was probably more than that. Still, he was definitely in one of them right now.

It didn’t matter. None of it really mattered. The point was, right now, he was quite simply depressed. Bummed out, if you would. He’d finished a mission from Bruce, one that had taken him months of desperate, undying effort, and it was now done. And he didn’t have anything to do.

It sucked.

Boredom was a sinister demon. While Tim was by far the most emotionally stable of the family, he was still, well- not. Not by a long shot, honestly. The League’s mandatory therapy sessions had confirmed that. He just needed something to entertain himself, and quick. Usually, on a day like this, he’d be at home working on any random degree.

Unfortunately, he had responsibilities. He could not alleviate his boredom, because he was in the most boring place on earth.

A party. Not a party by any normal person’s standards, but one of his adoptive father’s galas. Even more horrifying, Bruce Wayne was in attendance. He was doing his billionaire playboy persona, and Tim couldn’t stomach it. It was no shock no one else had shown up. Even Dick was busy in Bludhaven, and he sometimes enjoyed these. Sometimes.

And once again, as every year, the birthday girl was nowhere to be seen.

Tim’s eyes rove over the very boring gala. Your gala, for your birthday. You weren’t here, because you never were. He couldn’t blame you. These balls sucked, even the better ones. This one was miserable, and the atmosphere was sombre. While it was your birthday, it was more than that, a day of death.

Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.

And Jason. Jason, who now walked the earth again, flesh and blood. Jason, who tore himself through a wooden coffin and grave dirt. Jason, who even Dick couldn’t seem to bring back into the family. Jason, alive and well and probably spending the night at Roy’s house. It was still the anniversary of his death, and while Jason did his best to put on a front, anyone with half a brain could tell he found today… upsetting.

But, he was alive. That was more than Tim could say for your family.

None of these people knew that. They saw one of the great Wayne’s dead, and they mourned. They saw the new wife and step-children of Bruce Wayne dead, and they lamented. Tim was sure most of it was faked, at least in this gala. The rest of the city truly grieved the Wayne family's tragedy. Especially Jason, one of the princes of the city. But here? No, they just wanted to rub shoulders with Bruce.

The man you very clearly insisted had never been your father, and never would be, was… probably a little sad. Tim was probably a little sadistically pleased about that. He was bored, alright? Anyway, Bruce did not know how to deal with you, and you with him. Both of you were stubborn people, unable to communicate or reach a place of cooperation. You never showed up to the galas or the manor, you did everything in your power to never have to interact with anyone from the family. The only reason you even still lived in Gotham was to be close to your dead family. And above all, you made sure that everyone knew how much you hated Bruce. That the sight of his aging face made you nauseous. Everyone else found that hilarious, of course.

And Bruce, because he was stubborn, kept trying to reach you, despite your angry protests. Even if he had absolutely zero legal ties to you, he still kept trying. And so, another birthday party passes without its leading star. The memorial tomorrow would be missing you too. Christmas, easter, hanukkah, new years, Rosh Hashanah, you refused to show up to any of them.

Still, he had to agree with Bruce. They couldn’t just leave you. Not with the way you were.

You’d once quietly admitted to him that you hoped you’d one day go to sleep and not wake up. That you’d rot away in your room, disappear from the world entirely. That was one of the last few times he talked to you face-to-face. And then a few months after that, you’d blocked him on all social media.

He’d read hundreds of books on therapy, and he knew what suicidal idealisation looked like. Luckily for his sanity, he was not your therapist, nor was he your keeper.

That was poor old Dick’s job, and he was, hilariously, failing at it. Badly. Technically, you were the second massive failure Dick had taken on, and it was starting to show in his mental state. Old Dickie was spending more and more time in Bludhaven, preferring to patrol there instead of Gotham. Still, he insisted he could get through to you. Tim was doubtful. Dick had better luck with Jason, of all people.

Jason actually wanted to be a part of this family. You hated them all, viciously. And so, you’d obviously never show up at-

Wait. Wait, no. He definitely recognised that face. Why the hell were you here? Well, that was irritating. Tim prided himself on being prepared for any situation, for any unlikelihood. He was the son who would be taking over Wayne Enterprises, after all.

You being in the same room as Bruce Wayne was impossible. Completely impossible. At least willingly. You should be kicking and screaming, scratching like a hellcat at anyone who tried to make you stay. Instead, you’re standing in the middle of a crowd, chugging back champagne like your life depends on it. He could already imagine the chaos the media would be starting, to his misery. ‘Estranged ex-Wayne shows up at birthday gala and drinks like a fish’. Well, he had been complaining about being bored. Careful what you wish for, and all.

Shit. He was not prepared for this.

He was, despite it being your birthday, not at all expecting you to be here. He didn’t even have a present. Shit. He pulls out his phone and shoots off an order to his assistant, who would probably go to Dick’s for help.

He sees you over there, obviously uncomfortable, and realises he should probably rescue you. He tells himself he should, that he’s gonna get up and go do it.

Instead, he crosses his legs at the ankle, leans back in his chair, and watches. You won’t catch him off guard twice. He has his pride, after all.

You throw another glass of champagne back. Tim winces. Okay, maybe you might. This was all a bit of a shock. And the rest of the gala seemed just as surprised at your appearance as he was. They obviously didn’t know what to do about you, creating a wide ring of people who refused to step closer to you. And you seem oblivious to the social pariah you have suddenly become. Or maybe uncaring, as you’ve already claimed an entire buffet table and champagne tray for yourself.

Just… just drinking. You seem to only care about ingesting more alcohol and confectionaries. It’s your twenty-first, but uh… this definitely doesn’t look like the first time you’ve been drinking. Not that he cared if this was your first time drinking. He’d done his fair share of illegal activities. Sure, they were mostly superhero stuff, but still illegal. Frankly, it’s kind of impressive. You might even be able to drink Jason or Alfred under the table.

…Good for you, he guesses. A talent’s a talent.

He realises, after a few minutes, that you have absolutely zero plans of socialising. You’d showed up here of your own free will, and then just scared off anyone who’d talk to you. Not that there’d be many who’d be interested in talking to the swaying woman who looked like a threat to herself and everyone around her. No, you were still just drinking. You’d gotten halfway down the buffet table, trying every single cake and a few of the savoury items as well.

You kept circling back to have more champagne and Victorian sponge, and then you’d go back to wherever you were in the buffet and try something from there. Your choices seemed sporadic, and more than once you spat something back out into a napkin. You look at some of the dishes like you think they might be poisonous, taking wide circles around them.

He rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward to press his face to his intertwined fingers. He’s definitely past the point where he should go help you. You’re making a mess, both physically and socially, and yet, he still just sits there. He can’t help himself, it’s interesting.

“Tim.”

Uh oh, your knight in shining armor is here. Or well, dark. Bruce had never been known for pastels. Tim turns his head to the giant man blocking out the light, giving his father and leader a smile.

“Hey Dad,” he greets, in an open attempt at manipulation.

Bruce shakes his head, not caving begrudgingly like he usually did. Shit, that usually worked. Guess he must be actually mad. He glances from Tim to the object of Tim’s apt fascination. You. He turns back, looking down at Tim with his ‘I’m trying to be a good dad’ look. It’s not very convincing.

“How long has she been doing this?” Bruce asks, straight to the point as always.

“Twenty-seven minutes. You’re ruining my process,” Tim replies, telling B to screw off in the kindest way possible. He doesn’t take the hint, because he’s a bit of an ass. Even Batman fanboy Tim could recognise that.

“You can’t just count when someone is getting drunk in front of the public. You need to actually do something.” Bruce shakes his head, hand lifting to massage his brow. It was just that easy to give the old man a migraine. Poor baby probably needed some Ibruprofen. Tim had some in his pocket, but he wasn’t going to offer.

“I was going to eventually. And aren’t you curious? She refuses to show her face for months, and then pops out of the blue to… what? Steal from your liquor cabinet? She knows she doesn’t have to come to get whatever she wants,” Tim ignores B’s nagging, turning his gaze back to you. You’re having a love affair with that cake, honestly. Oh, you’re going for another shot… You do realise the stuff you’re chugging goes for millions, right?

You probably don’t care. You never had about money.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s here, and we should be taking care of her. This is obviously her reaching out for help, and she obviously needs it,” B insists, splaying his worn and scarred hands over the table. Tim has the same hands, everyone in the family does. Vigilante work left scars and callouses.

“Then why hasn’t she come over here, yet? My theory is she’s just trying to smear your good image. Which doesn’t need smearing in the first place, but who understands the minds of young, drunk and miserable women?” Certainly not Tim, as he had proven in his relationship with Stephanie.

“Tim, enough with the sass. Go and help her.”

“She’s not your responsibility anymore, B.”

“Her mother would disagree. Now go,” Bruce orders, his words final. Because they always are, in the end.

Tim groans, letting his head fall back. He glares at the ceiling and all the sparkling diamonds strewn about, and then he pulls himself to his feet. Cracks his shoulders, and parts the Red Sea with a glance. The crowd in the gala splits so the young heir can easily find his way through, and he gives everyone he passes a kind smile.

He strides up to your side, calmly waiting for you to notice him. You’re still imbibing, completely oblivious to his presence. It’s funny. And fascinating. Usually, you were so paranoid that he wondered how you weren’t always a single breath away from a panic attack. Like a feral animal, ready at a moment’s notice to fight or flight.

He sees that you’re dealing with those social anxieties in a way befitting the Wayne name. Which is to say, absolutely shit. His head tilts eyes flickering over you. You don’t look too good, which is no real surprise. Even with your people’s perfect styling, they can’t cover up the shaking and sweating in your form. It might just be anxiety, but knowing you, it’s probably not. He wonders if you even notice how sick you are.

You don’t look like you notice much of anything. Maybe the cake, but that seemed to be pushing it.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” Tim starts but is unable to continue when you spin on your heel and drop your flute of champagne. It crashes to the ground, and he finds his socks becoming uncomfortably wet.

The two of you look up from the mess and meet gazes. Your mouth is open in horror, eyes comically wide. Tim has to bite the inside of his lip so as not to immediately burst into laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, you do a weird crouch-pop-up movement, and then your eyes swivel around frantically, “I’m- am I supposed to clean this up? I can totally clean this up.”

You look just about ready to kneel into a pile of thin glass shards, so Tim stops you. Because God knows Bruce would hang him from the rafters if he didn’t.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Somebody else will handle this. It’s your birthday after all, right?” he says, giving you a charming smile. It’s sort of a shock when you don’t scoff at him, and instead just stand there with a deer-in-headlights sort of look.

“Hey, are you alright?” Tim asks when you don’t say anything else.

You startle, and then blink at him rapidly. Distracted and inebriated. Lovely. He doesn’t think you know what you’re doing here either, which was a bad sign for your mental health. Have you been refusing to go to your therapist again?

It wasn’t like he went either, so he couldn’t judge.

“I’m good,” you say, your words only slightly slurred. You blink again, your head cants towards the floor, and then you glance back up at him. You look like he’s caught you committing a crime. “Do you- uh, want some of the cake? Sorry for stealing it all, it’s really good.”

You were acting… really strange. Tim found himself with the undeniable urge to follow along with your strangeness.

“You know what? Yes, yes I would,” he says, taking one of the little plates of strawberry cake and a delicate three-tonged fork. He scoops up some of the cake, the cream and jam, and eats. Chewing he keeps staring at you, as you fidget awkwardly. It’s good, but all the food here’s good.

“Did you like it?” you try to smile at him, but it looks more like a grimace.

“I did. Javier did really well with these desserts,” Tim says, before waving over one of the staff to clean up the mess the two of you are ignoring. You look surprised when he offers an arm to guide you away, and he wonders if you’ll accept it. He can’t imagine a world where you would, but today seems to be full of surprises. In the end, you do, but it takes you a good five seconds of awkward staring before you take it.

He takes you over to one of the tables, careful to make sure you don’t slip and fall face-first into the spreading champagne puddle.

“Oh. Is he the chef?”

“He’s the pâtissier.”

You give him a blank stare. Right, you probably don't speak French.

“The pastry chef,” Tim clarifies, as he helps you find your chair. You slump down with zero grace, and for a second Tim thinks you’ll fall right off. You manage not to with a desperate grasp at the table. Good for you.

“Oh, cool. That’s super cool. I think I love this Javier guy, honestly.”

Tim snorts, taking his own seat, “He has that effect on people.”

You’re not looking at him, instead grimacing at the mess you made that two of the staff are cleaning up. Tim’s sort of surprised. It wasn’t that you had been particularly mean to the employees before, but you rarely acknowledged them. You had barely acknowledged anyone, completely unaware of your effect on the greater world. You didn’t care. To be fair, it didn’t seem like you cared about anything but your family’s gravestones and memorials.

Still, there was definitely something different about you, today. And he couldn’t blame it all on the alcohol. Today, you looked a little green about the whole accident. Like you actually gave a shit. Maybe you’d had a change of heart. He hoped you had, for Dick’s sake. You looked more alive, even if it was a confused, embarrassed, uncomfortable sort of alive. It was still an improvement. Usually, your expression was dead, a blank stare. It reminded him of Jason’s as he’d been lowered into the ground.

The two of you wouldn’t like that comparison. And it’s hypocritical too, Tim knows he sometimes resembles a zombie after one of his little sessions.

He can’t help himself. He’s curious, so damn curious. What had prompted this miraculous shift? And plus, you could still be planning something, even if it was seeming more and more like you’d stumbled in here drunk and confused, not able to remember you hated them all. Maybe you had a concussion or something. A head wound sounded like a good explanation for all this.

“Why’d you show up here today?” he finally asks, caving quickly to his need to understand.

You give him a weird look like he’s the one being strange.

“It’s my birthday.”

Tim tilts his head. “That it is.”

“Was that- that the wrong answer?”

“I don’t know, was it?” Tim knows he should stop playing with you. You’re making it far too easy, though. And he's bored, damn it.

“I don’t know either. That’s… that’s why I’m asking you.”

Before he can react to the strangeness of that comment some (awfully rudely, might he add) intrude on your conversation. One of the board members of W.E., someone he had to pay the proper respect to. When his hand slaps down on Tim’s shoulder, he has to suppress a withering sigh. There were less fun parts to his job, and this was one of them

“Drake! It’s so good to see you,” the old man greets, and it takes even Tim a second to remember his name.

“Lancaster! You as well,” Tim replies, noticing your barely there flinch.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you tonight. My project’s funds are running a little low, and everyone knows you’re the one to go to for an easier time. Bruce is a great leader but…” the man chuckles, and Tim grins at him. It’s fake, of course. When in Rome, they say.

“A bit strict, yes. I have struggled with his attitude before, too.” Understatement of the century.

Tim glances at your quiet form, eyes set on the tablecloth in front of you. Even still it’s obvious you’re listening to their conversation, head cocked just slightly to the right. The board member doesn’t even seem to notice you. Tim’s curious if he recognises you.

You’d been out of the public eye for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. That’s the way you’d wanted it to be, after all.

“But let’s talk about this later, I’m entertaining a very tipsy birthday girl at the moment,” Tim says, hoping you don’t mind him using you as an excuse.

“Oh wow!” Lancaster cries, at your mere presence. Subtlety is not this man’s strength, “I didn’t see you there. Wow, jeez. Didn’t think you’d be here today. What made you change your mind?”

You give him a long, assessing look. Whatever you find makes you pull an expression like you sucked on a sour lemon.

“My assistant forced me to,” you answer honestly. Seems you’ve realised that ‘it’s your birthday’ isn’t an adequate reason. Not that you’ve never failed to reject any and all pressure to attend these events before. Like Tim had said, kicking and screaming.

“Ha! I know the feeling. Well, I’ll leave you two kids to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” the old man chortles, gives you a wink, and leaves. Your gaze follows him into the crowd, and stays there, even when he disappears behind it.

It’s quiet for a moment. Tim waits for you to speak first.

“Who was that man?” you finally ask.

“Charles Lancaster, one of the newest board members of Wayne Enterprises,” Tim says, surprised you’re curious. You’d never been interested in W.E. or anything involving the family. Surprised, surprised, surprised. He should just accept any odd behaviour from you at this point, start expecting it.

You slump in your chair, pressing your forehead against the table. Then, you let out a long, unhappy, groan. Tim gets it, he really does. He does not get what you do next.

Your hands slap against your cheeks, and Tim jerks in his seat. Okay, maybe Bruce was right, you probably do need help. He couldn’t imagine the big guy sending you to Arkham, though. It was obvious you were only a threat to yourself. You take a deep breath, completely ignore his confused stare and get to your feet.

And you immediately fall sideways.

Tim’s arm shoots out, grabbing yours before you crash into the shining marble floors. You look down at him, mirroring his shocked expression. You look down further down, and Tim follows your gaze.

Your stilettoed heel looks the same as it always does. Still, you stare at it like it’s a shark biting at your toes. Tim thinks this is one of the first real emotions you’ve shown in months, and it’s desperate fear of your shoes.

“I told her I can’t wear heels,” you say, more to yourself than him.

“What? Yes, you can. You wear heels to all these events,” he replies anyway.

“What- Well, I meant… heels this tall. They’re really tall.”

He just blinks at you, at the inanity of your statement. They were really tall, but Tim had seen you wear taller. Why were you lying about something like this? Had you drunk too much and were too embarrassed to mention it? Or maybe you’d hurt yourself?

He looks down at your ankle again. No, the flesh seems unharmed. And you hadn’t been walking with a limp earlier, you were just stumbling around now. Must really just be too much champagne. You’d already dropped a glass earlier and had been obviously embarrassed by it. Even if Jeanine had swept in just like she was supposed to, fixing the situation. You’d apologised profusely.

He’d never heard you apologise before. It’s… well, it’s strange. That’s the only way he can describe this encounter.

“You can let go of me now. Please?”

Tim lets you go, and you rub your arm. Shit, he grabbed you too hard. He knew you were on the delicate side, wasting away both mentally and physically. You didn’t take care of yourself and rarely even left your apartment. Even now you looked oddly sickly.

“I’m going to uh- I have to go pee,” you say, and immediately wince at your words.

Tim, without thinking, replies, “Go piss girl.”

You make a shocked choke of laughter, nod at him, and then run off as fast as you can while grasping every piece of furniture in your reach. You look genuinely ridiculous. Well, it’s not the first time a Wayne gala has turned into a clown show. Compared to Dick’s younger years, this was completely unnoticeable.

Bruce still loved to complain about the chandelier he’d broken in an impromptu trapeze show. It’d been diamond, and over a hundred years old. The ones above him now were just as expensive, but not vintage. Jason thought it was hilariously funny, and was always trying to get Dick to do it again. Luckily, Dick had matured, if only a little bit.

Speaking of which, this is a perfect opportunity to mess with Dick. He pulls out his phone and the secure channel they use to communicate. Dick was in Bludhaven right now, probably on patrol. Doing something fun. Sure, tonight had gotten more interesting, but you’d just run off and with you his only entertainment. Tim was bitterly envious of Dick’s fun, and because of that, he had to make Dick just a little more miserable. Just to make things even, of course.

‘Smartest_Robin’: guess who just showed up to her own birthday party?

‘Underwear_guy’: you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. why?

‘Smartest_Robin’: hell if I know. she’s drunk as hell lmao

‘Underwear_guy’: please don’t let her do anything stupid.

‘Smartest_Robin’: yeah, yeah. i’m the idiot who has to deal with the fallout anyway

‘Underwear_guy’: how’s it feel being the ‘favourite son’?

Tim snorts. The media often called him that, purely because it was well known he was the one inheriting W.E. It was hot gossip that it was Tim and not Damian, the proudly stated ‘blood son’. They didn’t know Damian was inheriting an even greater responsibility. And it wasn’t like he particularly wanted it, he just knew he was best for the job and it helped the time pass in between missions. It was fun sometimes, too. He enjoyed giving Luthor Corp a good thrashing every now and then.

‘Smartest_Robin’: same as always. im bored, anything interesting going on over there?

‘Underwear_guy’: bludhaven’s my city, dickhead. go do taxes or something

Tim sighs, and puts the phone back down. He had to try, at least. When it becomes obvious you are absolutely not returning from the bathrooms anytime soon, he gets up, adjusts his cuffs, and walks back off into the fray.

He greets and shakes hands, he takes photos and makes deals. It’s all a blur, really. He does it with half his attention, the other focused entirely on you. Amidst all this pomp and splendour an intriguing new mystery has been born. A puzzle to hold his attention, just for long enough till he gets to the next one. And your sudden shift in personality is more than enough. And if he focused on that, he could get through all this politics.

He’s talking up a chairman of a rival company when the lights go out. When the windows shatter inwards, his heart starts to race. And when familiar masked thugs break in through the wide open doors, guns up and ready, he’s already prepared for the fight. People start screaming, scrambling, and even more gunmen follow through the side exits. While guards raise their own firearms, everybody knows they’re completely outnumbered.

The Joker’s here, and he’s brought his army. Well, shit, all this excitement, and Tim left his suit upstairs. Guess he’ll have to improvise.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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asahicore · 1 year

Text

how to get back at your ex - lhs (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis. When you catch your boyfriend of four years cheating on you on the day of your anniversary, your first reflex is to get black-out drunk by yourself at a bar near your place. There, you run into your colleague and close friend Heeseung, and together, you come up with a plan to get back at Sunghoon for what he did. But as you carry out your pranks with Heeseung, you realize that maybe, what they say about love is true - sometimes, it is right there in front of you, patiently waiting for you to recognize to it.

genre. f2l, coworkers au, mainly fluff and smut but also some angst, heeseung is crazy about reader and sunghoon is the asshole cheating ex

word count. 19.9k

a/n. you’re probably thinking why the hell is there a cat pic between the 2 heeseungs… just read further and it’ll make sense 😇 hello everyone and welcome back to another repost from my old blog bc i currently have no time to write something new.. maybe next week will be the first fic of the 100 kisses event! but no promises 🥰 anyways i really enjoyed going over this again so i hope y’all like it and as always pls lmk what u think ok bye love ya

Park Sunghoon, that fucking bastard. You were going to kill him. If your hangover didn’t kill you first, that is.

You wake up with a pounding head and an unquenchable thirst, groaning at the awful sensations you knew you wouldn’t be able to get rid of for the whole day. But worse than the dry mouth and the ringing in your ears, you had a broken heart, and to your disappointment, the alcohol hadn’t managed to glue it back together. If anything, it had only deepened the cracks and made you drown in self-pity. You felt terrible physically but you also felt sorry for yourself: what had made you think drinking four bottles of soju to yourself and probably double as many cans of beer would help you get over your asshole of a now ex-boyfriend Park Sunghoon?

You manage to sit up on your bed, eyes half-open from the bright sunlight that your thin curtains failed to keep from entering the room. You realize you’re completely naked, which doesn’t surprise you as you have a habit of completely undressing and collapsing in bed after a night out, never bothered enough to put on some pajamas or take your makeup off. Your room looks the same as always, but there’s a scent in your bed which you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s familiar, yet it feels odd, smelling it here. You turn your head towards your bedside table and notice a watch that clearly isn’t yours lying there. You pick it up and examine it more closely: you’ve definitely seen it before, but on who?

The small clockarms of the watch let you know it’s 7:46 a.m. - you have no time to give any more thought to who might be the owner of this watch. You scramble out of bed, not wanting to be any more late for work than you already are. As you wash your face and brush your teeth, you curse yourself for drinking yourself into oblivion on a Tuesday, of all nights. Now you were going to have to face the whole office with one of the worst hangovers you’d ever had in your seven years of legal drinking.

As you enter the office and walk to your desk, you feel your colleagues’ stares and pitiful looks. You check the time on your phone: you weren’t late, had somehow gotten lucky enough to arrive at 8:30 on the dot, so why were they looking at you like that? Was it the sunglasses? You’d worn them in hopes of hiding your tired, puffy eyes, but they were probably just making you more noticeable.

You sit down at your desk and hold your head in your hands for a few seconds, catching your breath from having run all the way from the bus stop to your office building, and mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead. When you raise your head, two of your colleagues are standing next to you, looking at you with sympathy in their eyes. Your eyebrows perk at the sight of them, and you’re wary of what they might be about to say.

One of them, Miyeon, sighs, and starts speaking first. “Y/N…” she sighs again. “We just wanted to let you know that we’re here for you. We’ve heard about… you know,” she says. You slowly nod and turn your head away from them. The realization that everyone knows about your breakup with Sunghoon hits you, and no matter how nice your coworkers are, right now, you just want to get as far away from them and their unwelcome pity as possible.

“What he did,” the other one, Yuqi, picks up, “is really terrible. You know how rumors travel fast here, and, well, we’ve all decided we wouldn’t talk to him unless it was work-related,” she says, and you try not to scoff. As if work wasn’t the only thing they talked to him about anyway. Still, you know it’s coming from a good place, so you muster a smile and thank them, saying you appreciate it. You hope they’re done and will leave, but they hover around your desk, so you turn your gaze back to them with a questioning look.

Miyeon puts her hand on your shoulder. “You know… this happened to me too, a few years back. I know how shit it feels, to have someone you love and you thought loved you cheat on you. If you ever need anything, I’m here,” she says, and you give her a small but genuine smile this time.

“Yeah, anything,” Yuqi chimes. “Whether you wanna talk about it, or get drunk,” and you try not to visibly cringe at the idea of alcohol, “or punch him, just call Miyeon or me. Or both of us. We’re menaces together,” she says, and the three of you laugh.

“Thanks, guys. I’m glad you’re here.”

As you watch them head back to their respective desks, you feel somebody else staring at you. When you meet eyes with Heeseung, his face perks up and he gives you a shy wave. You’ve known Heeseung for ages, having joined the company as interns and getting promoted to full-time employees at around the same time. You’ve seen that face and that smile almost everyday for the past four years now, yet today it feels different. He’s never waved shyly at you, as if he was excited yet embarrassed to see you. You don’t mean to frown at him, but you’re so confused about the sudden change in how you see him that you can’t help it. His hand drops and he awkwardly turns his gaze back to his computer. You keep staring at him, trying to recall something that might explain this shift in his behavior. It was fine yesterday at the office… Could it have happened after work?

You try to go through the events of the previous day one-by-one in your head. Wanting to prepare something special for your four-year anniversary with Sunghoon, you’d gotten off work a bit early, a skip in your step. But when you came face-to-face with him kissing another woman in one of the stairwells, you halted straight in your tracks. You’d just stared at each other for thirty seconds, one surprised they’d been caught, the other trying to figure out whether their eyes were deceiving them or not. Sure, your relationship with Sunghoon wasn’t always perfect, but you hadn’t thought it was so bad he’d need to go stuff his tongue down somebody’s else throat - and that at your shared workplace, too. It’s like he wasn’t even trying to hide it, like he wanted you to find out. The embarrassment and humiliation were almost worst than the pain and betrayal.

“Y/N…” he started, making you snap out of it and realize that yes, this was your boyfriend of four years you had just seen kissing another woman. You took a step back as he moved towards you, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Y/N,” he repeats, “I’m- Listen, this isn’t- Let me just explain-” he scrambled for an excuse, but nothing came out. There was no justification for this.

“Save it, Sunghoon,” you spat. “Whatever you have to say for yourself, I don’t wanna hear it.” You continued past him down the stairwell, ignoring his pleas for you to stay and hear him out.

“Y/N, please, just give me a minute to-”

“No, Sunghoon!” you almost screamed out, turning around to face him. “You can go fuck yourself.” You hadn’t let yourself cry in front of him, not wanting to appear more pitiful than you already felt. As soon as you got in your car, you burst into tears, gripping the steering wheel as you sobbed like a baby.

You shake your head at the fresh and painful memory, not wanting to dwell on it any further. You’ll probably feel like shit for the upcoming weeks or months, so you’ll have plenty of time to rehash the painful memory later on.

After that, everything is a bit of a blur. You remember managing to get yourself home without crashing your car despite your tear-induced fuzzy vision, then throwing your bag and coat somewhere on the floor and immediately opening a bottle of wine, gulping most of it down in a pathetically short amount of time. And that’s about it.

The overwhelming emotions you were feeling along with the fact that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch that day made the alcohol go straight to your head, and you were drunk very quickly. Foggy bits of your night flash in your mind: picking up your stuff and heading out, sitting at the counter at the nearby bar, chatting animatedly with someone else. The memories are hazy and nothing is coming back to you precisely, no matter how hard you try to focus.

You realize you had been frowning at Heeseung the whole time you were recalling the evening’s events. He looks up at you and returns your frown, seemingly upset at the look you were giving him. You suddenly see his face in your mind, except the Heeseung you picture then is different from the one you see everyday. He’s still in his work clothes, but the tie has been discarded and the top buttons have been opened. He’s smiling lopsidedly at you, as if he too has a few drinks in his system.

That’s when it hits you: you were with Heeseung yesterday night. Your frown turns into a suspicious gaze, which he imitates, tilting his head to the side as he peers at you. You text him to meet you in the break room in five, hoping he could fill in the blanks. You desperately needed a coffee anyway.

In the break room, you gulp down a bottle of water while you wait for the coffee to be ready. Heeseung struts in a minute later, a smirk you’ve never seen before on his face. He’s heading straight towards you, and your eyes widen when he doesn’t stop at an appropriate distance from you, just keeps walking until he’s towering over you. He’s definitely acting weird today.

“Miss me already?” he says as he leans in close to you, making the small of your back hit the counter behind you. The sudden proximity with your friend makes your eyes go even wider. He’d never been so close before and you could smell his cologne on him, an oddly familiar scent.

“W-what?” you stutter out. Registering your confused face, Heeseung takes a quick step back and starts fiddling with his thumbs, avoiding your gaze. His demeanor is a total 180 from the one just a second ago, and the change gives you whiplash.

“Sorry, I just- I thought since last night, you know, you would maybe want me to, I don’t know- I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me…” he trips over his words, still not looking at you. You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out, trying to make sense of the situation. You look down at his nervous hands and notice he’s not wearing the watch he usually has on everyday.

The watch, his scent, his strange awkward yet flirty behavior, the fact that you’d remembered seeing him last night… Everything is starting to piece together. You gesture between the two of you. “Last night… did we…?” you ask tentatively, hoping he’d get the message.

He looks up at you. “Do you not- do you not remember?” he says, disappointment in his voice.

You cover your mouth with both of your hands as you gasp in shock. How could you have hooked up with your friend and colleague of five years and not even remember it?

Heeseung’s head drops and he lets out a dejected scoff. “Guess you don’t.”

You take a step towards him as you raise your hands, trying to defend yourself. “No, no, I do, a little bit. It’s just all… very fuzzy,” you say, hoping it’ll make things a bit better. You clear your throat. “Could you, um, tell me what happened exactly last night? Might help me fill in the gaps.” You smile at him but he doesn’t return it; he just sighs.

“Sure,” he says, and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “You know Jake and Jay?” he asks, and you nod. You’d met Heeseung’s friends at a few parties he’d hosted. “Well, we were out drinking last night ‘cause Jay got promoted. When we got to this bar, I saw you drinking by yourself at the counter so I invited you to come and sit with us, and you said yes. You looked really upset, but you got so excited as soon as you saw us.”

A scene suddenly flashes in your mind. You were losing yourself in your thoughts as you sat alone at the bar, two empty bottles of soju in front of you. Your head that had been resting in your palm was about to slip and hit the counter when you felt a hand clasp your shoulder.

“Y/N!” a familiar voice shouted excitedly, and you turned your head to find Heeseung grinning at you. The sight of him brought an immediate smile to your face, and you got up to engulf him in a hug.

“Hey!” he called out again, and you said ‘hey’ back, your voice muffled from having your face buried in his neck. Had he always smelled this good?

You took a step back and greeted Jay and Jake, who waved back at you, smiling. “What are you doing here all alone?” Heeseung asked, and the alcohol stopped you from coming up with a lie.

“Sunghoon cheated on me,” you answered, pouting. Now that you weren’t sitting and didn’t have Heeseung to lean on, you were swaying a bit. The three boys looked between each other with shocked expressions on their faces, not expecting this to be the reason you were solo-drinking.

Jay and Jake looked at you with sad smiles, saying they were sorry you had to go through that. Heeseung, on the other hand, looked angry. A deep frown made his eyebrows crease as he shook his head. “What an asshole! He has no idea what he just lost,” he exclaimed. Then, putting his arm around you and leading you to another table, he added, “Let’s go, Y/N! Come and drink with us.”

You look at Heeseung standing in front of you in the break room and nod slowly. “Okay, I remember that. Then what?”

“Then we just talked and drank. Jay and Jake left around midnight, but we stayed until the bar closed. I don’t remember myself that well what we talked about, but we definitely talked about Sunghoon, that jerk.”

You cringe at the mention of your ex. “God,” you sigh, “I hope I didn’t cry or wallow or something embarrassing like that.”

“Nothing like that,” Heeseung says, a smile teasing his lips. “If anything, you were cursing his name. You told me about all the shit he did that annoyed you, like how he would always forget to buy the milk or how he got overly mad at you for putting the pots back in the wrong cupboard. You were absolutely enraged. And so was I, to be honest. Look,” he says, pulling out his phone, “we made a list of ways to get back at him.”

He hands you his phone, the Notes app open. You read it out loud.

“How to get back at Y/N’s ex, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Disclaimer: none of this can back-fire against Y/N, so they must be small things that will mess up his everyday life but can’t be traced back to her, i.e. no keying his car or TPing his place, as satisfying as those things would be.”

You let out a chuckle. “We really thought this through, didn’t we?”

Heeseung laughs as well. “Yeah, I’m not sure how we did that considering how drunk we were.”

You start reading the list, all of its boxes left unticked. “Go into his office and mess up his paperwork. Buy a bunch of keys on Amazon, write his phone number on them and lose them all over town. Change the labels on his shower products and hide his TV remote when Y/N hands him back his stuff. Make him regret what he did.”

You look up at Heeseung. “These are pretty good ideas, actually. He always needs everything to be super organized, so he would definitely freak out at some of these. And the keys one would just make anyone go insane,” you say with a chuckle.

Heeseung smiles at you. “I know we were drunk when we made this list, but I promised you I would help you get revenge on him. So, if you still want to do it, I’m down. I can’t lie, I really want to see him suffer the consequences for what he did.” You stare at Heeseung for a bit, grateful that he’s willing to help but perplexed as to why he would do it. What would he get from getting back at Sunghoon?

He watches as you stare at him, the left corner of his mouth lifting into a small smirk. The action is simple, but it makes your stomach flip. You blame it on the hangover.

“Let’s do it,” you say, trying to make the tension in the air dissipate. “Let’s make his life hell. For a short while at least. Just until I feel better.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, raising his eyebrows in an amused manner.

“Yeah.” You guys high-five, laughing at the childishness of your plan.

His eyes don’t leave yours for a second and you don't think Heeseung’s ever held eye contact with you for such a long time - the way it makes you feel is too unfamiliar and you have to look away. After a small pause, you timidly ask, “By the way, did we- last night, did we actually, you know…”

“We didn’t,” he says, making you look up at him. “We almost did, but we were both so drunk that we kinda just… fell asleep mid-way.” You slowly nod your head, memories slowly coming back to you for what feels like the hundredth time today. “We made out. Naked. But we didn’t actually have sex,” he finishes, finally averting his gaze from yours.

You remember kissing Heeseung in front of the bar and then running with him to your building, laughing like teenagers, and heatedly making out in the elevator all the way to your apartment, then to your bedroom. You remember bursting into fits of laughter every now and then, the both of you so drunk that you couldn’t take what you were doing seriously. Everything made you laugh: the lipstick stain on his lips because of you, your mismatched underwear, how either of you could barely walk straight and fell on top of each other on your bed. You remember falling asleep, your face buried in the crook of his neck, both of his arms protectively wrapped around your waist.

“How come you weren’t there when I woke up?” you suddenly ask, remembering your empty bed that morning.

“I woke up really early, but you were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you up. I would’ve left a note but I couldn’t find a pen anywhere, so I just… left. Sorry about that,” he apologizes, his hand coming up to the nape of his neck.

“That’s alright,” you say, but you couldn’t help wondering what it would’ve felt like to wake up next to Heeseung. Probably better than what you woke up to this morning, you think.

You’re about to say something when you hear the door open, and Heeseung’s piercing gaze towards the person who just entered tells who it is before you’d even seen him. You turn around to find Sunghoon staring right at you, his eyes already pleading with you.

“Y/N,” he starts, but you cut him off immediately.

“I’ve already told you I don’t want to hear it, Sunghoon. You can save your breath.”

“Can you at least let me apologize, please?” he asks. You look at him, and you’d be lying if you said this didn’t hurt like a thousand little papercuts. You hadn’t let yourself feel anything since last night, preemptively drowning your emotions in alcohol. Now that your ex stands in front of you, trying to apologize, his betrayal and the end of your relationship hits you like a ton of bricks. And it doesn’t feel very nice.

“Did you not hear her? She said she doesn’t wanna hear it,” Heeseung steps in, but you take his wrist, not wanting the two of them to get into a fight at the office. Heeseung and Sunghoon had never liked each other, your friend deeming Sunghoon wasn’t good enough for you, and your boyfriend judging Heeseung and you were too close for friends.

“It’s alright, Heeseung. Just go back to work, I’ll see you later.” He stares at Sunghoon for another second and turns to you, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with him. You mouth a ‘please’, and he reluctantly walks away. Before he can leave the room, though, he turns back around and says, “Oh, by the way, I think I left my watch at your place. Could you give it to me tomorrow?”

You pivot towards him with wide eyes, cursing him for mentioning it in front of Sunghoon, but he’s not even looking at you. He’s staring right at your ex-boyfriend, clearly having said this just to rile him up. You stutter out a ‘yes’ and Sunghoon starts towards him but you stop him before he can get to Heeseung. The latter finally leaves, a victorious smirk on his face.

Sunghoon’s eyes, who were apologetic just a minute ago, are now burning with anger. “What the hell, Y/N?! Is this your way of getting back at me or something? Getting into bed with the first guy who throws himself at you?”

You glare at Sunghoon, in absolute disbelief at his words. You want to scream, pull out his hair, kick him in the shins, but above all that, you want him to apologize - even though you have no intention of accepting his apology whatsoever. So you close your eyes, breathe out through your nose, and say, “I thought you were here to apologize, Sunghoon.” You open your eyes to see him still visibly angry but trying to stay calm like you. When he doesn’t say anything for a few moments, you add, “For your information, Heeseung and I did not have sex. And even if we did, you lost the right to get mad at me when you slept with somebody else while in a relationship with me. Just say you’re sorry, and leave me the hell alone.”

Sunghoon looks at you, appearing somewhat baffled by how calmly you’re taking things. You were usually sensitive and reacted emotionally and your serenity was throwing him off. He had always been the cool and collected one in your relationship, not you. He doesn’t like this sudden shift in your attitude, and he doesn’t like the fact that Heeseung thinks he can have you now. “You know what? I was going to apologize, because I know what I did was wrong, but I don’t want to anymore. I guess Heeseung was glad you were rid of me so he could finally fuck you, huh?” You flinched at his loud voice and prayed no one else could hear your conversation.

“I just told you we didn’t have sex!” you whisper-shout back. Thankfully, he takes on the same volume as you.

“Then why is his fucking watch at your place?”

“That’s none of your fucking business anymore!”

Sunghoon and you just stare at each other for a few moments, and you fight back the tears pooling in your eyes. You’ve cried a hundred times in front of Sunghoon, and you want him to feel bad for how much he hurt you, but for some reason, it feels like crying in front of him would be giving in. It would be saying, You wanted to hurt me and you did. You wanted me to hate you and now I do.

“Just leave, Sunghoon, please,” you say, voice weak. It takes all you have not to fall to your knees and bawl your eyes out in this break room. Sunghoon calls out your name, and his voice is much softer than it was seconds ago, as if he finally realised just how much he’d fucked up.

You look up at him and a single tear rolls down your cheek. “Please, Sunghoon. Leave.” He opens his mouth and closes it again twice, lost as to what to say anymore. Finally, he just leaves silently, and you’re immensely disappointed but not in the least surprised. You’d always fought for your relationship, fixed things when they had gone wrong, apologized first after a fight even when it wasn’t your fault, and Sunghoonhad never returned your commitment more than half-heartedly. You’d foolishly hoped that maybe, this time, after such a big mess, he’d want to make things better.

You watch him walk away, taking a moment to gather yourself in the break room. When you finally muster the courage to leave the room and go back to your desk, you almost walk past Heeseung who had been waiting right outside the room this entire time. A worried look in his eyes, he asks if you’re okay.

“Let’s ruin this asshole’s life,” you say, and Heeseung grins at you.

—

That day at lunch, you and Heeseung start scheming. Hunched over your pasta salad, you discuss the first step of your evil plan, namely, ‘go into his office and mess up his paperwork.’

“Easy. We sneak in there when everybody’s left, and we fuck his shit up,” Heeseung says, stealing some of your lunch.

“What if somebody is working late?” you ask, nudging his fork away with your own.

“Well we’re not gonna barge in there. We’ll check that the room is empty.”

You hum. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Heeseung looks up at you, registering your hesitant expression. “What? Already deflating?” he asks, a grin on his face. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be harmless fun… mainly.”

You meet his eyes and let yourself be convinced again. You lean in a bit closer, and he mirrors your action. “If we do this, we have to be subtle about it. We can’t just throw his papers all over the place, that’ll be too obvious and he’ll probably figure out I did it.” Heeseung nods his head, urging you to go on. “We need to put some files in the wrong folders, hide his color-coded post-its, exchange the lids on his pens, that kind of stuff. It’ll make him go crazy.” You bite down on your lip, trying to suppress your excited grin, but you can’t help it. All these years, you’d been subjected to Sunghoon’s obsession with having things neat and in order, no matter how tedious it was. The idea of him freaking out over a stapler in the bottom drawer instead of the top one brings a smile to your face, even though you know how petty such a prank was.

Some colleagues join you at the table, and you spend the rest of lunch chatting about work and making small talk. All throughout the afternoon, Heeseung and you exchange sneaky glances and giggle at the eye contact, both filled with childish excitement for your evening plans.

Eventually, your colleagues start trickling out, and by 7 p.m., only you and Heeseung are left. He joins you at your desk and tries to distract you from your work for half an hour, making stupid jokes and pointing at non-existent faults in your files. You think he must be starting to be bored out of his mind when he starts humming to ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’, so you pack away your stuff, shut your computer and announce it is time for the prank. He jumps up from his seat with a huge grin, shouting out, ‘Let’s go!’ before marching out of the office. You watch him go with an endeared smile, shaking your head at his antics.

You walk side by side towards Sunghoon’s office, looking around to make sure you don’t walk past anyone on your way there. The whole floor seems to be empty, and you get there without being noticed. You enter his office, the both of you tip-toeing to Sunghoon’s desk for dramatic effect, but quickly burst into a fit of giggles when you realize how stupid you must look. Lucky for you, everybody’s already left: every seat is empty and the lights are off, the whole office basking in the glow of the moon.

Heeseung lets out a low whistle upon seeing Sunghoon’s desk. As you’d described, it is very neatly arranged, to a point that it seems almost obsessive. Every load of paper is stacked so perfectly into place that if you peered at it from above it would look like there was only one sheet of paper, each pencil has been freshly sharpened, and he’s got three to-do lists (a daily one, a weekly one and a monthly one) on color-coded post-its. There isn’t a thing out of place.

“God, was he as much of a control freak in your relationship as he is at work?” Heeseung muses, peering in horror at your ex’s desk.

You can’t help but laugh at the comment, even though the truth behind it almost makes you wince. “Yeah, he kinda was. He would decide on every little thing we did, whether it was what we ate that night or how I should organize the cutlery drawer in my apartment.”

Without missing a beat, he deadpans, “How could he. Everyone knows you should never mess with someone’s cutlery drawer.”

You look at each other for a second, and you weren’t sure whether he was being serious or not; but when you see a small smile appearing on his face, the both of you dissolve into laughter at his stupid joke. Maybe the adrenaline of what you’re doing is also part of the reason why it takes you a few moments to calm down, but when you do, it hits you that you haven't laughed so much in a long time. Heeseung and you have been good friends for a while, and you’ve always known he was funny; but spending more time with him makes you realize just how giggly he makes you.

The realization fills your heart with warmth but you don’t want him to notice the growing blush on your cheeks, so you turn towards the desk, pretending to analyze its contents some more. You take a long look at it and decide where you should start.

You pick up the sheet of paper at the top of the neat stack on the desk and place it randomly somewhere in the pile. Heeseung snorts at the seemingly insignificant action and you can’t help but think it’s ridiculous as well, but you know it’ll strike a nerve in Sunghoon.

He joins you closer to the desk and starts picking up random objects only to move them by an inch or placing them in one of the drawers. You do all the things you said you would: exchange the pen lids so that he’d take a red pen thinking it was a black one, stick his post-its underneath the desk like schoolkids do with used chewing-gums, and slightly mess up his files. Neither of you can stop laughing at how ridiculous you’re both being; you thought you had this great idea for a prank, but here you are, hiding a pencil sharpener. When Heeseung simply flips over Sunghoon’s pencils so that they are eraser-up rather than tip-up, you hit your limit of stupid things you could do. You burst out laughing, bent over and clutching your stomach. Heeseung can’t help but follow you in your laughter, loving how much you’re enjoying this prank.

You’re barely catching your breath when you see the light from a flashlight appear at the door and you hurriedly grab Heeseung’s wrists, bringing him down with you to hide underneath the desk. You hear footsteps approaching, soon followed by a booming voice: “Hello? Is anyone here?”

It’s the security guard - either he’s doing his regular night rounds, or he’s heard the ruckus you and Heeseung are causing. You hear him mutter something under his breath, but quickly enough, he walks away. When you hear the door close behind him, you release a breath you’d been holding for way too long, and the feeling of your nervousness dissipating all at once makes you let out a laugh. You meet Heeseung’s eyes only to find him staring back at you with wide eyes, and that’s when the reality of the position you’re currently in hits you.

You’ve still got a tight grasp on his wrists and you’re holding them up to your chest, so that the two of you are sitting face-to-face, crammed close together under the desk. You realize just how close he is when he releases a shaky breath and you can feel it fan on your lips. Your heart starts to pound at the proximity, and with how close he is you’re scared he might hear it. His eyes drift down to your lips and you feel panic bubbling inside of you: what if he actually tried to kiss you?

You hastily release his wrists and try to get up from under the desk, but you’re so distraught that your head hits it, making you yelp out in pain.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Heeseung asks, emergency in his tone, and he immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders to stabilize you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, it was just a small whack,” you say, even though you feel a bit dizzy, which you prefer to think is because you hit your head rather than because of Heeseung’s gaze mere moments ago.

“That sounded like more than a small whack. C’mon, let’s go get something cold for that, you’ll get a bump on your head otherwise.” He gets up and extends his hand out to you to help you do the same, and you stupidly stare at it for a few seconds before finally taking it. He guides you to the elevator, and there he lets go of your hand to put an arm around you. You don’t have the heart to tell him you can stand up on your own. You garner a few weird looks from the security staff as you leave the office building, but ignore them and hurriedly walk to the convenience store across the street.

“Sit down here, I’ll go get something for your head.” He sits you down on the little stairs in front of the store and puts his jacket over your shoulders, heading inside before you can protest. He’s back in less than five minutes, a pack of frozen peas and two ice cream cones in his hand.

“I saw these next to the peas and I couldn’t help myself,” he says with a sheepish smile. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

He was holding up the two cones in front of his face, waiting for you to choose. Your heart skips a beat at the simple but sweet gesture; when buying food, Sunghoon would never ask for your preferences, assuming you’d want the same as him.

You take the frozen peas and the vanilla ice cream, thanking him in a small voice. The cold of the peas immediately appeases the pain and the ice cream tastes sweeter than usual. The two of you sit in silence for a while, occasionally humming and swinging in rhythm to the music playing in the convenience store. In this moment, you feel oddly peaceful.

From your side view, you notice Heeseung turning his head to look at you. You mirror his action and find an amused glint in his eyes. “Are you satisfied with our work?” he asks.

You look ahead of you, thinking for a small moment. The adrenaline of doing the prank has worn off, and you try to see how you feel now that it’s over. “Yeah. I think I am,” you say, turning to look at him again. You’re no stranger to Heeseung’s features: you’ve seen him almost everyday for the past four years of your life. When you close your eyes, you can easily picture his face, his eyes, his smile in your mind. Not that you’ve made particular notes of his habits, but you know how his eyes crease at the corners when he laughs really hard and how he seems to unconsciously raise one of his eyebrows when he talks about something he’s interested in.

But tonight, he looks different. You don’t know if it’s because of the way he’s looking at you or if it’s how the LED lights of the store sign are hitting him perfectly, making him look like he comes straight from a rom-com, but somehow, right now, you’re not looking at your colleague Heeseung. You’re looking at your friend Heeseung, the one who agreed to help you get revenge on your ex, the one who got you a pack of frozen peas for your insignificant injury, the one who shivered at your touch and looked at your lips not fifteen minutes ago. You find yourself wondering what it would’ve been like if he’d actually leaned in to kiss you. Would his lips be as soft as they look?

You shake your head, trying to rid your mind of such thoughts: your break-up was not even a week ago and you were in no state to get back into a relationship so quickly. It wouldn’t end well for either of you. So you turned away from him, escaping his gaze that made you feel too many things you didn’t have the strength to understand.

Heeseung nudges your shoulder with his. “I hope it makes you feel better knowing that he’ll get to the office with an unorganized desk tomorrow morning.”

You chuckle, but the mention of Sunghoon still makes your heart sting. Nothing you do will ever be enough to hurt him like he hurt you, but you don’t see much point trying to do that, anyway. Making his life a bit worse for a while will have to do. “It does,” you simply say, not wanting to dive into complicated emotional territory. You were thankful enough that Heeseung had helped you out tonight, you didn’t want to put your baggage on his shoulders as well.

When you’re both done with your ice creams and your head feels better, you decide to call it a night and head to the building parking lot together. Your cars aren’t parked on the same level, but Heeseung insists on walking you to yours first. You hug him goodbye, and you intend it to be a short hug, but he snakes his arms around your waist, bringing you close to him. You’re a bit taken aback at first, but his scent is comforting and you wrap your arms around his neck, grateful for the warm hug.

“Thanks for tonight, Heeseung. Really,” you say, voice a bit muffled from having your face buried in his shoulder.

“Of course, Y/N, anytime.” You don’t really want to pull away, but you also don’t want things to get awkward if the hug lasts too long, so you lean back, hiding your disappointment at the loss of warmth. You fumble around your bag for your keys and hold them up with an embarrassed chuckle when you finally find them. Heeseung is looking at you with a sweet smile and you curse your damn heart for pounding so foolishly, body and brain at odds with each other. With a last quick ‘bye’, you get into your car, wave him goodbye, and drive away, releasing a shaky breath.

You see Heeseung in your rearview mirror, hands in his pockets, looking at his feet as he kicks a pebble on the ground, and you think you even see a grin on his face.

You smile the whole way home.

—

Heeseung pours himself a cold, well-deserved beer as soon as he gets home. He flops down on an armchair in his living room, not even bothering to turn the lights on; the faint glow of the streetlights outside will have to suffice. He unbuttons the top of his shirt and undoes his belt, getting himself more comfortable.

You haven’t been off his mind for a second since you parted ways half an hour ago. To be fair, you haven’t been off his mind much since you too met way back when. He can still picture you, four years ago, as a fellow fresh intern, your curious eyes and polite manners he’d found so endearing. The both of you were often tasked to work on projects together, and he’d admired your drive, hard work and attention to detail since the beginning. But then he’d started to notice other things than your professionalism, like how you’d frown when you really liked the food you were eating or how your lips would form a straight line when you tried to not laugh at his stupid jokes. He’d quickly started to make those jokes just in hopes of seeing your cute attempt at hiding a smile or, even better, hearing your laugh. He’d ignored the swelling in his heart and the sweat in his palms every time he saw you as long as he could, until he realized he shouldn’t have ignored them. He’d convinced himself he wasn’t jealous of the way your whole face perked up whenever Sunghoon entered the room, but when you told him you were officially dating that asshole, and how completely smitten with him you looked, he couldn’t deny it anymore. Heeseung had the stupidest, fattest, most unachievable crush on you.

He’d had to see you experience your highest highs and your lowest lows with Sunghoon, even though he knew you always tried to keep your relationship problems at home and not bring them in the office. He’d tried to be as good a friend as he could, never letting onto his feelings for you. If he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, he’d settle for being what you wanted him to be.

When he found out what Sunghoon had done, he was angry beyond words. He wanted to punch that jerk, but more than that, he wanted to make you feel better. So that night, he let you drink as much as you needed, he made you laugh as hard as he could, he agreed to your revenge plan, and when, outside of the bar, you drunkenly pressed your lips to his, he let you. He let you take him home, and take off his shirt, and he’d be lying if he said he was only doing it for you; he has dreamt of your hands on him for the longest time now, but he didn’t want for it to happen like this. So he easily got you to stop and fall asleep before you could do anything you’d regret the next morning.

When he woke up next to you, he felt his heart longing for something that is so close and yet so far out of reach. He softly tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, making you whimper in your sleep, and it took everything in him not to hold you in his arms as hard as he could right there and then. But he didn’t want to wake you up, and he didn’t think he wanted to be there when you woke up either; he wouldn't know what to say, how to explain his presence. He wanted a few hours to think and talk to you in the office later.

We all know what happened after that.

Now, he doesn’t know whether he’s inching towards his goal or he’s fucked everything up. He can tell you’re behaving differently around him; he’s noted everything about you, so of course he’d notice as soon as something changes with you. He hoped it wasn't creepy that he complimented your haircuts every time you got one without you telling him first.

He thought everything between you might have been ruined when you banged your head on the desk in shock when he looked at your lips, but your little moment in front of the convenience store and in the parking lot made him hopeful that your friendship might shift into something more. He knows you’ve too recently broken up with Sunghoon to be ready for a new relationship, and he’s waited four years, so he can wait a few months more; but he also wants to make sure you won’t go anywhere else now that he has a chance. He doesn’t think he could forgive himself if he let you go again.

—

The next day at work, you hear gossip going around the office about an apparent ‘tantrum’ that Sunghoon threw upon arriving at his desk. He was going on and on about his post-its being gone, his pens and pencils being all messed up and his files being disorganized. Everybody thought he was crazy, though, because his desk looked just as neat as usual. You and Heeseung exchange a knowing look, and you’re quite proud that it had the effect you had hoped for.

You don’t talk about doing another prank until the next Friday; you do want to do another one, but you think it’s best to not have them too close together, and you’re not sure if Heeseung wants to help you with it. You make a note to mention it to him after the weekend.

As you’re about to leave work, Miyeon and Yuqi enthusiastically step towards you, wide grins on their faces. “Y/N!” Yuqi calls out, making you stop in your tracks.

“Hey, guys! What’s up?” you said, sensing what was coming. They exchange a look before looking back at you.

“Come get drinks with us, please!” Miyeon says, and before you can protest, she adds, “we know you’ve had a tough week, but we think it’d be a good idea for you to get your mind off of things!”

You smile a bit sadly at them, genuinely appreciating their concern but wanting to spend a nice, quiet evening alone.

“No. Nope, don’t give us that look, it means you want to say no,” Yuqi scolds.

You sigh and say, “I’m really sorry, guys. Thank you so much for the offer, and I promise we’ll go out together soon, but I don’t think I can tonight.”

They sigh as well and take turns hugging you, Miyeon saying, “That’s alright, we did expect it a bit.” They start walking out of the office, but not without Miyeon pointing at you with her finger, adding, “But you better keep that promise!”

“I will!” you reply, watching them leave with a smile. You follow soon after and drive back home, looking forward to a tranquil night in.

And it is, until you hear a knock on your front door around 8 p.m. You haven’t ordered any takeout, so who could it be? You’re only wearing a tiny tank top and pair of shorts, so you quickly grab a sweatshirt to cover your figure and open the door. Heeseung is standing there, holding up an Amazon delivery packet in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other.

“Evening!” he beams down at you.

“H-heeseung? What are you doing here?” you ask, stepping to the side so he can come in.

He hands you his things as he enters, then takes off his shoes and jacket. “Well, I overheard at the office earlier that you weren’t going out tonight, and I thought it’d be nice to keep you company.” He notices your surprised face and immediately his eyes widen, stammering, “Oh God, that’s so rude of me, I just completely invited myself over, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’ll leave-”

He tries to take back the packet and the bottle from you but you just giggle at his antics, reassuring him that it’s fine and that he’s more welcome to stay. “I said no to the girls because as sweet as they are, it’d be socially draining to spend the evening with them. It’ll be fine with you,” you said, not realizing how true the words were until they were out of your mouth. Being around Heeseung was effortless, you could just be yourself without having to worry about the clever thing to say or tip-toe around certain subjects.

He grins at you and you try to ignore how pretty his smile is. “I’m glad to know that.”

You tell Heeseung to go sit down in the living room while you go get two wine glasses. When you see him sitting on your sofa, something weird but not entirely uncomfortable settles in your chest. He’s been to your apartment a few times before, for office party after-drinks or for projects with other colleagues, but he’s never been by himself (well, except for Tuesday, but that doesn’t count, you tell yourself), and you’re not unaware of the implications of having an attractive man alone at your place and drinking wine with him.

“What’s in the Amazon bag?” you ask as you put the glasses on the coffee table and start pouring you both a drink.

“Something you’ll be very happy to see,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He opens up the packet to reveal a plastic bag full of keys with a “Ta-da!”. Each key has an unmarked keychain tied to it, and you remember your plan: buy a bunch of keys on Amazon, put his phone number on them and lose them all over town.

You start nodding fervently, a huge smile on your face. “Yes! Part two of the plan shall commence,” you say, and you hand him his glass so you can clink them together. But before that, he raises his hand, looking at you solemnly.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” he starts, making you snort at his fake pompous tone, “to you, Y/N, for not letting that asshole bring you down and still being the coolest person I know.”

You giggle as you clink your glasses with a cheers. You’re surprisingly touched by his words, but you don’t wanna turn the atmosphere all emotional and mushy, so instead, you tease, “I’m the coolest person you know? The people you hang out with must not be very cool then.” You look up at him from your drink with a mischievous smirk, and if you had any idea of the way that look made him feel, you’d probably be blushing hard.

“They are cool,” he insists, “just not as cool as you.” He stares back at you with that glint you can never figure out in his eyes, and it’s too much after five seconds so you look away with a huff.

“Whatever, let’s just get to work.” You go get two pens and plop back down in front of Heeseung, letting the keys spill from the bag onto the couch. The two of you chat and sip on wine while you write down Sunghoon’s phone number on a hundred keys each. He tells you about how he met Jay and Jake in freshman year of college and how they’ve somehow stuck together all this time no matter their differences, and you tell him about your childhood friends you only see when you go home from time to time but often keep in contact with. He brags about his karaoke skills and you make him promise to show you one day; he agrees in an instant. You say you’ve been thinking about getting a cat now that Sunghoon’s not around to complain about his allergy and ‘the mess it would make anyway,’ and Heeseung offers to come and choose one with you at the pet shelter. It’s such a nice thing to do, you think, and you try not to suffocate as your heart grows three times its size.

“Thanks, Heeseung. I’d really like that, actually,” you say, and if he notices that your eyes have teared up a bit, he doesn’t say anything.

“How are you, by the way?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “And don’t give me that bullshit you give everyone at the office. Tell me how you’ve been, really.”

You sigh deeply, willing your heart to get back to its normal size. “I tell everyone I’m fine because it’s so much easier and faster than the truth. I’m not sure how I am, to be honest.” You look up at him and his eyes softly tell you to keep going. “Sometimes I feel like there’s been a weight lifted off my chest and sometimes I feel like I’m gonna crumble under it all. I knew my relationship with Sunghoon was bound to end; we were both obviously getting tired of each other. This might be TMI, but we only had sex like once or twice a month towards the end, like an old married couple,” you say, chuckling a bit awkwardly. You could just blame it on the alcohol. Heeseung lowers his head so you wouldn’t see the blush creeping on his cheeks at the idea of sex with you.

“I think we lost feelings for each other a while ago, but it was easier staying in a fading relationship until we actually had a tangible reason to break up. Guess he provided that for us,” you say with a dry chuckle. “But in a way I’m happy it ended badly, because if we’d broken up amicably, I’m scared I might have had moments where I doubted whether it was the right decision or not. Now I know I’ll never go back to him.”

You wouldn’t go back to Sunghoon - Heeseung hopes you don’t hear his shaky intake of breath at that news. He doesn’t say anything, so you keep going.

“I think I’ve realized that ifI’m upset, it’s because of how humiliating what happened is, not because it actually happened. Does that make sense?” you ask, looking up at Heeseung.

He nods. “Yeah, I think it does. It’s just cowardly, isn’t it? If he wanted a reason to break up, there are a thousand more respectful ways to do it. Talking about it, for one.”

“Exactly. Which I think is why I want to do all this,” you gesture at the keys in front of you, “if I was actually sad because I lost him, I’d just be a crying mess right now. But I just want to piss him off, make him feel some kind of repercussions for what he did. He’s not a suspicious person originally, but I’d love it if this made him think he was being punished by the Gods or something.”

As Heeseung and you continue talking, you both keep shifting in your seats so that you end up cross-legged, facing each other and knees touching. You try not to pay it too much mind but it feels like all the heat in your body has gone to the spot you’re touching and you wonder if it would feel this warm if you touched him anywhere else.

After another thirty minutes, you’re done filling in all the keys and put them back in the bag to spread all over town the next day. Heeseung agrees to a movie, so you prepare some snacks as he gets the movie ready on your TV. When you come back in the living room, he’s got a blanket wrapped around him, lifting it and tapping the seat next to him when he sees you. Your heart melts like ice cream in the sun at the sight, and you curse it for doing so many weird things tonight.

The movie is a rom-com you’ve seen a thousand times, so you use that excuse to focus your attention on the man next to you rather than what’s playing on the TV. You’re scooted close enough to him so that your sides are touching, and your theory from earlier turns out to be true: it feels hot in all the spots your bodies come into contact. You want to fall into him because somehow, you trust him enough to catch you. You settle for resting your head on his shoulder, and his arm comes immediately around you as if he’d been waiting for you to make a move. He starts to rub gentle circles on your shoulder with his thumb and your whole body relaxes under his touch.

You turn your body towards his, and you hesitate for a few minutes because you’re afraid he might hate it but his soft caresses tell you it’s okay, so you shyly put your legs over his lap, your arms coming up to wrap themselves around his neck. “Is this too much?,” you mumble and he tries not to shiver at the feeling of your lips moving against his neck. You’ve been longing to have someone close for months now, but all your attempts at giving Sunghoon your love had been turned down so coldly that you were fearful to try it with anyone else.

“No, no, not at all. You could never be too much, Y/N,” he mumbles into your hair, and your heart races (because it just won’t settle down, tonight) at his words. You don’t think too much about it, though, otherwise your brain might short-circuit.

When you feel your eyelids getting heavy, you gather the strength to say, “I‘m getting sleepy, Hee,” the nickname leaving your lips before you can stop it.

“That’s alright, you can fall asleep,” he whispers back, and drifting off to sleep wrapped up in his arms feels like being in a cloud.

—

The next morning, the sunrise drowns your living room in warm yellow light, and the brightness wakes you up. Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself pressed to Heeseung’s chest. You can feel his heart quietly beating against your cheek and the sound of his soft snores fills the silence in the room. So this is what it feels like to wake up next to Heeseung, you think, and you really like it.

You lean back very slightly to raise your head and get a better look at him. His mouth is wide open, and there’s a small pool of saliva at the corner of his lips, but you’ve never found him more adorable. You suppress a giggle at his cute state and bury your head back into his chest, hugging him a bit tighter. You’re not sure whether you should do this or jump away from him, but the first option feels right. Plus, if you fell asleep like this, he surely wouldn’t mind waking up the same way, right?

Heeseung feels so warm in your arms. Now that you’re awake, you’re having a bit of a hard time staying still. You hike your body up his a little bit, intertwining your legs even more, and engulf your face in the crook of his neck. You take in his scent and it’s almost dizzying. His cologne has practically worn off even though hints of it are still there, but it’s the smell of his skin that makes your mind cloud. It should feel odd, being in such an intimate position with someone you’ve considered a friend and colleague for so many years, but it’s somehow comforting. You smile into his neck, nuzzling your nose a bit further into it.

He squirms a little in his sleep, and he tightens his grip around your waist so that instead of having his arms loosely wrapped around you, he’s now holding you closer to him. He lets out a low hum as he slowly stirs from his sleep and the sound makes your stomach flip. You sigh into his neck and feel him shiver at the feeling. You start rubbing his back and he hums again. “Are you awake?” you murmur softly, lips moving against his skin.

“Mh-hm,” he sleepily replies, slipping his warm hands underneath your shirt. Goosebumps appear where he touches you but your skin is on fire. As your breath gets quicker, you feel something you haven’t felt in a long time bubble in your stomach: need. Right now, you need Heeseung. His hands on you and the proximity of your bodies are intoxicating, but you need more.

The feeling is overwhelming and you don’t know what to do with it; you feel it in the tips of your toes and the palms of your hands, and it makes your head spin. You bring yourself somehow even closer to him and you bury your whole face in his neck, desperate for something, anything, and you hope he gets what you’re trying to convey.

His hands that were resting on the low of your back ride up against your shirt, exposing your back to the cold air. You exhale at his touch, squirming and biting back a whimper when his hands trace the line of your waist, making you arch your back and bringing your chest closer to his. He likes how sensitive you are and caresses you along your sides so he can hear you whine because of him. He’s just touching your back, but it’s sending you into a frenzy, and you can feel wetness pool between your legs and the knot in your stomach get tighter. You hear his breath hitch when you press a soft kiss right underneath his jaw.

“Y/N…” he breathes out, and the thought that he might want you as much as you want him right now makes you double down on your ministrations. Oh, if only you knew. If only you knew how long he’d been waiting for this, and how he thought he might be dreaming it all, not believing that he was actually holding you right now and that he could feel your lips on him.

Your soft kisses turn hungrier and sloppier, and soon you’re leaving wet marks all over his neck and jaw. His hands snake down to your ass, grabbing it tightly as he brings your crotch down onto his, and the friction makes you mewl. You untangle your leg from between his to hook it over his hips so you can feel his growing erection against you even more. As you grind against each other, you’re both breathing and moaning loudly, and his needy whimpers make your brain draw a blank. Keeping one hand on your ass, the other comes up to cup your jaw, making you look up at him, and he kisses you ravenously, tongues meeting in a desperate clash. You moan into the kiss as your hips rock together, his erection rubbing perfectly against your core. You pull back to catch your breath, but keep your lips close together so that you’re breathing each other’s air, making you feel dizzy with pleasure and want. You rake your hands through his hair, tugging at the strands, and he breathes out a curse at the feeling. He dips his hand under your shirt, tracing the outline of your breast with the knob of one of his fingers before playing with your nipple, softly twisting it between his digits.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you moan, “that feels so good.” Your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed with the intense pleasure you’re feeling, and you feel like you might cum without him even touching you down there at all. “How does it feel so good?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know either,” he purrs in your ear. “I think I might cum in my pants like a fucking fifteen year old,” he says, and you choke out a laugh.

“Me too. It just feels so fucking good.” As you utter those words, the knot in your stomach starts to get tighter and tighter, and you feel it might break apart anytime now. “Fuck, Heeseung, I think I’m gonna cum. I can’t cum like this, fuck, it just feels too good.”

Heeseung presses his fingers into your hips, surely leaving marks for you to find later there, bringing you even harder down even harder against his clothed cock, and you whine out at the feeling. “Please, please cum for me, Y/N. It’s okay. Please cum for me,” he begs, and his words send you over the edge. The knot breaks as your orgasm ripples through you, making you moan out a string of curses and Heeseung’s name. He doesn’t stop for a second, desperately chasing his own high and slightly overstimulating you.

“Say my name again, please.”

“Hee- fuck, Heeseung, you cum too, baby,” you stutter, unable to bite back the moans that escape your lips as he continues rutting into you. He brings his forehead to yours, resting them against each other. You kiss him all over his face. “Heeseung, fuck, baby, cum for me.” With one final thrust, his movements still, pleasure written all over his face as he shoots out his release, making a mess all over himself. You kiss him softly on the lips as he comes down from his high, the both of you catching your breaths.

You meet his gaze and burst into a fit of laughter, him following soon after. “Fuck, what was that?” you ask between giggles.

He rakes a hand through his hair then covers his eyes with forearm, grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t know, but it was fucking amazing.”

The two of you stay there for a few moments, arms around each other, basking in the sensation of your orgasms, and you can’t stop smiling. After a few minutes, Heeseung breaks the comfortable silence.

“As much as I’d love to stay like this for hours, I’m really sticky now,” he says with a laugh. “Shall we go get cleaned up?” he asks, a tempting glint in his eyes.

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Head first, I’ll join you in a minute.”

Heeseung nods, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before heading off to the bathroom. You lay there, closing your eyes as you try to make sense of what just happened. You and Heeseung had just gotten off on each other, and it had felt damn good. You wanted more of him; all of the cells in your body were screaming at you to get up and follow him into the shower. But it was also so confusing: you broke up with Sunghoon just a couple weeks ago, and here you were, lusting after your co-worker and friend. You aren’t blind, you’ve always known that Heeseung is an attractive man, but the sudden change in the way you see him these past few days makes you dizzy. Whatever this is, you don’t want it to be because you suddenly feel free and jump at the first man in sight or because you need someone to fill a Sunghoon-shaped hole in your heart. You don’t think it is, but you also don’t fully trust yourself to have your head screwed on right at the moment. All you know is Heeseung deserves better than being someone’s rebound, and you’re scared you won’t be able to give him what he should have.

The sound of the shower turning on wakes you from your thoughts and you get up from the couch, joining Heeseung in the bathroom. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him in all his naked glory. He’s standing back to you as he lets the water run over his head and down his toned back, and you try not to gawk at the muscles there. You want to trace the outline of them with your fingers, you want to feel his shoulder blades move underneath your hands, you want to press kisses down along his spine, you want to see goosebumps on his soft skin at your touch. You want him. But you also don’t want to hurt him.

So for now, you take your clothes off and join him under the hot water that’s already started to fog up the mirror and the glass walls of the shower. He lets out a soft gasp when you place your hands on his waist and he turns around to look at you. He looks just as perfect from the front as he does from behind.

“Hi,” he says quietly, smiling down at you.

“Hi,” you say back, roaming your thumbs over his sides. He leans down to trap your lips in a kiss, and you let him, even wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You open your mouth for him when he traces your bottom lip with his tongue, and you only pull away when the both of you are breathless.

You look down to see that he’s gotten hard again and you both laugh at the sight. “Sorry. Can’t really help it,” he says, grinning. You shake your head and give him a peck on the lips. He could probably slip right in, with how wet you were, but there was a line between you two that you were a step away from crossing, and you didn’t know if you should or not.

“Heeseung,” you call, holding his face in your hands. He hums in response, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch, and your heart feels heavy with unexplainable emotions.

“I’m scared,” you say honestly. He opens his eyes again at your words and his hands come up to cover yours, intertwining your fingers together as he brings your arms down so that they’re hanging at your sides.

“Of what?”

“Of this. Of all the things you’re making me feel that I shouldn’t be feeling right now.” You drop your head, not wanting to see the potential disappointment on his face, but he takes your chin in his hand to bring it back up. The look he gives you makes you feel more naked than your actual lack of clothes.

“Why shouldn’t you be feeling them?” he asks, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You get the sense that he’s not upset at you, however, just genuinely confused. “Because you just got out of a relationship?” he asks, and you nod. “But didn’t you say you lost feelings for him months ago?”

“I did, but it’s still a shock, breaking up after four years of being with someone. I don’t wanna string you along.”

“Y/N, you could drag me through dirt and I’d thank you. I’ll take anything you give me if it means I get to be around you,” he says, and his words pierce right into the deepest crevices of your heart, filling them to the brim. “I mean it. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m desperately in love with you. I haven’t particularly tried to hide it, especially this past week, and I’m sorry, I should’ve realized you’d need time before getting into another relationship. That is, if you’d even want to be with me.” His eyes never leave yours as he confesses his feelings for you. All you feel now are his hands around your waist, the water hitting your skin long forgotten.

“You- You’re in love with me?” you stutter, shocked by the sudden news.

“Yes, but that’s not what’s important here. If it’s time that you need, I’ll give it to you. I’ve been waiting for almost five years now, I can handle another few months.”

“Heeseung…” you start, but all you can do is hug him close to you and bury your face in his neck. Words aren’t enough to express how grateful you are for him.

“I’m sorry if I’ve pressured you. I just think I finally saw a chance and jumped on it, but the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not,” you say into his neck, “you’re not. You could never. Thank you for understanding and being patient.”

“Of course,” he says, keeping an arm around your waist and the other one coming up to stroke your hair. You lean back to take a look at him. How did you not realize how perfect he was all these years?

“I’m sorry. You deserve better than someone who makes you wait while they get their shit together.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy you’re even looking my way at all. Don’t even get me started on how ecstatic I am to be in a shower with you right now,” he says, making you both laugh. You bring your lips to his and he kisses you back like it’s second nature. Before it can get heated again, you pull away and smile at him. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the night sky.

You should feel shy being completely naked in front of Heeseung, but for some reason, it doesn’t faze you at all. The love in his eyes makes you feel like there’s nothing to be shy or embarrassed about. It’s worlds away from Sunghoon’s cold gaze you had gotten used to.

You press some body wash in your hand and lather it all over his torso and back, letting your hands roam down to his butt with a giggle. He does the same thing for you and your heart pounds as you feel his hand all over you. You try not to moan when his palm brushes over your sensitive nipple.

“You’re so pretty, I could eat you right up,” he says as his eyes rake your body up and down, voice lower and eyes darker than they were moments ago. When his gaze meets yours, his face however immediately softens. “But I’ll wait before I do that,” he adds, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

Later, you get out of the shower and dry off, then get ready for the day ahead. You spend it going around the city hand-in-hand with Heeseung. Even though the goal is to spread the keys all over town, it just feels like one day-long date. You let your footsteps take you in any direction, through paved alleys, over bridges and along tramway tracks, making sure to drop keys here and there, sometimes leaving them out in the open or hiding them behind flowerpots, so that they’d be found either in the next hour or in a year.

When you start getting hungry, you buy sandwiches and sodas from a convenience store and sit down by the pond in the park, enjoying the sun on your skin and each other’s presence. You can talk freely about anything with Heeseung without feeling judged in the slightest, and even when you’re rambling on about a show you watched or your latest random obsession, he listens to you like you’re telling him the solution to world peace. He laughs at your jokes and makes you blush with compliments and you don’t even think for a second about the reason you’re doing this in the first place. That is, until you run head-first into him.

You spent another few hours walking around and dropping keys, but got too tired and decided to get an early dinner in a bar-restaurant in the center of town as a reward for your hard work. It’s one of Sunghoon’s favorite places, and you were hesitant to go there at first, but decided that it was time to make new memories and replace bad ones with good ones. The restaurant hadn’t done anything to you, so there was no reason to avoid it. Except that the chances of running into your ex here are somewhat bigger, and of course, he had to be there now of all times.

You’re almost done eating when you see him. Or rather, you hear him. He’s screaming at the TV that’s playing a baseball game and apparently, the team he’s rooting for is losing. At first, you think the sound you hear is a fragment of your imagination: Sunghoon doesn’t get drunk and scream at TVs, especially in public places. Hell, he doesn’t even keep up with baseball. You think it’s just someone who sounds eerily like him, but you turn your head and find him hunched over the bar counter, four empty pints of beer in front of him. Sunghoon doesn’t drink beer, you think.

You gawk at him, in disbelief of his behavior, and soon enough he turns his head and sees you as well. He squints his eyes as if he’s having trouble figuring out whether that’s you or not he’s seeing, and when he confirms it, his eyes go wide and he immediately gets up, heading towards you like a drunk bull towards a red cloth. He’s teetering and you think he might fall down when he gets to your table, holding onto it for dear life.

“H-hey, Y/N,” he says, eyes looking at you but not quite focussed. He doesn’t even spare a glance at Heeseung. This isn’t the man you were dating for four years, you think. This cannot be the same man that organizes his desk maniacally or considers one glass of wine heavy drinking. But it is, and it’s a side of him you’d practically never seen before because he keeps it in the deepest corners of himself. It’s the side of him that lets go of any control, that finally doesn’t care about anything. It’s probably the side of him he hates most.

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

“Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I’m having dinner,” you curtly reply, nodding towards Heeseung. Sunghoon takes a look at the man in front of you, eyes widening then squinting again.

“Heeseung? Seriously?” he says as he clearly tries to suppress burps, slurring his words. “God, I should’ve seen this coming. You always made googly eyes at my girlfriend.”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Sunghoon. Not since you cheated on me,” you say, staring hard at him. His head falls and he drops to a squat, still holding onto the table. He looks back up at you and does something you’ve almost never seen him do before, and definitely never for you.

He cries.

His eyes are red and already puffy from the alcohol, but now tears swell in them as a tear rolls down his cheek and his lips start to quiver. Then all of a sudden, he’s full on sobbing in the restaurant, garnering curious looks from other customers.

“Oh, God,” you say under your breath, holding your head in your hands. There have been so many times he could’ve done this, showed you that he actually cared, but he just had to choose now. When he takes your hand in his and brings it to his face, Heeseung seems to hit his limit. He gets up and you think he’s going to manhandle Sunghoon out of the restaurant, and he does do that, but only after paying for the unfinished meal. When he comes back from the till, he takes Sunghoon up by the armpits and makes him walk to the outside of the restaurant, you following close behind.

The chilly night air hits your face, calming you down slightly. It’s still infuriating to see Sunghoon acting this way, and it takes everything in you not to just punch him in the face when he starts towards you again, trying to take you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really am, please just give me another chance. Or at least let me talk to you! I promise I’ll be better,” he screams out between sobs as Heeseung holds him back from you. You just cross your arms and stare coldly at him, willing the tears forming in your eyes to not fall. If there’s one thing you don’t want him or Heeseung to think, it’s how sad this is making you. Your tears are angry, frustrated ones; not heartbroken ones.

“You’re drunk, Sunghoon, I don’t wanna talk to you right now. Actually, I don’t want to talk to you, ever.”

“I’m not- I’m not drunk, I swear,” he says just before tripping over his own feet, almost face-planting on the pavement had Heeseung not been holding him steady. “I just had a really bad day, people kee- people keep calling me about keys, and I miss you so goddamn much, Y/N. I’m sorry. Plea-please, come back to me.” His words all sound meshed together and it takes effort understanding what the hell he’s saying.

“Why don’t you go to whoever you cheated on me with?”

“She doesn’t- she’s no match for you, Y/N. Please. I miss- I miss you.” You just roll your eyes in response.

He continues begging and making false promises, and you order an Uber after two minutes, not able to take any of this anymore. You sit him down in front of the restaurant, telling him to stay put, then take Heeseung’s hand and start walking away. You don’t even bother checking that he got in the Uber safely; he’s not your responsibility anymore.

You walk in the direction of your apartment. It’s silent for a few minutes until Heeseung speaks up, softly asking you if you’re alright. “I’m fine, just pissed off,” you reply colder than you mean to. You don’t want to take your anger out on Heeseung, but you feel like you’re going to explode if you bottle it in. He tries to get more out of you, to get a glimpse of how you’re feeling, but you’ve spent the last four years not talking about emotions because Sunghoon considered them a nuisance and you don’t have the strength to unlearn that behavior right now. You find yourself snapping at Heeseung when he asks you questions, and he quickly figures out that now is not the best time to talk to you.

You spend the rest of the walk in silence, Heeseung’s presence next to you the only thing keeping you from hitting a wall or screaming into the night. When you get to your apartment building, you’ve calmed down, and you apologize for acting that way towards him.

“I’ve just never seen him like that before, and it makes me so angry that he does this now. The sheer audacity of this man to cheat on me and then make a scene in front of everyone. He’ll never go to that place again, I’m sure,” you say with a dry chuckle.

Heeseung takes you in his arms, resting his chin on top of your head and slowly rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about him. All I can think to explain his behavior is that he has nothing to hold onto now, so he comes back running to you. I can’t lie, I really wanted to punch some sense into him, but I didn’t wanna make anything worse.”

You take a step towards him and nuzzle your face in his chest, warmth spreading all over you. “I had such a good day as well. I’m mad it had to end that way.”

“I know, me too,” he sighs into your hair.

You lean back to look at him and he brushes some hair out of your face. “Thank you so much for today, Heeseung. I had an amazing time. And I’m glad to hear he’s already been bothered about the keys,” you say with a laugh.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he says, placing a kiss at the top of your head.

“I think I want to be alone tonight. Just to think a little bit.”

“Of course. I’ll see you Monday at work, then?” he asks with a smile, which you return.

“See you Monday, Hee.”

He kisses your head a second time and walks away, and you already miss him. You call out to him when he’s a few yards away, and he pivots, still smiling at you.

“What’s the next thing on the list?”

—

The next day, Sunghoon sends you a text thanking you for the Uber and apologizing for his behavior but still asking to meet up so you can talk. You tell him you’ll drop his stuff off at some point after work this week. Then you block his number.

—

Being at work feels different now that you know about Heeseung’s feelings for you. You like to catch him staring at you then tease him about it during your breaks. You have lunch together, laughing hunched over your tupperwares, and if you weren’t so engrossed in each other, you might notice the knowing look Yuqi and Miyeon exchange whenever they see you acting like highschoolers. Now that he doesn’t have to hide how he feels, he gets you coffee every morning and gives you little notes that never fail to make you smile. In the evenings, he texts you about random stuff, and then apologizes about how he might be coming off too strong. You tell him that it’s fine and that you like it a lot; more than you should, probably, but you don’t say that. The two of you aren’t even properly together, yet you’ve never felt so cared for by anyone in your life.

On a Thursday night, you decide to go to Sunghoon’s and drop his stuff off together. At first, you say you should probably go alone, but Heeseung insists on accompanying you.

“I don’t want you going over there by yourself, what if he’s as drunk as last time? Plus, it says it right here that I need to be there for the prank to work,” he argues, and you agree that it’d be reassuring to have him with you. You re-read the list you’d drunkenly made together: Change the labels on his shower products and hide his TV remote when Y/N hands him back his stuff. This is a two-man job, after all.

Once at your apartment, Heeseung loads the trunk of his car with the two boxes of things Sunghoon had left behind and that you’d already gotten ready while you mess around with his shower products. You exchange the shampoo and conditioner labels and empty the bottle of body wash, replacing it with shaving cream. Sure, he’ll quickly figure out what happened and know you’re the one behind it, but you don’t care about that anymore. It didn’t matter that he knew what you were up to; this was the last prank, anyway.

Heeseung drives the both of you to Sunghoon’s apartment. When your ex-boyfriend opens the door, he seems taken aback to see the both of you there but quickly masks it, his poker face back on. Now that’s the Sunghoon I know, you think.

“Hi, Y/N. Heeseung,” he curtly greets, stepping aside so the two of you can come in. “I’m guessing you’re here to return my things?”

“Yes,” you say, looking around the familiar apartment. Nothing’s changed: it’s still as white and tidy and squeaky clean as it’s always been.

“Right. Just put them over there then, that’s fine.” Heeseung puts them down where Sunghoon points, then there’s a silence for a few seconds.

“Well, if that’s it, then…” you start and head for the door, not wanting to be around Sunghoon for longer than you needed to.

“Wait!” he suddenly calls out, making you and Heeseung look at him expectantly. “Y/N, can I uh, can we talk for a minute? Alone?” he asks, poker face suddenly crumbling.

“Um, fine, sure,” you say, and follow him into the kitchen. When his back is turned, you gesture at Heeseung to go into the living room and hide the remote as per the plan. He gives you a thumbs up as you enter the kitchen.

Once you’re in there, you cross your arms, waiting for a clearly struggling Sunghoon to start. “Right. You know I’m bad at stuff like this, so I’ll just make it short,” he says, and you try not to scoff. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am, for how things ended, and for getting drunk and being embarrassing like that the other night.” He shivers at the memory. “I said a lot of things I know I shouldn’t have said, and even though I kinda meant them, I should’ve kept them to myself.

“I don’t have a great excuse for what I did, and I don’t think you want to hear a made-up one. Things between us hadn’t been great for a while, had they?” he asks, and you shake your head in agreement. “It was painfully obvious that neither of us wanted to stay in the relationship, but… you weren’t saying anything, and I didn’t know how to bring it up…”

“So you found a way to end things without having to talk to me about it?” you say, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice. You know it’s hard for Sunghoon to talk to you like this, but you wish this had been the way you broke up. It would’ve saved you a lot of pain.

Sunghoon lets his head hang. “Yeah, I guess. If I could do things differently, I would. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well… Nothing we can do about it now.” You both stand there in silence for a while, avoiding the other’s gaze. You don’t know what to say next but it feels weird leaving now, like there’s still something unsaid.

He breaks the silence first. “So. What’s um, what’s with you and Heeseung?”

You look at him, surprised by his question. “I’m not sure. We’re figuring things out,” you reply cautiously. He nods his head slowly, taking the information in.

“So, he’s not like a rebound or anything?”

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “No, Sunghoon, he’s not a rebound. If I needed a rebound, I’d have gotten one months ago.”

“But we would've been together then…?”

“So? That didn’t stop you,” you say coldly. “Anyway, I think this conversation’s over. Thanks for apologizing, I guess.”

Sunghoon doesn’t try to stop you, and you try not to be disappointed. It would’ve been a nice ego stroke.

Walking back to Heeseung’s car, you nod and exhale through your nose when he asks you if you’re alright. You ask him where he hid the TV remote, and he says he stashed it between towels in a cupboard in the bathroom: “There’s no way he’ll find it there anytime soon. You guys were talking a while, so I also changed some books’ places on his shelves in the living room.”

In the car, Heeseung gives you silence, which you’re grateful for. You need some time to think about what just happened, and what will happen now. Your talk with Sunghoon could’ve gone somewhat better, but you shouldn’t have expected that much from him; him sincerely, soberly apologizing already makes you feel better. You think about the final thing from the list: Make him regret what he did.

“Hey, Heeseung?” you call out, and he hums in response, turning his head slightly towards you but keeping his eyes on the road.

“About the last thing on the list. I guess that’s already done, no? I don’t think there’s anything else we can do that’ll make him regret what he did more, is there?”

He seems to think for a minute, pouting his lips in reflection. “I guess not. I’d say he seems pretty regretful as well. How did your talk with him go?”

“It was alright,” you sigh. “At least he wasn’t drunk, this time. I’m happy he knows what he did was wrong, and I’m glad he found it in him to apologize. In all our years together, that must’ve been the third or fourth time.”

“Wow,” Heeseung breathes out. You turn to look at him and see that he’s clenching his jaw. He notices your stare and chuckles, explaining: “It’s just frustrating knowing you had to go through that for such a long time. I could already tell you weren’t happy with him, but I didn’t know how bad it was. If I had, I think I would’ve had a savior moment and tried to rescue you from there.”

You laugh with him, and contentment suddenly fills you. It’s so easy, being around Heeseung. It’s easy, and it feels good. “Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?”

He stops at a red light and turns to look at you, his eyes trapping you in. “Yeah, I am.”

Another comfortable silence settles in the car as you face the window, hiding the blush creeping on your cheeks. Heeseung takes one of your hands from your lap, holding it on your thigh as he keeps his other hand on the steering wheel. He doesn’t let go of it until he parks in front of your apartment, turning to you with a smile.

“So, what now?” you ask, feeling giddy under his gaze.

He giggles at you and brings his hand up to pat your hair. “Whatever you want.”

You’re not used to being given the right to make decisions, and the fact that Heeseung so easily gives you the reins takes you aback. You try to figure out what you want, but it’s a bit hard; there’s nothing you want to do that jumps out at you, and so you tell Heeseung that.

“That’s alright. Do you know if you want to be by yourself? Or should I stay with you?”

You take another moment to ponder, checking the time. Your phone screen blinks back 8:03 p.m. “I think… it’s already quite late, I think I want to go to bed early. By myself, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he says, smiling at you. “I’ll let you go, then.”

You kiss his cheek goodbye, then head to the entrance of your building, waving at him when you reach it. He gestures for you to get in, and you like that he waits for you to be inside before driving away.

—

Heeseung is so patient. He doesn’t make you feel bad for not giving him a straightforward answer after a month, he just keeps on smiling at you, making you laugh, and doing sweet gestures. He reminds you everyday that he’s there through his actions but never pressures you. As promised, he comes with you to the pet shelter, and together you choose an orange tabby that you’d fallen in love at first sight with.

One day after you’ve gone out for drinks with Yuqi and Miyeon and you’re not thinking very straight, you call him in drunk tears, apologizing for making him wait and saying you don’t want him to be upset with you.

“I could never be upset with you, Y/N. I’ll wait however long you need, and I’m happy as long as you are too.” His words stick with you and they echo in your mind whenever your gazes meet.

One Friday night, Miyeon invites everyone in the office out to celebrate her recent promotion. Heeseung sits next to you and holds your hand under the table. You find yourself wishing you didn’t feel the need to hide your intertwined hands from your colleagues. You turn your face towards Heeseung who’s engrossed in a conversation with your manager, and you love how his face lights up and how animatedly he’s talking. He looks so beautiful and you hold his hand a bit tighter. He turns to you for a second with a smile on his face, squeezing your hand before turning back to the manager, and it’s all you need to know you’re ready for him.

You and your colleagues close the bar, and Heeseung and you stand outside for half an hour, making sure everyone gets safely into a taxi. Heeseung had said he didn’t feel like drinking that night, and you had stopped as soon as the realization had hit you, wanting a clear head.

When everybody’s left, you and Heeseung shyly avoid each other’s gaze, kicking small pebbles on the ground, bursting into a fit of giggles when your eyes meet.

“So…” he starts.

“So…” you repeat, looking up at him with a grin.

“I live quite close to here, if you’d like to come over,” he offers, voice quiet.

“I’d love that.” He looks at you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You both laugh again, and you think it’s crazy how he manages to make you feel fifteen again. He takes your hand in his, swaying it back and forth the whole way to his apartment. He opens the door for you, grandly gesturing for you to go in. You’ve been here before for after-drinks with him and your colleagues, but just like when he had come over at yours a few weeks prior, being here now by yourself feels different. Heeseung’s apartment is cozy, inviting and very him. Old books stand on the same shelf next to the latest PS5 releases, he’s got framed pictures of him and his family next to his TV; there’s even a few which you’re in. A colorful knitted throw covers the brown leather couch, and he shyly explains that he’s found a new hobby these past few months.

“It started out when my niece was born, I wanted to knit her a small hat…” he says, and you want to squish his cheeks with how adorable he is.

You take another look around the living room before your eyes settle on him. He hopes you can’t hear how loud his heart is beating right now. He clears his throat. “What do you, um, what do you want to do?” he asks nervously.

You know what you want to do. You feel it burning inside you, but you don’t know how to put it into words. You take a step towards him, your eyes never leaving his.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” You shake your head. “Water?” You shake it again, taking another step closer to him. He closes his eyes and releases a shaky breath when you’re standing right in front of him, mere centimeters separating your bodies.

“Heeseung?” you say, and he hums at the sound of his name but keeps his eyes closed. “Thank you for waiting.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing the side of your face into his chest. His arms immediately come around your waist, hugging you closer to his body.

“Of course.”

“I don’t want to make you wait anymore,” you say quietly, and when he doesn’t answer after a few moments, you think he might have not even heard you. He leans back to look at you, and you swear his eyes have gotten a shade darker.

“Are you sure?” he asks, eyes trained on your lips.

“Yes. Kiss me, please,” you say, and he doesn’t need to be told twice before pressing his mouth to yours.

You find release in his lips. The kiss starts out slow and careful at first, as if he’s scared you might go back on your word at any moment, but he’s quickly reassured that you won’t when you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, your hands finding purchase in the soft strands of his hair. You can feel all those years he’s waited to do this in his kiss, all of his desire and need and desperation. You hope the way you kiss him back makes him understand how happy and safe he’s made you feel these past weeks.

He bends down and picks you up, making you yelp in surprise at the sudden action, then carries you bridal-style to his bedroom, laying you down gently on the mattress. He places feather-like kisses all over your face, ears and neck, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. You grab his face to bring his lips back down onto yours, and he gladly reciprocates the kiss, the both of you smiling into it. The shots of soju you had hours ago have nothing to do with how light-headed you feel.

You untuck his button-up from his trousers, dipping your hands underneath it to feel the warm skin there. He shivers at your touch and kisses you more hungrily, his tongue asking for permission inside your mouth. Your hands come from his lower back to his chest and you start to unbutton his shirt from the top down, marveling at the sight of his toned chest and abs once the shirt is off. You push down on his shoulders so that he lays on his back as you straddle his hips. You dip your head down to press warm kisses down his shoulder and between his collarbones, your hand caressing his stomach and feeling him squirm at your touch.

When his hands come to hold you at the sides, you sit up and let him take your top off, laughing together when it gets a bit stuck around your head. His big hands brush against your stomach and come up to cup your breasts over your bra, which you quickly unclasp. He breathes out a ‘wow’ at the sight of you half-naked on top of him, and you think there’s no way you’ll ever get tired of that look of admiration in his eyes.

He leans in and wraps his soft lips around your nipple, licking and nipping at the sensitive bud, making you moan and arch your back in pleasure. He keeps one arm around your waist and uses his second hand to tend to your other breast, making sure they both get attention. You graze your fingers through his locks, tugging at them when it feels particularly good. His actions make a fire burn in your core, and you’re so desperate for any kind of friction that you start rubbing yourself over his growing erection, making him moan around your nipple.

He kisses from your breasts back up to your lips, trapping them ravenously as his hands snake underneath your skirt to grab at your ass, bringing you down even further onto him. You let your arms hang around his head as you bury your face in the crook of his neck and he continues pressing kisses in your hair.

“Want you inside me, Hee,” you croak out, voice weak.

“Hmm. You have no idea how much I want that baby, but I want to take it slow with you. Make you know how much I love you,” he says, his words sending shivers down your spine.

His arms come around you as he lays you down on your back again and hovers over you. “L-love me?,” you ask quietly.

He kisses you once on the lips and looks you in the eyes. “Yes, love you. So much.” He starts kissing down your body, sucking a mark right underneath your collarbone. “More than you could ever know.” He sucks a second mark in the same spot, and you look down to see that he’s formed a heart with his love bites.

He hooks his fingers under your skirt and looks up at you, asking for permission. You nod your head and he pulls your skirt and underwear down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor next to the bed. He rakes his fingers up and down your sides, remembering from last time how sensitive you are there. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Y/N. I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” he says as he openly stares at your naked body in front of him.

He sits up at the end of his bed, undoing his belt and taking his trousers off so that he’s left in his boxers, the fabric stretching around his hard member. Your mouth waters at the sight, and you reach out a hand, laying it in his chest. “Please, Hee. I need you.”

He smiles softly at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve waited so long for this. Do you think you could be patient for me tonight? I promise I’ll give you what you want. I just want to take my time,” he asks and you nod fervently, eyebrows furrowed. He’s right; you’ve made him wait for such a long time, the least you could do is let him go slow tonight.

He hovers down your body, taking your left foot in his hand and placing a soft kiss on top of it. He kisses all the way up from your foot to your thighs, gently biting the soft flesh there. “You’re so pretty, all spread out like this for me. Do you know how pretty you are? Hm?”

You can only hum in response, mind too clouded with pleasure when he’s barely touched you yet. “Please,” you breathe out.

“Please what?” he asks, still nipping at your thighs, making them shake in anticipation. There was a fire between your legs and you didn’t know how long you could take it. “Use your words so I know what you want, baby.”

“Plea-please touch me, Hee.”

“Touch you where, baby? Here?” he says as his thumb strokes up your folds, already soaking wet, making you moan at the sensation.

“Fuck, yes, right here, please,” you whine, bucking your hips up, craving more of his touch.

Heeseung could cum at the sight in front of him, of you so needy for him, of you begging for more. He feels like he’s dreaming, but your moans and your grip on his arm remind him that this is real, this is actually happening. “You have no idea what you do to me, beautiful,” he breathes out before diving into your core, his tongue lapping up all of your juices, licking stripes up your folds and sucking at your clit. He eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in ages, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach much sooner than you’d like to admit. You tug at his hair and claw at his shoulders, not wanting to hurt him but needing something to hold onto.

You’re a blubbering mess underneath him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside you, quickly adding a second one when he sees how wet and accommodating you are around his fingers. Not even a minute later, you’re moaning out his name like it’s the only thing you know to say and bucking your hips into his face and hand as your orgasm comes crashing down on you, taking your breath away for a few seconds. You hold for dear life onto his shoulders as he helps you ride out your high, then kisses all the way back up to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He lets you catch your breath for a moment, kissing your face softly and telling you how well you did, how pretty you are. When you’re rested, you grab his face, kissing him with all the desire in your body. Your hand snakes down to palm him over his boxers and you see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you can’t help but kiss him there over and over again. You help him out of his boxers, letting his erection spring free as it slaps against his stomach. You take him in your hand, spreading the pre-cum all over him as you bite at his neck and earlobe, reveling in the sounds he’s making for you.

“Need more of you, Hee,” you whisper in his ear.

“Mhm. Anything for you, beautiful. How do you want to do this?” he asks, looking at you with hooded eyes.

“I think… I want to ride you. I want to look at you.” He nods and sits up back against the headboard, taking you in his arms with him and sitting you in his lap. Feeling him against you is enough to make your mind draw a blank. He reaches for his drawer, saying, “Let me put a condom on first,” but you stop him.

“I’m on the pill. Want to feel you without anything, if that’s okay.”

He lets out a shaky breath and nods. “That’s more than okay,” he says with a smile.

You raise yourself on your knees, taking him in your hand and rubbing his tip between your folds a few times before finally sinking down onto his cock, the both of you releasing heavy breaths at the feeling. You sit there for a minute or two, chests pressed together, letting yourself adjust to his size as he grazes his fingernails up and down your back.

“Take your time, baby. You’ve already done so well. And you feel so good just like this.”

“Mmh. Feels good for me too, Hee,” you murmur in his neck.

“Yeah? I’m glad,” he says, letting his hands roam down your back to your ass and behind your thighs. Feeling ready, you move a little bit in his lap, tentatively rolling your hips over his, and the sensation takes over your whole body. You both moan at the same time, and when you pick your pace up, Heeseung can’t stop muttering curses under his breath.

“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. That feels amazing. You’re so perfect.”

He hands grab at your ass, massaging the soft flesh. You then start raising your hips and slamming them back down onto his and he bucks his up to meet yours, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. You try to keep up a quick pace, desperately chasing your high, but soon enough your thighs start to tire and you don’t have the strength to go as fast.

“Heeseung… Need help…” you breathe out, collapsing on top of him.

Without a word, he places a hand between your shoulder blades, pressing you close to him and making you raise your hips. He then digs his fingers into the sides of your hips and starts pounding into you at a much quicker pace than you could ride him, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and your gradually louder moans filling the room. “I’m gonna cum, Hee,” you warn, voice breathy and high-pitched.

“Fuck. Me too, baby.” You’re a moaning mess on top of him, and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier as he approaches his own high. He grips his fingers tighter in your skin as his orgasm hits him, curses and moans escaping his lips. The sinful sounds he’s making and the feeling of him shooting his seed inside you are enough to send you over the edge, and you cum all over his dick, muttering his name over and over again.

You stay locked against each other for a few moments as you regain consciousness, feeling him getting softer inside you. He pulls out, making you hiss slightly, and rests his head against the wall behind him, looking at you with a cheeky grin and heavy eyelids, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your hips.

You lay down on the bed, body feeling heavy, and rest your head on his thigh, your hand coming up to caress his other one. You place a kiss on the inside of his thigh, then another one of his hip bone, and wrap your arms around his waist, closing your eyes and letting his hand in your hair lull you to sleep.

“Hey, lovebug, don’t fall asleep on me. Let’s get you cleaned up first,” he says, and you let out a low hum, letting him unwrap your arms from around him, get up and help you to the bathroom. “I’ll go and draw us a bath, okay?” he asks softly, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

When you’re back from the toilet, the bath is all filled up with water and he’s laying in it, arms resting against the sides of the tub. He opens his eyes when he hears you coming and he sits up a little bit, gesturing for you to get in with him. You settle yourself between his legs, his arms wrapping themselves around you and rest your head against his chest. You hum at the feeling of the warm water enveloping the both of you and of him against you.

“I think I could stay like this forever,” you say, hands coming to cover his on your stomach.

He lets out a small laugh. “Me too, only if it meant we didn’t get pruny fingers and feet.”

“Ew,” you laugh with him. The two of you chat for another twenty minutes, talking about this and that until the water gets cold and it’d feel cozier being under the sheets together rather than in the tub. He helps you out of it, drying the both of you off with one towel, making you laugh when he wraps it around you two.

You get into bed naked together, and you breathe in the scent of his skin that’s already become so familiar and comforting. Before you can drift off to sleep, you call out his name softly.

“Yes, love?”

“You won’t hurt me, right?”

He feels his heart ache for you, for how right you deserve to be treated and for all the love he wishes he could’ve given you this whole time. “Never in a million years, Y/N.” That’s all you need to hear to fall asleep peacefully.

—

You wake up in the same position you had all these weeks ago, your back to Heeseung’s chest and his arm lazily over your waist, and it's the most perfect way to start off your day. Your mouth feels dry so you sit up, reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand, but Heeseung’s arm around you tightens as he sleepily mumbles, “Stay here.”

You turn around to face him and press a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I just need some water, Hee.” He lets out a small groan but lets you go, and you gulp the water down.

“Should I go make us breakfast?” you ask even though you already know the answer.

“No,” he says, drawing out the vowel, “stay here. Come here.” He opens his arms wide, inviting you in his hold. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and you feel at home.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he says, hugging you tight to him.

“Good morning, Heeseung.”

“Hm, don’t call me Heeseung,” he whines. “Call me Hee. Like you did last night. I like it more.” You laugh at his cute behavior, making him whine even more. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” He starts tickling your sides and you laugh even more.

“Sorry! Sorry!” you say, trying to catch your breath. “Sorry, Hee.” He hums appreciatively and stops tickling you, kissing your forehead.

“Better?” you ask teasingly.

“Better,” he says just as his stomach starts growling, making you snort.

You give him a small tap on his butt, and, ignoring his whines, say, “C’mon, let’s have breakfast.” You manage to escape his grasp and rummage around his drawers, finding a t-shirt and pair of boxers of his for you to wear. He watches you get dressed with a lazy smile.

“Are you trying to get me hard again, baby?”

“No, I’m trying to make you get up so we can eat.”

“I can just eat you.” You grab a pillow from his bed to throw over his face, making him laugh. “Sorry, sorry,” he says between giggles, and gets up, grabbing clean clothes for himself.

You spend the day lazing around his apartment, fueling up on snacks and kisses from each other. You can barely keep your hands off of him; his skin is warm under your hands and you feel at peace when you can feel him against you. Sunghoon had never much liked skinship, and you’d always had to stop yourself from reaching out and touching him. But Heeseung melts under your touch every single time; he kisses your palm when you cup his cheek and caresses your hands when you wrap your arms around his middle from behind and strokes your hair when you rest your head against his shoulder. His moans and whimpers are the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard; you go down on him while you’re watching a movie and then again in the shower just to hear them over and over again. He eats you out like you’re dessert, telling you you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. When he spoons you on the couch, neither of you can keep it innocent for long before you ask him to cockwarm you, and he readily obliges, burying himself deep inside you.

“Y/N?” he calls out when you’re in that position, watching the nth movie of the weekend.

“Yes, Hee?”

“I’ve been thinking about that list. You know how ‘make him regret what he did’ is the last thing on the list?”

“Yeah, and we said that was already done, didn’t we?” you say, not really wanting to talk about anything related to Sunghoon anymore.

“Yeah. But I was thinking, the only way he’ll really regret it is when he sees how happy you are without him, don’t you think?”

“I guess…” you reply, curious as to what he’s getting at.

“Would you let me do that? Make you happy?”

You let out a small ‘oh’ at his words, and immediately feel tears welling in your eyes. It’s hard, wrapping your head around the fact that someone wants to be there for you and look after your happiness without asking for anything in return. “You already make me so happy, Hee.”

He giggles, burying his face in the crook of your neck and leaving a kiss there. “I do?” he asks, and you don’t know how he doesn’t see it.

“So much. And I want to make you happy, too.”

“You do that just by being here, lovebug. You don’t need to do anything else.” You take your hand up to your mouth and kiss him all over his fingers and palm.

“What should we tell people at work?” you ask, gently biting his knuckle to annoy him, but he just lets you, biting your neck in return.

“About what?”

“About us.”

“Us?”

“Yes?”

“Well, I think everybody already knows I’m in love with you. I was, well, still am, pretty obvious about it, so I’m not sure how you never saw it.”

“Sorry,” you say, kissing his knuckle in apology.

“It’s okay. What do you want to tell them?”

“I don’t know. Should we let them figure it out without saying anything?”

“Figure what out?”

“That we’re together.”

“We’re together?!”

“Of course we are!” you laugh, gently tapping his hand.

“You didn’t tell me that!”

“I thought it was obvious!”

He joins in your laughter. “We need to stop thinking we’re being obvious and just tell each other how we feel.”

“I agree. How do you feel?”

“I love you. How do you feel?”

You pause for a second, and because it feels right, and because it feels like the truth, you say, “I love you too.”

—

It takes Yuqi and Miyeon approximately two days to figure out that Heeseung and you are together. And once these two know, everybody in the office knows. To be fair, the two of you do try to keep things professional; it's not your fault that Yuqi walked in just as you placed a quick peck on Heeseung's cheek in the break room, or that he spends more time at your desk than usual, always pretending there's nothing he needs to talk to you about.

“The two of you are like Jim and Pam,” your manager complains jokingly when he walks past you.

Heeseung and you just exchange a knowing glance, trying not to burst into laughter in the middle of the office. You look at him and he looks at you, and you’ve never been happier.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @sd211 @lalalalawon @w

#enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen au #heeseung au #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios

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olsenmyolsen · 9 months

Text

You Have Me For The Night (18+)

master list

dark master list

MCU AU (Female Reader X WandaNat)

Summary: You need a job and money. Luckily, Natasha Romanoff knows exactly what you can do.

Word Count: 11.7K

Content: Heavy Smut! Sex!!! Fingering, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Edging, Begging, Strap, Praise, switch!Wanda, Transactional Relationship, Corruption kink(?), Oral, Handjob, Aftercare, Feelings

Also special thanks to @lesbianpizza for their help from time to time ❤️

Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck, and they knew it.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

They loved each other deeply and cared for one another more than themselves. But between training, missions, and the workload of it all. They never ended up on the same page. Or together. In fact, it had been weeks upon weeks since Natasha had touched Wanda and vice versa.

So when week five turned into six. Both of the women felt like they were losing it. Wanda wanted to cry because Nat was across the globe while Natasha wanted to capture their mark and kill the man who made her miss her very spicy scheduled FaceTime call with her little Wands.

But here's where you come in.

You see. You've always been.. flexible. Open-minded.

And with a little download of a very specific new app and a background check using SHIELD encrypted servers led one wife... renting... you for the other.

But we're getting a little ahead of ourselves. So let's back it up a bit and show what happened before you pulled up to a lovely house in upstate New York.

"How's the job hunt going?" Your best friend and roommate Ava Starr asked, making you sigh. Truth be told, since your girlfriend up and left you five months ago for her coworker Jean. You haven't done much of anything. I mean, you cried and got angry and cried again. Got sad. Thought about adopting a cat. But didn't and then cried about not adopting the cat. On top of that, since your father's recent death, you've been coasting off his inheritance. But that money was slowly disappearing.

Hence, the job hunt.

"Oh, it's going.." You reply while you skim through Netflix before switching to Hulu, not satisfied with any of the options. Ava huffs from the kitchen before entering the living room and yanking the Roku remote from your hand, turning the TV off. "Hey!" You barely moved from your laying position on the couch.

Ava walks in front of you, making you eye level with her legs. "Did you use my razor? Your legs are looking better than normal." "Y/N!" Your roommate exclaims, making you look up to her. "Get up." You shake your head. "No."

"Y/N."

"I don't want to." Ava rolls her eyes at you. "Y/N. Now." You groan loudly and annoyingly before sitting up. "Child." Ava huffs at you before sitting right next to you. "Have you at least gone out?"

You know what Ava is getting at. The have you tried dating or hooking up? Question. "Tuesday night." You reply, making Ava furrow her eyebrows before she closes them. "Y/N. You and I went out for Chinese on Tuesday night!"

"I went out!" You whine. "With me. We're not dating!" Ava yells and pushes your shoulder lovingly. "We could."

"We could what?"

"Date." You wiggle your eyebrows as Ava laughs. "No. We couldn't. You're not my type."

"What to pretty?"

"Too annoying." She beat you there. "Besides. You know what I'm getting at." Ava gets up to check on her pasta. You let your body go limp and slide down the couch, forcing your sweatshirt to ride up, exposing your stomach. "Did you even try the apps I downloaded for you!" Ava yells from the kitchen. You mumble in response to her that she surprisingly hears.

"Maybe you just need something new," Ava spoke as she came into the room again with a bowl in her hand. "Maybe." You reply. "Where's your phone?" Ava asks as you slide back up the couch, pulling your shirt down. "I don't know somewhere ar-"

"I got it."

You shrugged as Ava typed in your password and searched through the App Store for you. She started asking you questions, but you were too focused on stealing her bowl of food to notice. She even slapped your hand away when you weren't being as sneaky as you thought.

"Oh, can it." Says your so-called best friend.

You sniffed loudly as she handed your phone back to you. "What is it?" You asked, looking at an empty profile of yourself. "I downloaded an app called hush. It's supposed to solve the two biggest problems you are doing nothing about. Basically, have sex. Get money."

You looked through the photos of the women on the app and felt your face getting warm. "How did you find out about it?" You asked, unable to pull your eyes away from a blonde woman named Carol. "I didn't. It was new. But the reviews seem to be nothing but praise. Plus, only women are allowed to use it. I think it connects to your phone account or something.. I don't know... I just signed you up and hit okay every time a thing popped up." That made you pull your eyes away.

"What if I'm signed up to have like my kidneys harvested or something!?" Ava shrugs at you and spins a forkful of noodles. "It'll be better than to hear you close and reopen Netflix fifteen times a night."

"You're being mean tonight."

"Only because I love you."

You got that right.

You flip through the profile and information tabs. "hush haven for under satisfied hores..?" You did a double-take as you read the words again. Ava snickered while watching you. "They spelled whores wrong." You pointed out, making Ava smack you on the arm.

"Okay, so once I upload my.. pictures.." You look to Ava, who nods along. "And select which category I'm in. Giver or Muse... Then it looks like I wait until someone swipes on me. And then the conversation can start.."

Ava sets her bowl of food down and leans over to help you. "Alright. Let's get to work." She states, forcing you to look at her dumbfounded. "But I was going to look through my.." "Nudes?" She cuts you off. "So what, dude? I've known you half your life. Grow up." Ava makes a point and grabs the phone out of your hand. You don't even try to fight because you get distracted by her pasta. Not wasting another second, you grab it and shove a forkful in your mouth.

"Hey!" Ava finally looks up from the phone. "Come on! I bought dinner on Tuesday." You claim, which Ava rolls her eyes at. "Fine." Ava goes back to your phone before she remembers. "Wait, no, you didn't! I did!"

It's a wonder how you ended up in the bedroom of Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff.

As Ava and you set aside your food-related differences and finish setting up your profile. Across the globe, The Black Widow is sitting in a dingy one-bedroom flat waiting for her ride home after taking down an illegal arms operation.

When her phone rings, she expects it to be Wanda but gets disappointed when it's a bald one-eyed man. "Fury," Natasha says in a manner only she can to a superior. "Romanoff." He replies. "I see you didn't run into any trouble on your little excursion." He smiles, knowing Natasha isn't. "Just the usual. Wasn't even a challenge. I made one guy break his own arm just so he wouldn't have to deal with me."

Fury raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure he was more than happy to do so." Natasha shrugs. "Eh, I still pepper-sprayed him." Natasha leans back in the wooden chair she's in. "So what's the call for?"

"I got some intel on a dark web app called hushquietly launching. Don't know if it's legit. Don't know if it's not. But I figured while I got you waiting on a ride, you could help me out. What do you say, Romanoff?"

Natasha sighs. Nicks got her. "I'll let you know what I find."

"Appreciate it. Say hi to Misses for me when you get home." The line goes dead, and Natasha is left wondering about Wanda. Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her body. How much she misses her touch. How badly she wants to be with her right now. To feel her.

She dips her back and bites her lip before remembering where she was. "Goddamnit!" Natasha curses and storms off to gather her laptops and get to work.

Safe to say, over the next couple of hours, Natasha couldn't find anything on this so-called hush. The keyword existed but not in a way that would be important to SHIELD or The Avengers. Natasha even scoured the ligament app stores repeatedly, and nothin- "Wait a minute.." Natasha leaned forward and clicked on an app that she could've sworn wasn't there a second ago.

Once the app opened, it was apparent that this was not what Fury was looking for. But.. Natasha didn't stop... She looked over the fine detail of the signup menu and the tagline below.

"A special someone for your special someone."

She looked over the full name of the app before she made sure to think about what she was doing. The line between right and wrong was a little blurry. But the line in the sand was quickly drawn when Natsah's phone went off.

A text from her wife.

"I don't know when you'll see this, Milaya, but I just want you to know that while I think about you every day... right now, I'm thinking about you in a way that makes me cry because you can't fuck me."

Attached was a photo of her Sokovian in Natasha's favorite red lingerie set.

Natasha's fingers hovered over the keys to type a response before stopping herself and smiling.

Not too much later, a message was sent.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, smiling, sipping on a beer. On her laptop was every single thing she could find about you. When everything came up green, and the a-okay was given to Natasha's brain, she let you know your services would be required.

Natasha held her phone and double-checked that the cameras inside and outside the house were in working order.

They were.

"This should be fun."

Ding!

Your phone lit up with a notification from hush. It worked. Whatever you and Ava did worked. "Dude!" Ava looked at the message from a very hot redhead named Natalie. "You have to take this!" You paused your show and looked at the message. You barely skimmed it before you saw the price that was being offered to you. That made you go over and re-read everything Natalie sent.

"I told you the Halloween Catsuit picture would be a good choice!" Ava cheered as you clicked on the pictures of Natalie. You knew the pictures had to be of her. The app ran an algorithm that detected fake/ai photos. So, was Natalie like a model? Or just sculpted by the gods? What did they need you for?

But as you re-read the message for a third time. You still couldn't believe it.

"Hello Y/N,

I'm just going to cut straight to the chase. I want your services tonight for my wife, Wendy.

I'm away on business, and lately, I haven't been able to give my wife the satisfaction she needs. So, inquiring someone as beautifully stunning as you isn't a wrong place to ask. I'm willing to spend $10,000 for tonight's services and hoping we can bend the rules a little. If you accept, we will discuss more.

Hope to hear from you ;)"

You stared down at your phone, unaware of Ava reading over your shoulder. Your only focus was on three things.

1. Natalie wants you to fuck her wife. 2. She called you beautifully stunning, which means she's seen your pics, and that made you get very, very, very warm. 3. $10,000.

Your phone dinged again as a new message appeared while your brain was processing.

Okay, now there was one more thing on your mind.

Natalie's wife, Wendy.

"After this, I won't be able to send you anything else until you accept. So, with that in mind, Y/N, here's a picture of Wendy from Halloween last year. I thought you might enjoy this since you posted that very sexy Catsuit photo from Halloween. Anyways, cute, right? Just imagine what she's like when she is begging to be fucked like the slut she is."

The accept button was staring at you in the face.

After looking at a picture like that, how could you say no?

"She's gorgeous," Ava spoke up for the both of you. You just nodded before moving your lips. "She is." Then it dawned on you once again."Holy fuck."

Wendy's wife was about to pay you $10,000 to have sex with someone that you'd pay to hurl slurs at you. Not that you think Wendy would, but you get the point.

Natasha's phone beeped on the bedside table where she was staying. She leaned over, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and bike shorts, having changed after Fury told her that her ride would be delayed.

Anyways. It wasn't Wanda or Fury messaging her.

It was you.

She smiled and felt the giddiness run through her body when she read the words: "I accept."

The money hit your account quicker than you thought possible. Seconds after you accepted Natalie's offer, the money was there.

Along with an address and Natalie's preferences for what you should wear for Wendy.

- No Panties - Black Dress - Black Tights - Black Heels - Peach Lipstick

You didn't know why it had to be peach lipstick, but when you asked Natalie, she told you to "ask Wendy."

Regardless, Ava and you couldn't believe it. You couldn't think that this was actually happening. That this was going to work. Which meant you couldn't believe that you had to tell Ava that she was right for once.

Luckily, Ava didn't let it get to her head. (She did, especially because she just happened to have the peach lipstick you needed.)

Ava offered to drive you to the location typed in, in your maps app, but you've seen the way she drives, and you'd like to arrive in one piece, so you Ubered.

"Couple of minutes out." You messaged "Natalie".

Unbeknownst to you was that Natasha was already tracking you. Laying in bed, one arm propping her up, she watched a little dot, you, arrive closer and closer to the house she and her wife, Wanda, shared.

Natasha could imagine your face sprinkled with curiosity as the Uber made its way up the winding road that was their driveway.

Even better was the fact that Wanda knew nothing. After messaging her wife earlier, she had to be left to her own devices, which was nice and all, but Wanda was missing contact. Her vibrator and fingers could only do so much. She missed the touch of someone on her body. Lips on her own. Fingers in her hair. She needed it and more!

Badly!!

Wanda turned off the living room TV after not paying attention to anything for the last half hour and was ready to head upstairs when her phone started ringing.

Stopping in front of the stairs, she smiled. "Hi, baby!" Wanda giggled, hoping Natasha would be home soon. "Hi detka." Her wife replied. "How are you?" Wanda asked as she ran up the stairs to peel off her sweats she put on following her afternoon activities. "I'm good Wands. Waiting for my ride out. So I'll be home later than scheduled."

Wandastoppedmoving as her pants fell to the ground, revealing the red strap she put on earlier just for Natasha. "Oh.." The disappointment in Wanda's voice was evident. "Wanda-" "No, it's okay, Tasha. I get it." Wanda sadly took off her top and was about to remove the harness when Natasha's voice spoke up on speaker. "Stop what you're doing!"

Wanda froze her movement. "Don't take that off!" Natasha spoke again. "How did- cameras." Even though Wanda couldn't see it, her wife smiled. "Turn around for me, beautiful." Wanda took her hands off the strap and turned around to the camera in the corner of the ceiling. Smiling at it when she saw the red light glowing underneath it.

Natasha was watching.

"Was that for me?" Natasha smirked. "It was."Wanda grabbed the phone and walked around to the side of the bed, bringing herself closer to the camera. Leaning back so Natasha gets the full of view of her naked wife with a 7" red silicone cock.

"What was my little witch planning on doing with it?" Natasha asked, knowing full damn well. Wanda playfully rolled her eyes at the nickname.

"I think only good girls who come home are allowed to know," Wanda spoke as she turned around, showing off her big smooth ass. Working out with a spy has its benefits.

"So if I were there, you'd do something about it?" Natasha asked while her eyes watched your dot stop right in front of the house. Your Uber leaving. Wanda still having no idea.

Wanda sat on the bed, smiled, and stared at the camera as she started moving her hand up and down the shaft of the cock. "Yes." The Sokovian spoke.

Nat bit her lip as the ring camera went off. The noise and notification alerting Wanda as well. "Is that you?" She looked up to the camera, asking. "No, baby. It's not. But it's for you, my Wendy."

Wanda turned and grabbed her phone, confused. "For me? Wendy-" The alias made Wanda remember times before the I Do's. "Natasha, what did you do?" Wanda was about to take her strap off yet again when Natasha commanded her not to.

"Keep it on. But on your pink robe. She'll explain everything detka. I'll call you in a bit. I'll be watching on cams."

With that, Natasha hung up and left Wanda in their bedroom, horny and confused about what her wife had in store. She turned her head and saw the red light still on. Okay. Wanda thought. Let's see what this is. She ran to the bathroom and slipped on her pink-colored robe before making her way downstairs.

On the front porch, you felt sillier and sillier. The doorbell had gone off twice, and no one had come to the door. You were about to call it quits and probably cry when you got home when your phone buzzed.

"She's coming, baby, don't worry."

If the term of endearment didn't make you blush, then the woman on the other side of the door would have when it flew open, revealing the woman from the photo sent earlier.

This time, instead of a Halloween costume, she was wearing a bathrobe. Her smooth skin was darker than in the photo, and the picture you saw didn't do her eyes justice. Standing before you, you could see pools of emeralds she had been blessed with. Her freckles and moles danced across her body, making you look everywhere before you focused up and smiled as she did the same. "Hi." She softly spoke.

Her slightly accented voice makes you want to scream without the s.

"Hi." You smiled like an idiot, even extending your hand like one, too. "Y/N." Wanda smiled at your cuteness. "Wendy." She said, knowing you'd believe it. "So what do I owe the pleasure, Y/N?" Wanda stepped onto the front porch, coming closer to you. She was now at your level. A bit shorter than you, thanks to your heels.

The step down made her cock jiggle, not that you saw. You fumbled over your words, making Wendy smile and giggle. You froze and let a heatwave run over your body. That giggle of hers, you'd do anything to hear it again.

"Try again, sweetheart."

The pet name should've clued you into the fact that maybe Wendy already knew what you were doing here, but it didn't. You just smiled and started speaking while trying not to get lost in her eyes.

Oh, Tasha, she's so cute. Where did you get this one?

While you poorly explained the events that led you to having an app placed onto your phone, Wanda decided to look you over discretely.

Natasha dressed you. If the black on black on black wasn't a giveaway, then the peach lipstick would've been.

Wanda smiled as she watched your kissable peach-covered lips move. She was going to have fun with you.

Wanda's eyes quickly moved up your body again past the black heels that you'd be in all night and up your legs. Your dress stopping not even mid-way down your thighs.

Wanda was highly aware of what all of this meant.

"...so then, after seeing that cute costume, I accepted. I must say you're much more beautiful in person. Natalie didn't do you justice." You rambled, and Wanda picked up the name Natasha was going with. "Why thank you, Y/N." Wanda smiled before opening her mouth again.

"I know you said this was your first time using this.. app.. but have you ever done something like this?" Wanda needed to know. You slowly shook your head, and Wanda had to do her best to keep her lips from spreading into a wide smile. "Good." She said. "Good."

You watched Wendy look you over once more. "You look stunning, Y/N. I'm lucky to have you tonight." You opened your mouth in shock. "No, Wendy, believe me. I'm the lucky one." She smiled at you before turning around and opening her door wide for you to follow her in. "We'll see."

Natasha watched you follow her wife inside on the ring camera and slowly moved her hand over her clothed pussy, still wet from when she saw Wanda's cock.

Your heels were loud against the hardwood floor of the modern house in the middle of nowhere. "It's beautiful." You looked around as you followed Wendy into a giant kitchen. "Thank you. Natas- Natalie and I designed it ourselves." Wanda quickly looked into the corner of the ceiling, the red light on.

"Could I interest you in anything to drink?" Wendy walked to the other side of the kitchen island. You were about to answer when you closed your mouth shut as your eyes landed on the woman's green eyes staring back at you. Her robe was no longer closed like it was moments ago. Instead, it was strategically open—a clear view of Wendy's side boobs and flat stomach. You could now pinpoint a mole on her left breast. You licked your lips as she leaned forward over the island. Her lower half was still a mystery to you as her boobs threaded to spill out.

"I- I-" You stuttered, forcing Wendy to lean up and smirk at you. "You really haven't done anything like this before. Aren't you adorable?" She said the second sentence under her breath, but you heard her.

That made your legs press together.

Through the laptop screen, Natasha smirked, too. Wanda and Natasha were always teaching each other things. But the ability to flirt and get what you want was masterfully taught to Wanda over the years. "You're doing so good, baby.." Natasha moaned as her finger brushed over her covered clit.

"Here, we'll start with some water." Wendy turned away from you, opening their fridge and pulling out a water bottle. She opened it quickly and set it down near her. "Come here." She spoke softly to you. You swallowed and made your way across the kitchen. The only noise in the house being your heels.

Wanda closed a drawer and placed a straw in your bottle as you stopped before her. Still unaware of the surprise under the robe. "I wouldn't want you to mess up your lipstick."

Not yet.

"Thank you." You awkwardly smiled and took the bottle from Wendy, who watched you drink it like a proud mother. "Good job." She whispered as her right hand pushed some of your loose hairs behind your ear. Her delicate fingers moved down behind your ears and to your neck. Stopping there. "Finished?" She asked as her other hand reached and grabbed the water bottle from you. You nodded as Wendy took a sip as well.

The cold contact from the water made goosebumps appear all over Wendy's body.

Wanda gasped and had a giant smile form as her nipples became hard and brushed up against the robe concealing them. Her eyes pierced through you as you smiled back at her. Your eyes quickly moving up from Wanda's cleavage. "Y/N?" She asked, setting the water down. "I'd like to ask a couple of questions that maybe my wife didn't ask or maybe things she already knows. If that's okay?"

You nodded.

"I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." Wendy gently but sternly reminded you as she ran her cold hands over your dress down to your hips, where she kept them in place. "How old are you?"

"25." You replied, making Wendy's face light up. "Wow. Still so young.." Wendy bit her lip. "Do you have a girlfriend?" You shook your head, earning a squeeze on the hips from Wendy. You did your best to hold in a moan but lightly failed. "Speak up, baby." Wanda teased.

"No girlfriend." Wanda smiled. "Good girl. Boyfriend?"

You quickly shook your head and told her no, making Wendy laugh. "Even better, detka.." She whispered as your breath became more erratic. "Safe word?" She asked.

You shook your head before speaking up. "Never had one before." For a split second, Wanda felt bad that you never had one, but her eyes sparkled with wild thoughts. "Mango. That's the word we'll use." The older woman decided. "Don't be afraid to use it either. It stops all actions and can keep you safe. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl."

Natasha watched as her wife's hands moved from your hips to behind your back, right above your ass. Wanda was slowly pushing more and more into your space. Your lower back up against the kitchen island.

"Come on, Wanda, show her the camera..." Natasha pleaded.

"You can put your hands on me," Wendy spoke as she watched your hands rise and fall. "Go ahead. Touch me." She looked up to you. You placed your hands on her shoulder, still covered by the robe. "Are you nervous?" You both knew the answer, but Wanda wanted to hear you say it. "Yes."

"That's okay." Wendy's eyes sparkled. "Pretty soon, you won't be." That made your stomach flip positively. You think. "Here..." Wendy quickly removed her hands from you and pushed herself away. Covering her body with the robe again and leaning on the counter a couple of feet away from you.

You wanted to whine at the loss of contact and the sight of her body, but you didn't. Instead, you looked shocked. "I'll start slow and help ease you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl." Your cheeks went red again, but Wendy didn't stop to comment on it. "To help tonight go smoothly for you, I'm going to be honest." Wanda looked at the camera and back to you. "Wendy is not my name. It's Wanda. My wife is Natasha, not Natalie."

That definitely didn't help your nerves, but it made you feel better knowing that maybe they lied because for a good reason. "I trust you not to tell anybody about it tonight, so there's no harm in telling you our real names."

"Oh... okay. Is it a safety thing?" You asked as your nerves settled a bit. Wen-Wanda nodded. "Yeah. Something like that." You nodded back. "Will Natasha be mad?"

"She's probably a little annoyed as we're speaking, but come tomorrow morning, she'll be just fine. Don't you worry about her." Wanda scrunched her nose up at you as she took a step closer. You looked at her fondly as her eyes grazed over you. In a normal conversation, she's still a goddess.

How can she even be looking at me?

Wanda played with the large belt of her robe before letting the ends causally fall. You watch in one quick motion. Wanda slipped a shoulder out of her robe as she approached you. "Y/N.." She breathed out as you lifted your hand to touch her bare skin. The minuscule divots in your thumb smoothing over her shoulder. "Yes.." Your voice lost itself as you felt a yearning build deep within you.

"I want you to look at me," Wanda commanded, watching your eyes find hers.

She took a step towards you. "Y/N, in the corner of the ceiling, there is a camera with a red light on under it. That's Natasha. So I want you to say hi. Okay? Tell her that her wife is in good hands tonight. You do that, and you can touch more than just my shoulder... Is that something you want Y/N?" Before you can respond, she says:

"Because I want you to touch me."

Wanda bites her bottom lip and watches as you process this information. The two of you becoming wetter with every passing second. Especially when Wanda lays her left hand on the inside of your left thigh. "Tell her hi, baby.."

You close your eyes as the feeling of Wanda's hand on you burns, but it feels so fucking good. You turn your head and open your eyes to the red light in the corner. "Hi Natasha.." You pant as Wanda's hand rises. "Keep going." She says, like you're not struggling already. Fuck it has been a while since you got laid. "Your wife is in.. good hands t-tonight."

You turn back to Wanda, who surprises you by jumping into you and kissing you. You melt as your lips collide. A moan slipping through your lips. You inhale Wanda for the first time tonight and smell lavender. Her body falls on yours, and you wrap your arms tightly around her, pulling her closer, hoping to relieve the pressure between your legs.

But that's when you feel it and moan into Wanda's smirking mouth. "Wanda!" You moan again as Wanda pushes into you harder this time. "Oh, Y/N!" Wanda removes her lips from yours and sends them down your chin before latching onto your neck. Kisses slowly morph into bites and marks of territory.

After all, you were hers for tonight.

Natasha watches your breaths become ragged as you throw your head back and moan loudly. Natasha pants and moans her wife's own name as she slides two fingers up and down her wet clit before slowly putting her middle and ring finger into her needy pussy.

"Oh, Wanda! Fuck!"

"Take my robe off!" Wanda looks up at you, detaching her mouth from your red collarbone. You nod and make work of the robe before it falls to the floor, revealing Wanda and her heavenly body. You push her by her shoulders to get a good look at her.

Perfection. That is all that comes to mind.

"Natasha is lucky." You reiterate your point from earlier as you look down at her body. You're in awe even when your eyes land on the real surprise of tonight.

"Look at how wet you've already gotten it, Y/N."

You do, indeed, take a closer look and see that down the tip of the fake cock is your wetness. "No panties, baby?" Wanda asks in a voice that makes your brain short-circuit. You shake your head. "No panties, Mommy."

You, Wanda, and Natasha all went wide-eyed at that.

Your therapist is going to have more issues to work out next Thursday.

Wanda quickly recovered, unlike you, and took steps closer until she was right up against you like before. The tip of her cock sliding through your wet lips. Earning a visceral moan. "Just wait till later.." Her words hit your burning ears. You nodded and almost begged her to just fuck you right there, but Wanda placed her hands on your hands, stopping you from touching her. Her hips moving forward and back at a quicker pace as she placed kisses on your neck once again.

You couldn't process words, much less speak, at this moment.

You shrieked when Wanda bit you hard. You squirmed when Wanda's mouth didn't stop leaving darker marks than before. "Y/N.." She groaned. "I want you to thank Natasha for this." Your mouth hung open as the length of the cock continuously slid up and down your wet pussy. "Thank her for the both of us. Can you do that?" You wanted to say yes, but the feeling of pure bliss was coming, and you didn't want it to stop.

Neither did Wanda, but this was just light fun. This was the first phase.

Once you two made it upstairs, that's when the real fun would begin.

But for now, the hunping began to slow, as did Wanda's kisses on your neck.

She lifted her head and let go of your hands. Her cock remained still as she took her hands to your face. Pulling your chin down to look at her. "Don't make this difficult," Wanda warned you as you were coming down from your non-orgasm. You went to nod, but Wanda's other hand touched you. While Wanda's shaft was up against your thighs and pussy her fingers found your clit. Soaked and desperate for attention again, she slowly began circling it with precision.

"Look at the camera and thank my wife. Thank Natasha." Her pace increased, as did your breathing. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth.

"Thank-k.." Wanda's other hand reached your back and held you in place. "Keep going, Y/N."

"Th-thank you-u..." You moaned loudly. "Wanda!" "Don't stop!" Her middle finger was now helping you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Natasha-ah! Thank you!" You squealed as Wanda's fingers immediately left you. In an instant, your back slammed against the kitchen island as Wanda thrusted her cock against your clit. You stumbled in your heels and fell back onto the countertop. Your open legs and wet thighs on display for Wanda thanks to your dress riding up.

Wanda was in love with your body.

Meanwhile, you had yet to cum. You had never experienced something like this, and you were so thankful that it wasn't going to stop. "Come here." Wanda reached up and grabbed you by your wrists. Pulling you off the countertop and in front of her yet again. "Strip!"

You stumbled again as you tried to find your footing. Two times, you had been denied an orgasm, yet you couldn't help but feel a little shy and smile as you nodded and went to take your heels off for Wanda. But she stopped you forcefully, grabbing you by your arm. "Y/N.." She looked at your furrowed brows. "We talked about this earlier. I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." You nodded again. She was right. "I'm sorry."

Then, a smile appeared on Wanda's face. "There we go. But what else do we say? I'm sorry..." You tilted your head at her before it dawned on you. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Wanda smiled wider and leaned forward to kiss you. "That's my girl. I'm sorry I had to grab you like that, but I want you to be good. Okay?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Okay. Now, I only want you to strip out of the dress. Keep the tights and heels on for me." You nodded again as Wanda pulled you away from the kitchen and island and more towards the open space of the giant room. Closer to the camera. "Do it here." She turned to you and waited for you to get to work. Once you started, a smile never left Wanda's face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." She said again, making you blush. "Isn't she Nat?" Wanda looked up to the camera while she walked around you. Hand stroking her wet cock.

All thanks to you.

Natasha twitched as her wet fingers slid over her swollen clit. She smiled and watched your dress hit the floor. "She's adorable," Natasha spoke to herself. But Wanda knew. She also knew Natasha was going to thoroughly enjoy what was to come.

You weren't sure what to do. Well, you knew you wanted to have sex; no, sorry, that's wrong- You knew you wanted to be fucked by Wanda, but you were in no position to make demands or ask questions. Since you stepped foot into this house, Wanda was in charge.

And you didn't want to upset Mommy.

So your anticipation built over the next few seconds as Wanda stared at your body. You could see it in her eyes that she was fascinated with you, which was nice. It felt terrific. But all you wanted was her touch again. To actually feel her again!

So when Wanda stepped right over your dress and put her hands on your body, you let out a moan just for her. Your thighs clamped together just as her lips found their way to your nipple, sucking it into her mouth, biting your breast. Her left hand landed on your other boob. Her fingers trailed to push it up and take it into her hand. Groping you. The rough feeling sending waves of pleasure all over your body. Her other hand found its way to your hip bone. Kneading and pulling you close. Forcing your wet thighs to push up against her cock. Begging for an opening.

You rolled your eyes back and spread your legs for Wanda's cock to slide right in and over your core. Both of your stomachs slamming into one another, making you put your hands on Wanda's back. Pulling her close. "Someone's desperate." She chuckled as you squirmed and nodded.

You wanted it so bad.

But you were denied once again as Wanda began to pull back. You immediately refocused your eyes and looked down at Wanda with a plead stuck in your throat as she lifted her mouth off your boob.

"Does someone want to cum?"

You nodded. "Please." Wanda smiled at that and kissed your chest up to your neck. Her cock sliding up and down your pussy. "Not yet." You went to whine, but Wanda stopped you. "Not here. Let's go upstairs." You looked down at Wanda to make sure she was serious.

Wanda slowly pulled her long red silicone cock from in between your thighs and grabbed your hand to lead you. "We'll go slow. Just follow me." You nodded and slowly did follow Wanda.

No matter how close, your legs felt like jelly.

"What about Natasha?" You asked as you hit the first step. "You'll be seeing her soon," Wanda replied with a smirk you didn't see.

The same style used throughout the house continued into the bedroom, shared by the woman placing you on the soft bed and the woman somewhere else watching you through a camera.

It was cute, and it seemed to suit Wanda for the most part.

"That's Natasha's side," Wanda said as she came back to you from closing the bedroom door. You went to move, but Wanda stopped you. "Don't." Stern but gentle. You were picking up that that's how Wanda was. She was caring, giving, and someone who you could easily trust. But slowly, she showed you she can be strong, disciplined, and hard.

No pun intended.

"Scoot back a bit." You did as you were told and moved your ass away from the edge. Wanda sat down on the bed right next to you. You felt her soft legs brush up against your own, making you react. "You've been wonderful so far tonight, Y/N." Wanda's left hand started rubbing up and down your thigh. Your kegs spreading themselves open without being told. "See." Wanda brings her hand closer to your center. "You're so good. I know you can't wait to have my cock inside you, huh?" You rolled your head over to Wanda as your body begins to buckle as her hand brushes over your clit.

You have never been teased for this long.

"I can't wait, Mommy." You whine. Wanda smiles. "Thank you for being honest, baby." She leans into you and kisses your lips. Each kiss becomes shorter as your moans grow louder.

Wanda keeps her hand touching your wet folds, only stopping to grab your hand and place it on her cock. You freeze momentarily. "It's okay." Wanda breaths over your ear. "I just want to feel your hand jerk me off. Just for a bit, baby." Wanda kisses the side of your face and is happy when your hand slowly goes up and down her length. The action causing the inside of the strap to push up against Wanda's clit. "What's the safe word Y/N?"

"Mango."

Wanda hums. "Mommy is so proud of you." Wanda moans before her hand slips down, finally inserting two fingers inside you.

Through the camera in the corner, Natasha watches you moan the loudest you have all night. A smile on her face as the naked redhead flops her head back to her pillow as she works herself closer to another orgasm of the night. "Fuck her, Wanda. Make her your slut."

You continue pumping Wanda's cock as you feel yourself tighten around her fingers. You try not to, but you fall flat on your back as the pleasure is reaching its tipping point. "Oh god. You're so tight, Y/N! My cock is going to wreck that pretty pussy of yours!" Wanda is overjoyed at the sight of your body covered in sweat as her two fingers slide in and out of you. The faster and faster she goes, you shut your eyes tight as the pressure builds. You let out a vital moan as you feel the bed shift.

Wanda, getting up on her knees, moves her body closer to you. Your hand still on her cock lazily jerking her off as Wanda doesn't stop her assault on your pussy. "Is someone going to cum?" Wanda asks through ragged breaths as she's having just as much fun as you. Your mouth drops open, and you go to speak. But you just moan as your eyes roll back. "Going to cum for me, baby? Is my Y/N going to cum?" Wanda teases as her fingers curl inside of you. "Answer me." She demands but doesn't slow down.

"Ye-s! Momm- fuck!! I'm going to cu-mmm! I want cum so bad! Can I cum?!" The rest of the words get lost in your throat as Wanda pulls your legs back and has you spread so she can pump her fingers deeper into you. "You want to cum for me?" You rapidly nod as your brain goes dizzy. Wanda smiles as she runs her left hand through your hair before pulling the back of your head up. "Cum for Mommy!" That puts you over the edge. Your legs shake. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming. Oh my god! I'm cumming!"

Hearing your moans and pleas pushes Natasha to cum at the same time you do. A bliss-filled smile on her face as she removes her right hand from her center but keeps her left hand pressed on her throat until she's close enough to see stars.

She wonders if Wanda will do that to you tonight.

"That's it, baby." Wanda praises you as you come down from your high. Her fingers coated in you as she pulls out, making you whine at the loss. "It's okay," Wanda says, but when you look over, her eyes are on her hand. Not you. She also knows you're watching but doesn't pay you any attention as she slips her two Y/N-coated fingers into her mouth.

She moans and savors the taste of you.

She would never admit it, but you were almost more addicting than Natasha.

You tasted sweet, and Wanda wanted more. You watch her hand silently reach down to your spread pussy and slide the same two fingers between your folds. Careful not to brush past your clit.

She knew how sensitive it was at the moment.

You watch the finger shine in the bedroom's light before her tongue runs up the length of her middle finger before she finally looks at you. "Have you ever tasted yourself?" You shook your head. "No, Mommy." Wanda brings her fingers to you. "Open for me." You let your mouth drop open. Tongue flat as Wanda's fingers lay down on the pink bed. You close your lips and suck on her fingers.

A moan gets stuck in your throat.

You love the way you taste.

"I taste good, Mommy." Wanda smiles at you widely and nods. "Yes, you do, Y/N." She would like to think that she finger fucked you, dumb. Made you a submissive pet. To be hers. But Wanda doesn't know you.

She doesn't know how correct she'd be.

She doesn't know that you just had one of the best orgasms of what you're now realizing is a pretty bland, sex-filled life.

She doesn't know that something did happen when her fingers were inside of you. A switch got flicked on. Not only were you hers for tonight. But you wanted to be Wanda's for every night. You wanted more.

One app turned you into a dumb submissive little slut.

Your eyes dropped from Wanda's to see your hand was still on her fake cock. "Mommy?" You asked. "Yes." Wanda tilted her head with a smile. "I want more." You said, bringing your eyes up to hers. Both are blown out with lust. "I want your cock."

Wanda giggled, making it jump. "Where do you want my cock?"

Before you could answer, a cell phone started to ring. You knew it wasn't yours based on the ringtone and Wanda's reaction of looking in the corner at the camera. "Hold on." Wanda gently let go of your head and moved off the bed to her bedside table. Your lips curled into a smile as you watched her 7-inches jump with every step.

As Wanda picked the phone up, you looked over her body once more. You couldn't believe the natural beauty she had. Her body was yours to worship. Well, yours and "Natasha!" Wanda exclaimed purposefully.

You looked up at Wanda, holding her phone up.

FaceTime call, you thought.

You move your body slightly to lay more in the middle of the bed. Your head closer to the pillows than before. You try not to listen to Wanda and her wife's private conversation just in case it's important, but when "she's being such a good girl" gets said, you turn your head to Wanda, who is already looking at you. She winks at you, causing your stomach to flip and a giddy smile to appear on your face. "You missed her tasting herself?!" Wanda makes a gasping sound. "Tasha!"

"Give the phone to her Wands." Wandaobeys her wife, crawls onto the bed, and gives you the phone. On the screen is Natasha lying on a bed with her red hair sprawled out behind her. Her green eyes piercing you through the screen. She looks so fucking beautiful. More so than the photos on the hush. You see why her and Wanda are together.

It made a wave of jealousy wash over you before remembering the reason you were here.

You leaned up against the pillows as Natasha looked over your face. You quickly peered over the phone to see Wanda on her knees in front of your center. You smiled and wrapped your legs around her. Her mind getting the message, bringing her hands up and down your thighs. Just her touch was enough to make you hold in a moan.

"You've been doing so well, Y/N," Natasha told you. "Thank you." You shyly replied. "Don't be nervous just because I'm here now."

"You were always here," Wanda added, making Natasha wave her off. But only you could see it being in a smile to you. "Mommy says you taste sweet. Do you agree?" It'sthenthat you notice Natasha's right arm appears to be moving out of frame from the camera.

Natasha was fingering herself to you.

And she called Wanda Mommy.

"Yes, I do. Mommy's right." That made Natasha buck against herself, and you felt pride in making that happen. But your face of pride quickly disappeared when you felt Wanda's cock rub up and down your wet pussy. The tip sliding across your clit. Her movement growing faster. "Wand-mommy!" You moaned.

"Daddy just wants to see you taste yourself."

Daddy? But before you could question what you already knew, Wanda accidentally pushed half the length of the cock into you. Making you scream in pleasure because you and your pussy needed it.

You held tight to the phone as Wanda didn't give you time to adjust to the size before she started pulling back out of you. Your body practically going limp as you tried your best to remain strong for Mommy. And Daddy. "Take it, Y/N. It's okay. It's okay!" Your eyes focused back to Natasha as she wore a smirk. You nodded and saw Wanda smile.

"Come here." Wanda pulled out of you and reached down to place her hands on your arms. "Trust me, baby." She spoke softly as she started pulling you onto your black, tight, covered knees. You didn't realize that she grabbed the phone away from you in the process.

Wanda held onto you as she moved to the edge of the bed. She slid off to stand straight up but kept you on it. That's when you realized. With an arch of the back and on your knees, you were face to face with Wanda's cock. The very same that's covered in you.

"Go ahead." You looked up to see Wanda and the phone looking down at you. "See how you taste on Mommy's cock." Daddy said. "I-" You started to speak but stopped. Feeling a little embarrassed. "Have you never-" Wanda started but stopped when you spoke over her. "No, I have! It's just been a long time." Wanda's eyes soften. "I'll be gentle. Remember the safe word?" You nodded. "Mango."

"That's right, baby. Mommy will take good care of you. This is just for Daddy. Okay?" You nodded once again. "Okay."

"She's so good for you," Natasha said to Wanda as you got closer to her cock.

Just like with Wanda's fingers earlier, the fake cock showed how wet you had gotten it in the light of Mommy and Daddy's bedroom. You looked up to Wanda and Natasha. The former gives you an encouraging smile.

You reached your hand out to the cock and began stroking it before bringing your mouth to the base. With your tongue flat against it, you licked up from the bottom to the top. The ridges and feeling of it made you smile as the taste of your own wet pussy landed in your mouth. "Oh god." You heard Daddy moan.

You repeated the process again and again to ease yourself into the act. Soon enough, the tip of the cock was entering your mouth. "Let me know when it's okay for me to move Y/N." You looked up to Wanda and nodded as you pushed another inch into your mouth. Thankful for Wanda choosing now to be extremely kind.

You pulled your mouth off the cock and let a string of salvia fall to your chin. Wanda's hand was quick to wipe it away. "You're doing so good. Daddy is proud of you." You smiled widely and started stroking the cock faster as your mouth sank lower onto it. You gagged, of course, but that didn't stop you. You simply swallowed and kept pumping Wanda's cock into your mouth. Your tongue running up and down it as the cock felt good against your soft lips.

When you reached the halfway point, Wanda placed a hand on your head and started to move her hips.

"Mommy's getting a little restless, Y/N."

With the cock still in your mouth and tears welding in your eyes, you looked up to see Wanda with her head thrown back, pushing the cocking further into you. "Oh fuck." Wanda exclaimed, making you moan at the sight before gagging again. "Baby, it feels so good on my clit. Oh my god!" Wanda moaned as the vibrations from your gag had her hands tighten in your hair. "Don't stop, Y/N!"

You weren't going to. If Wanda was going to cum you wanted to be the one to do it.

Determined, you brought a hand up and placed it on the back of Wanda's thigh, pushing her more into you. The cock sliding down your throat. "Oh baby, you're such a fucking slut!" Daddy spoke through her own moans as she watched her wife fuck your mouth. Wanda nodded in agreement and started pushing your head onto the strap.

The sounds of the wet cock, your gags, and the three of you moaning being the only thing to fill the room.

You made sure to push the base of the strap with every jerk you gave it, so it made Wanda buckle. Her moans and breaths becoming inconsistent. "Keep going, Y/N! Make her cum! Make Mommy cum!" You could hear Natasha's fingers rapidly fucking her pussy. You swirled your tongue around the shaft and moaned one last time before you pulled your head back. Letting the cock slide down your tongue out of your mouth. Coating your chin and chest as salvia dripped off of it.

You swallowed what you had left in your mouth and brought your hands up to Wanda's strap. You began to jerk it off, staring straight up at the camera. "Daddy, I want you to cum too. I want you to cum for me. I want you and Mommy to cum all over me." You acted like a slut for the two of them.

Natasha knew it couldn't happen, but goddamn if she wouldn't shoot loads all over that pretty face of yours.

Meanwhile, Wanda had her eyes on you again. Blown out and fully aware of the orgasm she was about to have. The center of the strap pushing back into her pussy and clit was enough to take her to the edge. But you. You on the bed, jerking her off.

That's what made her cum. Her green eyes looking into you. "Don't stop, baby. Don't stop, Y/N! Oh my God. Oh-ooh, my God!!!" Wanda gripped your hair harder than ever before as her eyes rolled back. Fingers holding your skull still.

The inside of the hardness ruined as she came.

At the same time, hearing her wife moan your name. Moan for you. Natasha came. Natasha came for you.

You sat on the bed as Wanda held you still. You were in awe as you watched Wanda start to come down from her climax. Her body was now in a glow of sweat that made her look sexier than ever. The grips on you loosened. For a split second, you swear you saw her green eyes turn red. But when she looked in your direction, you saw how soft they were. She smiled. You smiled back and got up on your knees. You grabbed the phone as it was about to slip from Wanda's hand. When you looked, you saw Natasha still recovering. "You did so good." You said to both of them, but mainly Wanda, in a hushed tone before pulling her close to you, and with Natasha watching, you kissed her wife on the lips.

She responded by pushing her lips into yours and putting her hands on your body to steady herself from almost falling.

Jelly legs and all.

"Let's get me out of this." You nodded and giggled as she did, too. With help from Natasha on the other end of the phone propped up on her bedside table, the harness finally fell to the floor.

Wanda sat back down on the bed and pulled your body in between her legs. With you still in your heels, her face was at eye level with your stomach. Her hands placed themselves on your ass, moving them up and down as her pink lips started kissing your stomach.

You blushed hard as not everything about tonight was new, but this was. This was intimate and special. And you couldn't do anything but love it. Your cheeks became more pink as you grew wetter with each kiss and lick Wanda's mouth left on you. Your hands placed themselves on her head. This time, it was your turn to run your hands through her hair.

You moved back a bit, but to place a kiss on top of Wanda's head, this made the older woman look up at you.

She reached up and pulled your chin down. A gentle kiss placed on your lips. "Come here." She whispered as your body fell onto the bed with hers.

Legs quickly become intertwined as her arms wrap around you. Her mouth immediately attaches to your collarbone as your breath moans into her ear. "Thank you." She moans as your hands grab onto her sides. "Thank you for tonight, Y/N."

You shake your head and kiss her forehead, making her look up at you before you kissed her face and lips. You never want to stop doing that. "No, Wanda.. thank you and Natasha."

You looked into each other's eyes. You realized another thing about tonight right then and there. A one-night stand or a relationship never made you feel how you felt in this moment.

Wanda had only ever felt this way about one person before.

Natasha watched the two of you and smiled. She succeeded in her mission for her wife to have a night like tonight.

Come morning, that app would be off your phone, and there would be no need for Natasha to ever use it for you again—and Vice versa.

Natasha watched you lean down and kiss Wanda's collarbone. Slowly working your way to her chest, kissing over her little moles and freckles. Wanda smiled and moaned at certain spots. "Y/N?" She said, looking down at you. "Yes?"

"I want you to take off your heels and tights."

You looked down and back up. "Are you sure?" Wanda nodded, yet you still looked at the phone for Natasha's confirmation. "Do what she says, detka." You sat up on the bed as the two watched you.

"What does detka mean?" You asked as you placed the right heel down. Wanda took the question. "It means baby, honey, sweetie. It's a term of endearment." You made an "ah" noise and took off your tights. "Any other questions?" Wanda teased.

That made a lightbulb go off. "Yeah..." You briefly looked at Natasha, who looked sleepy (probably due to the 4 orgasms she had) before looking at Wanda. "Nat- Daddy made me wear peach-colored lipstick. Why?" You were now fully nude for the first time tonight, making you feel free and closer to Wanda.

Just like she wanted.

You got on your knees and crawled your way up to the bed before flopping back down into the position you were in earlier. Your legs intertwined with Wanda. Arms around one another. Face to face. Wanda kissed you. "That's a good question." She laughed. "You see... before Natasha and I said the I Do's. We were more open.. kinda like this.." Wanda rubbed her hand up and down your back. "Natasha would bring home pets, toys, and pretty girls like you." Wanda smiled at the memory. But her eyes focused back on you. "And do you know what they always wore?"

"Peach." You responded to Wanda's praise.

"But don't worry, Y/N." Wanda pushed her head closer to you. To lay it on your shoulder. "None of them were ever like you." She kissed your shoulder. You kissed her head.

You two sat in silence for a moment before Wanda disrupted it. "I want to cum one more time." She spoke in a hushed tone. You nodded. "Okay." You replied because you would be stupid not to.

Wanda untangled herself from you and looked back at Natasha and the phone. Only to see her wife passed out. Wanda let out a small chuckle before moving Natasha to the phone charge. Keeping the call active.

Wanda lays back down and motions you over. Her pearly white show themselves as you place your legs over her. Half your body on her—half on the bed.

You begin to kiss Wanda as softly as possible. Almost as slowly as you are soft, you drag your hand across her skin. You feel the goosebumps your breath against her face sends across her body. Wanda moans another kiss into your lips as her hand places itself around your wrist, directing you to feel how wet she is. "It's for you." She says into your ear before shrieking because of the bite you place on her. It didn't hurt her. It was just surprising.

Truth be told, you just wanted to leave a mark.

But the mark you would leave behind isn't one that's visible.

You moan into Wanda as you slip your fingers inside her for the first time tonight. "You're so tight." Wanda whimpers as you don't slow. "Please keep going!" You push her one leg to the side with your knee so she can spread her pussy for you more. "Right there! Right there!"

Wanda wraps her arms around and holds on as you curl your fingers, hitting her spot. "Don't stop. Oh my god! Y/N Please Don't!" Wanda's mouth drops before slamming shut as the point is approaching. "You wanna cum?" You ask as you stare at her with her eyes closed shut. "Wanda wants to cum?"

This was your first time in the bedroom calling her Wanda.

She opens her eyes, shocked, but her face is flushed and red. Contorting as she is close. "Yes Y/N! Please let me cum!" She looks at you, pleading. "Moan into me as you cum. You can cum baby. Okay? Cum for me, Wanda. It's okay!" You and Wanda crash your lips into one another as she tightens around you. She smacks your thumb away from clit as she cums. Your fingers become coated in her, and you feel like you've just won the lottery. "That's it. That's it! Ride it out." You coax her and leave a trail of kisses across her forehead.

Her tight hold that her arms have around you loosens. Delicately, you pull your fingers out of her. Wanda winces and sighs at the loss of you. But is overjoyed with what just happened.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" You ask, half teasing, half not. "I have." You bring your fingers closer to your mouth, but Wanda's hand grabs your wrist. "But not from you." Before you can protest, your fingers are in her mouth. Her tongue runs over and in between your two fingers. Moaning at the taste. Because of you.

Wanda pulls your fingers out quicker than you'd like. "Well?" You ask, but instead of an answer, Wanda leans into you and puts a hand on the back of your head to keep you in place as she French kisses a mixture of you and her into your mouth. Your stomach erupts with butterflies as you taste Wanda. Both of your moans are muffled in each other's mouths. You continue to make out with one another.

Eventually, you two swallow and come up for air but find each other still in the same position even after silence, and your lingering touches are the only thing.

"Wanda..." You open and close your mouth. Unsure of what to say.

You look down at Wanda, whose head has fallen onto your arm, and see her with her eyes closed. Her breathing slow. She's fallen asleep. You peer over to the plugged-in phone and see Natasha the exact same as before. You don't want to disturb Wanda, and as much as you want to stay and help clean up. She's asleep, and she's not yours. Tonight, you were her's.

But tomorrow, she would not be yours.

Plus, as much as you'd want to have... this... be your life. You can't. Natasha paid you to do a job, and you did it...

With a heavy heart, you begin to untangle and move Wanda. It's not easy at first. It's like once she falls asleep, she has dumbbells attached to her. But eventually, you move and place her in a more comfortable position.

You scoot yourself to the edge of the bed and pick up your heels and tights. You look for your dress before remembering its in the kitchen downstairs. You make your way to the door of the bedroom and unlock it. Opening it, surprised to find out it doesn't creak like every door in every house you've ever had. "Huh." You open it wider and look back just in time to see Wanda crinkle her nose in her sleep and flop onto her side. You smile at her cuteness and pull the light switches down.

Yeah, they have that kind.

You close the door, but just before it closes, you take one last look at her figure lying on the bed, next to it on the table Natasha. You both give them a smile and shut the door.

Lucky for you, Wanda didn't turn out the kitchen lights, so instead of stumbling around in the dark, you find your dress on the floor easily. After tossing it into your hands, you begin to locate your phone. But for the love of God, you can't recall where you had it.

Your heels click as you walk from one side of the house to the other- "Y/N?!" You scream, jump, and almost break your ankles because of the voice from behind you. "Wanda!" You exclaim as you come down from your fright.

"What are you doing?" Wanda asks as she rubs sleep out of her eyes. "Me?! What about you? You're supposed to be sleeping?!" Wanda looks you over with a frown on her face; she says: "Are you leaving?"

The way she says those three words made you look at her like you just broke her heart. "Wanda-" She shakes her head and steps off the last step in the stairs. "Don't leave." She walks up to you and takes your hand in hers. Ignoring the guilty look on your face. "Come on." She starts to pull you, making you stumble before you stop and remove your hand free. "Wanda, stop!"

The Sokovian turns around and looks at you with hurt written on her. "I don't want you to leave," Wanda speaks up. You go to open your mouth and fight that you have to. That you can't stay. You would tell her that tonight was one of the best nights you have had in a long time. You'd say that feelings are bubbling under the surface after one night with you and Natasha, so imagine what would happen if you stayed. You want to say that this was a job, and that's it.

In another life, you do those things.

In another life, it works out. In some, it doesn't.

But here. In this one. You look at Wanda and drop your dress, tights, and heels on the floor.

"Till morning."

"Till morning." She repeats.

That night, you fell asleep with your arms wrapped around Wanda Maximoff.

In the morning, when Natasha Romanoff arrives. She smiles to see that the cameras were right. You never left.

In case it wasn't obvious. Natasha wanted to keep you around. For her and Wanda. So when she opened the bedroom door to confirm that yes, you were still here. Cuddled up with her wife, Wanda. Natasha widely smiled.

"Moya Lyubov," Natasha whispered as she sat on the edge of the bedroom next to her sleeping wife. She brushed hair that had fallen onto her face. But it was no use. Wanda was a dead weight when she slept.

That you didn't know. Which is why it's a wonder how or why Wanda woke up when you were trying to leave last night.

But you woke up when you heard whispering. When your eyes peeled open, you smiled before remembering that you weren't supposed to stay over. But Natasha must've sensed or seen the panic on your face. "It's okay. I'm glad this happened. I wanted it, too." Natasha spoke as her eyes went from Wanda to you.

Natasha sat there as she just looked at you and Wanda. "So now what?" You quietly asked, unsure of what to do. "Now.. this..." Natasha gestures to the three of you. "Transaction is done." She smiles, hurting you. "Oh." You take a breath. "Okay." You go to move, but Natasha stops you.

"This one is done." She says with a smirk that you pick up on. "Oh.. okay." You say again but with a smile, making Natasha laugh. "But you'll have to use the app every time." But Natasha just shook her head.

You never used that app again after the first night.

After one week, Natasha and Wanda stopped paying you. After one month, you had two girlfriends. After three months, their home became your home.

So yeah, Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck at some point in life.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

But that's where you came in.

Happily married to both.

dividers by @/benkeibear

590 notes · View notes

littledata · 1 month

Text

@princington's amazing art brought me back to this fic so have a little extra for them.

There are many, many terrible things about dating Beatrice.

For example: she manages to wake up at six AM every single morning to go jogging and comes home looking sweaty and sexy while Ava is still dealing with bedhead. She's also organised to the point of insanity and remembers every important date, even the ones Ava didn't realise she knew (like the date she opened the coffee shop. They hadn't even met for fuck's sake), and manages to swoop in with a thoughtful gift or kind word to mark the occasion. Meanwhile, Ava is still scribbling DON'T FORGET DENTIST - TUESDAY?? on the back of her hand like a high schooler.

And if all of that wasn't horrible enough, even after almost a year of dating, Beatrice can still roll up the cuffs of her sleeves or adjust her glasses or recite some complicated piece of research, and Ava winds up hopelessly turned on in public on the regular.

It sucks, actually. Ava's life is awful.

None of that is the worst part of it though. The worst part of dating Beatrice, who is sexy and thoughtful and intelligent, is that she's fucking impossible to buy gifts for.

Beatrice doesn't actually want anything is half the problem. She reads a lot of books but she mostly checks them out from the university library. She drinks a lot of tea, but Ava runs a coffee shop. If her girlfriend wants tea, she has a store room full of it. Other than that, she mostly likes crosswords, the gym, her friends, and… well. Ava.

It's making planning for the first birthday Beatrice has had since they've been together exceptionally stressful. Particularly since Ava knows for a fact that Beatrice's parents believed in a "socks and school supplies" style of gift giving which, as far as she's concerned, barely even count.

"What are you getting Bea for her birthday?" she whispers conspiriatorially to Camila one Saturday afternoon in Mary and Shannon's back yard. Beatrice herself is bouncing the baby on her knee and debating some obscure scientific hypothesis - something about mold. Ava is surprised to find she actually has an opinion on the topic. Probably all those mold documentaries.

Camila snorts, "Have you just figured out she's impossible to buy for?"

"Yes," Ava stresses, "C'mon, what are you getting her? And if it's really good I'm stealing your idea."

"Oh no." Camila shakes her head, "It took me all year to think of something. You're on your own."

"Cam." Ava tries her best pleading, puppy dog eyes. They don't work nearly as well on Camila as they do on Beatrice.

"Ava." Camila pats her hand comiseratingly, "Just get her what every self-respecting lesbian wants for their birthday."

Ava frowns, "Power tools?"

Camila smirks, "Strap-on and lingerie."

So that conversation was entirely useless - mostly because Ava already owns more than enough of both those things and they sort of seem like a gift for both of them more than just Beatrice. And more than anything else, Ava wants her girlfriend to feel special. Like she's worth something great that's for her and only her.

Shannon is her next port of call. Ava corners her in the kitchen where she's refilling drinks and, probably pre-warned by Camila, looks entirely unsurprised to be accosted.

"We normally order some of the gross British candy she likes," Shannon informs her. "And before you even try it - she knows that's what we get her every year, so don't try and steal the idea."

Ava groans despondently, "I'm hitting a wall here. What the fuck do you buy for someone who doesn't actually want anything?"

Beatrice does always say that her best friend is unreasonably logical and practical in her advice. For the first time, Ava understands her plight when Shannon shrugs and says, "Have you tried asking her?"

With nothing else to do, Ava tries. Admittedly, she probably picks a bad time to do it: she's shirtless and sitting cross-legged on their bed while Beatrice massages lotion into the new tattoo on her shoulder. Bea's fingers are gentle and thorough and very, extremely distracting.

"Hey," Ava says a little breathlessly, her eyes closed, "What do you want for your birthday?"

Beatrice, because she is Beatrice, says, "You don't have to get me anything."

Typical. This is why dating her is so difficult. "Obviously I do," Ava points out. "For my birthday you took me to a theme park even though it's your idea of actual, literal hell." Bea had even bought and worn a t-shirt that said "I RODE THE BIG ONE". Camila has the photograph framed in her office.

"Not actual, literal hell," Beatrice argues, "I enjoyed that you had fun."

"There's really nothing you want?" Ava asks.

Disappointingly, Beatrice's fingers stop their movement and she puts a cap on the lotion, moving off the bed behind Ava. "Is this what you were whispering with Camila and Shannon about earlier?"

"Maybe. They weren't helpful."

Beatrice's smile is affectionate, "They never are." She leans in to kiss her, her hand landing on Ava's bare shoulder and skirting over her neck, "I'd like to spend my birthday with you. That's all."

Ava wraps her arms aroud her shoulders and sighs, "Dating you is the worst."

"Mm, awful," Beatrice agrees, kissing the corner of her mouth and then her jaw. "Shall we break up?"

"Yep." Ava turns her head to press their lips together again and uses her distraction to lie back, pulling Beatrice down on top of her. "We're over."

(On her birthday, they drink tea in bed and do a crossword puzzle with Ava's head on Beatrice's shoulder. Later, they wander through a museum eating wine gums and holding hands. At Shannon and Mary's place, Beatrice unwraps the cordless drill that Ava bought for her.

"Thank you," she says, "It's just what I wanted.")

(Ava saves the strap-on and lingerie for later.)

#warrior nun #avatrice #extra writing

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beybaldes · 7 months

Text

Karma is the guy on AFC Richmond, coming straight home to me!

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent × gn!famous!reader (loosely inspired by Taylor swift and Travis Kelce)

summary: “kisses with a height difference” requested by two anons <33

an: okay you can actually thank the queen of my heart @onceuponaoneshotfanfic for my sudden (although potentially one night only we’ll see if I get my uni essay done lol) return because she reposted a celebrity prompt list and it got my mind whirring oops love you tally thank you for breaking my writers (and reading) block <33

“Hot.”

One simple word had sent your 68 million instagram followers into an absolute frenzy, and half of them, you were pretty sure, didn’t even know who Roy Kent was.

“‘So nice of them to put this football player on the map?’ They do know I was famous long before you ever were, right?” You only laughed as Roy grew more frustrated, allowing him to scroll through your Twitter account while you made the both of you some breakfast.

“Hey, maybe they have a point?” You tried to stifle your laughter, knowing Roy’s eyes would be sending daggers into your back, though only for a moment so he could continue winding himself up over the things people were tweeting. “I mean Richmond tickets have now sold out for the rest of the season.”

Roy knew you were only joking. Well, kind of. The two of you had been together for just over a year now, recently celebrating your one year anniversary, but besides the odd article about each of you potentially seeing someone, no one knew you were together - let alone that you even knew each other. Keeley had been blowing up Roy’s phone since she saw the comment demanding to meet you, her favourite superstar, and you’d woken up to 37 missed calls from your dad, furious you hadn’t told him you were dating Chelsea legend Roy Kent.

Above everything, you’re still in disbelief Roy tried to hard launch your relationship in the comment section if your most recent instagram post on a random Tuesday evening.

“Hmm, and I’m sure your next tour is going to sell out 10 times faster now the world knows you’re with the great Roy Kent.” Roy had given up on reading tweets speculating about what his comment meant and if the two of you were together, instead choosing to press his bare chest agains your back, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you finished up breakfast. Fortunately you knew, Roy Kent or not, your next tour was going to sellout. Though you’d rather have Roy be by your side for it.

“Maybe if I’m lucky.” Putting down your fork, you turned in Roy’s hold to face him, standing on the very tips of your toes to press a lovingly slow kiss to his lips. Since dating Roy, you were certain early mornings were for breakfasts that take too long to cook and kisses that end too soon for your liking. Roy’s grip on you tightened and he dipped his head slightly, making the kiss as easy on you as possible. When you began to pull away, he only ducked his head further to press his lips back against yours. “Mmm, although I’d already consider myself very lucky.”

“That you are.” Roy murmured against your lips, immediately pressing them flush against yours when he’d said his piece. “And so am I.”

an: okay short and sweet but I’m hoping to get back in to writing and get up to date with my requests now that I’m settled at uni and with my new job. Missed you guys hope you all are well <33

#beybaldes writes !!#beybaldes summer sleepover !!#ted lasso x reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent one shot #roy kent imagine #another banger another banger by onceuponaoneshotfanfic from tumblr.com

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eyesxxyou · 8 months

Text

Confessions pt.iii

♡ hobie brown x religious!reader

rating. m

word count. 7.7k

synopsis. after years of being missing, Hobie finally returns back to his hometown where his childhood crush still waits for him. but you're more dedicated to God than ever and he couldn't care less. he wants you and he intends show you all that you're missing out on

♡ °｡ ⋆⸜ warning: religious themes, straight up blasphemy, like serious sacrilege, abuse, a lot of angst, oral (m.recieving), mentions of other sexual acts (such as fingering, cumming in chest, masturbation, and outercourse), sex in church, riding, first time sex, squirting, confessions ;))), disownment, Hobie being a bit of an avoidant asshole

Part.ii

Hobie let you keep the pictures you took. “So you have something better to touch yourself to at night.” He winked at you as he neatly tucked the two pictures into your bra. Anywhere else, your parents might have found them. He was always thinking ahead, maybe a little further than you.

When Hobie took you home, he told you to tell your parents that the two of you went to the creek for bible study. You’ve never lied to your parents before. You weren’t sure you could do it. You wrung your hands against the gas tank of his motorcycle, the cold air whipping at your face as you flew down the streets. The streetlights were coming on, you had to be home soon. Hobie got you there in record time. Of course, breaking a few traffic laws along the way but he got you there.

You hopped off his bike, readjusting yourself and ensuring that you looked just the same as you did before you left. Hobie offered you back your rosary which you had almost forgotten completely and when you reached out for it, he grabbed your hand. “I don’ wanna wait ‘til next Sunday to see ya, luv. When do y’think we’ll have anotha bible study?”

You looked back at the front door to your house to find a shadow walking through the living room towards the front door. You took your rosary and retracted your hand quickly. “Tuesday after I get off of work. Now go, before they try to invite you inside.”

“I might’ jus’ stay then.”

You hit him on the shoulder and he laughed softly, eyeing the door cracking open over your shoulder. “I’ll see ya Tuesday, then. Keep yaself busy while ‘m gone.” He teased before ripping away on his motorcycle, leaving you flustered and overly aware of the two polaroid pictures pressed against your breast.

“Did he not want to come inside? I made dinner.” Your mother called from the front door. You looked back at her and shook your head. “No, Mama, he has to get somewhere.” You made your way inside. You kept your head low. You set your rosary down on the coffee table and removed your shoes beside the door, replacing them with house slippers.

Your father was already in the dining room eating and as you passed him, he stopped you with a question. “Where were you at?”

Your heart raced and your mouth dried up. You grabbed at your dress then fiddled with a braid from your hair. “With Hobie at the old playground. He finally opened up to listening to the word so I thought it might be good to do bible study together.” You glanced up to look at him, your eyes pleading for approval. You’ve never lied to them before and they had no reason to believe you were lying now.

“How often will you be doing bible studies?” Your mother asked. Your father continued eating, neither of them suspected a thing. You almost felt powerful, being able to keep this one thing to yourself. You knew something they didn't and it felt like a sort of control you were never before allowed in your life. You didn’t even feel guilty about it.

“Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.” It came out of you so easily. You stopped trembling and fiddling with yourself and went to go make yourself a plate.

That was the beginning of it, the beginning of everything. The lying, meeting with Hobie, exploring the pleasures of the body with him in the secret of his hotel room. You became someone new behind that door, every moment of it captured by his camera and printed out on his bed for you to later keep. He made you cum in ways you never knew was possible and you learned slowly how to make him cum too.

“Jus’ like– fuck, dove….ngh~ shit.” You sat between his legs with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, suckling and kissing. You haven’t gone any further than that for the past 2 minutes, too intimidated by his monstrous size to take any more of him into your mouth. “Jus’ a lil’ more tongue,” He hissed when you followed his command, your tongue timidly flicking from the underside of his tip to the end of his slit. You were a natural at this.

He had you bobbing your head soon enough, his hand on the back of your head to guide your motions. "Open tha’ mouth of ya’s a lil’ more, luv.” You opened your mouth a little further and kept your teeth back like he told you to. You hummed softly and it sent Hobie into a spiral.

You had him moaning, a hand pushing your head up and down on his fat cock, that pretty, little mouth of yours only able to go a little under half way before you began to gag. He grabbed his camera. "Look a' me, pretty girl." Your wet gaze flickered up at him, teary and gorgeous, drool dribbling down the rest of his cock. And when he came, he came, he pulled out from your mouth, jerking off over your face with your tongue hanging out of your mouth while he groaned your name and cursed you for being so pretty.

He came on your face, across your cheek, one of your eyes closed so it didn't get in, some landing on your tongue. He took a picture of that as well, letting the picture print out before grabbing your chin and slapping his cock against your cheek. "You're such a good, fuckin' girl."

Your heart always fluttered when he praised you, each meeting only solidifying what was always there, hiding beneath your love for God which was really only a redirection of your love for him. Did he notice the way you looked at him like he was Christ on Earth, the way you looked at him like he was all you ever wanted in your life. He couldn't be oblivious to the way you worshiped him, like he was your very own messiah.

He's shown you more in a few weeks than God has ever shown you in your entire life. He's shown you pleasures you never before thought existed, done things to you you never wanted anyone else to do. Yet, the two of you still have never had sex in the traditional sense. You've been close, let him rub his cock against your bare clit until you both came, but he never pushed into you, never broke your hymen as you were told happens when you have sex for the first time.

It made you feel better. Made you feel like if this all hit the fan, at least you'd have some semblance of your dignity still left with you, you wouldn't be completely ruined by him. As much as you loved Hobie, you did not trust him entirely to stay, did not trust him not to break your heart.

But you had to ask. Why didn't he want to? He never showed any interest at all to slide himself inside you and claim you as his. Did he truly mean to leave soon? Was it a kindness he was attempting to offer you?"

"Why don't you want to have sex with me… real sex, I mean?" You asked in something of a whisper as you lay in his bed naked, wrapped up in his sheets while he stood in his bathroom to wet a rag to clean you up. He had jerked himself over you and came on your chest because he liked your tits more than you could ever imagine and needed to see his cum on them. He had snapped a picture of it, of course, let you keep it. You’d take it home and store it in a shoebox tucked away in your closet, waiting until your parents were surely asleep before you took it out and chose one to touch yourself to.

Hobie never answered you, just shook his head and murmured something under your breath. “I's almost time for you to go home, isn’ i’? Le’s get’cha cleaned up, doll.” He left you to all your wild conclusions. He was going to leave soon, you figured. He was just trying to preserve something for you, let you have this one thing he hasn’t selfishly taken from you. At least now, clumsy touching down your body when you get married wouldn't be enough to impress you, not when you've felt the skillful hands of Hobie all over your body.

The ride back home was silent. There was a sudden distance between the two of you. Hobie had bought you your very own helmet after you voiced your own concerns about safety. Would he use this for another girl he meets once he leaves? The thought made your heart squeeze.

In front of your house, you hopped off of his bike and removed your helmet so he could strap it to the side of his motorcycle. Hobie could see the space you had placed between you two and attempted to backtrack to a time when you hadn’t become so upset with him.

“I’ll see ya Sunday… righ’, luv?” His voice was so beautiful, so gentle. Your heart soared and swooned for him. You looked him in the eyes and saw his lighthearted smile in them. It forced a smile onto your face. You bit your lips to hide it and twirled your finger around a braid as you nodded. “Fine.”

Hobie would have kissed you if you weren’t outside your parents house so he nodded softly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he revved up his bike and drove away. You watched him go, letting him round the corner before you turned on your toes and made your way inside the house.

There was no greeting when you came in, no warm smell of cooking in the air. You frowned, not taking the time to remove your shoes as you walked further into the house. “Mama, Daddy? You in here?” You turned the corner into the dining room and found your father sitting at the table with your mother standing behind him and a familiar shoebox sitting in the middle of the table.

Your heart dropped. It sank so low that it boiled in your stomach acid, so low that you thought you might throw it up. You mouth ran dry with fear. "Mama?…Daddy?"

"Get over here." Your father always had a rather authoritarian voice but you had never heard him so angry, so demanding. You lowered your head in shame and slowly, cautiously, made your way to the table, tears already dappling your cheeks. "Sit down." And you sat, your head still hanging low, your tears now falling onto the table and soaking into the tablecloth.

Your father grabbed the box, opened the lid, and dumped all the pictures onto the table. Your lips wrapped around Hobie's cock, his face clearly between your legs, cum on your chest, his long, slender fingers stuffing your cunt, and so much more. All of them incriminating you. Your mother turned her head away, unable to bear the idea of her sweet, innocent daughter participating in such acts.

Your father stood, his hands on the table, his imposing figure looming over you as you trembled beneath him. “Look at me.” His voice was low but dangerous. This was not a time to disobey him. You raised your head slowly, your bottom lip quivering with terror. His gaze was hard and unforgiving. This was not something you just brush off and forgive. How brutal it must be to figure out your daughter is nothing but a whore who’s been lying to you this entire time.

“Is that you in these photos?”

You sniffled, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. You hesitated, unsure of what to say.

“Don’t you even think of lying to me, girl. Is this you?”

You could do nothing except nod and in an instant, he brought his hand across your cheek and struck you. You cupped your aching cheek and sobbed, choking out apologies and begging for forgiveness in near incoherent babbles.

Your father paced the length of the dining room while your mother hurriedly picked up the photos and put them back into the box. She was the one who stumbled upon the photos after looking through your closest for a pair of shoes you had borrowed from her. She had cried as she brought the photos to your father who immediately became enraged. She mourned her young, innocent daughter who would have done no wrong before Hobie came back, her daughter who had fallen so far from grace.

“Honey, you can tell us if he forced you to do any of this.” Your mother so desperately wished you would place all the blame on Hobie, that you’d tell them he had tricked you into performing such acts so that you could still be pure, could still be blameless. No one had to know that way.

How could you do such a thing? You were an adult, you could make your own decisions about these things and you made it. You chose to do everything that happened between you and Hobie. You were just as at fault as he was. But you’d never throw him under the bus

“No, no Hobie didn’t force me to do anything. I made the choice myself.”

“You whore!” Your father barked at you. If your cheek wasn’t already swelling, he would have slapped you again. He paced again a little, running his hands down his face as he always did when he was stressed. Then he turned back to you. “Did you have intercourse?”

You shook your head. “No, we didn’t do…that,” you managed to say between hiccups. You used the backs of your hands to wipe your tears from your cheeks. “Nothing like that.”

“Good, you’re not completely ruined then.” There was something soul-crushing about hearing ones father tell them that they were ruined all because someone made them feel good. But sex ruined people here, you forgot. How absurd the idea seemed now. You didn't feel any less than you did before. In fact, you never felt better about yourself.

“You will not be seeing Hobart again. No talking, no looking, no breathing in his direction. I want zero interaction with him.”

“You can’t do that! I’m an adult!” You stood up from your seat and your father raised his hand to you again, ready to strike you back down. The threat made you sit back down, your lips sealing. Your father smacked his hand on the table in front of you. “You live in my house, you will abide by my rules. You’re acting like an insolent child. You have no idea what you’re doing. You will no longer interact with Hobart, you will no longer be doing anything that is non-essential. You will work, then come home, go to church, then come home. You will do this while your mother and I look for a suitor to take your hand because we cannot trust you to choose someone on your own.”

Shaking your head, you let out a tear-filled yet firm, “No.”

“No?”

“NO!” You refused. You couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t with Hobie, didn’t belong to him in every way, shape, and form. You’d rather become a nun before you married anyone who wasn’t him. Even if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe he’d leave again, maybe he’d put you in his rearview and find someone else but you’d always have a piece of him in your soul, you’d look at all your favorite things and find him there.

Your father fumed. You’ve never refused him before. It was the devil inside you, he concluded. You have been possessed by a demon because his daughter would never act in such a way. He took you by the bicep and began to drag you through the house and up the stairs to your room.

Your mother said nothing to discourage him, did nothing to stop him. Never before had you ever felt more betrayed. The one person in the world meant to protect you and she simply stood by and watched him brutalize you. His grip would later leave a giant hand-shaped bruise on your arm and your cheek would remain swollen into the next morning.

He tossed you into your room and stood in the doorway with his imposing figure standing above you. “Until you give me my daughter back, you harlot, you will remain in here. Tomorrow, you’re going to burn those pictures in the backyard.” He began to leave before turning back to look at you one last time, “Pray for forgiveness and God will lead you back to Him.”

He left you crying on the ground in your bedroom with the peeling wallpaper and your open closet. You curled up into a ball on the carpeted floor and sobbed to yourself. All you wanted was for Hobie to wrap his arms around you and tell you everything would be okay.

You remained awake late into the night, lying in your small, twin size mattress you’ve had since childhood, Your hands stroked your cheeks where Hobie had held your face and kissed you. It’s always the kisses that really get you, the kisses that stay with you. They feel the most intimate of all the actions performed on you, the way he takes you gently and asks with just his tongue for you to trust him and you do every single time. His kisses felt like love, though you knew better than to label it as such.

You’re half asleep, tracing your lips with your fingertips with dried tears streaking your swollen cheeks when you hear a tap against your window. You thought nothing of it until it happened again, and again, and again. It was very obviously a bird of something tapping its beak against your window but when you turned in your bed, you found that there was no bird, just the moonlight.

Then you saw a pebble fly up and hit your window and knew that the disturbance was not by accident. You tossed your duvet from your body and slid out of bed to go check it out. At the wet end of your house, the familiar figure of Hobie standing beneath your window with a handful of gravel he had picked up from the front of your house. That coy smile of his as he reached into his pile and tossed another pebble at your window before mouthing, “Open up.”

You sighed with utter relief that he was hear. You moved frantically to unlock the window before sliding it open and sticking your head out. “What are you doing here? My father will kill you!” You asked but all you wanted was for him to be here with you with his hands all over you. You wanted him in your bed with you, whispering promises that he’d never leave you again, that everything was okay, that he was just as in love with you as you were with him and that the two of you would run away together.

“I decided I ain’ wanna wait ‘till Sunday t’ see ya again… and my mum cursed me to hell for ‘what I did to ya’.” Hobie shrugged. He dropped all the gravel in his hands and wiped the dust off on his pants. “Can I come up? I’ll jus’ climb the gutter.”

You looked back and listened for a moment. Upon hearing one of your father’s monstrous snores, you looked back to your lover and nodded. “Just be quiet, my parents are sleeping.”

“As a spider, luv, as a spider.”

You watched Hobie carefully climb his way up the side of your house by the gutter. You were surprised by his strength. He was a rather lanky and slender guy but he had a surprising amount of muscle. He was up to your window in no time. You stepped back to give him the space to get inside. He held your window frame and came in feet first before sliding the rest of his body inside.

Your room looked just the same as it did when the two of you were young, the same floral wallpaper, the same pretty white vanity against the wall on the other side of your room across from your bed, covered in makeup and decorations like bows and pearls. Your stuffed animals were now on a shelf rather than on your bed. Your duvet was still the same too, pink and white with roses. It was all so pretty, so delicate, so chaste.

You were in your pajamas, in a pretty, little nightgown that became see-through under the moonlight. He could see the slopes of your body, the dips and curves, the little bows on the sides of your panties. If only he had come under better circumstances.

You rushed him the moment his feet met the floor, tackling him with your arms wrapped around his slender neck. You sobbed into his neck, babbling on and on about what had happened. Hobie stroked the length of your back and whispered in your ear soft words of assurance.

“You can’t be here, Hobes.” You suddenly retracted from him. Your father was a deep sleeper, but if your mother woke up at any point, your father would follow soon after with his shotgun.

Hobie bent down to begin to unlace his boots, implying that he intended to stay for a while. “I jus’ wan’ed to come see ya, baby. Tha’s all. I needed t’make sure you were okay.” He pulled off his boots and put them to the side, still so tall that you only reached his chest.

It was only then that Hobie saw the swell of your cheek and was quick to come to caress it. He could feel the welt of a handprint against your once unmarked skin. His eyes, once so nonchalant and lighthearted, darkend with worry, with anger. “Did he do this to ya?” He touched the welt so tenderly and even then you flinched away from him, nodding.

Hobie began to make his way towards your bedroom door, determined to get revenge. Who could ever look at a face like yours and think to hurt you? How dare your own father be the one to hurt you? You had to stand between him and the door to stop him, every word of “stop” falling upon deaf ears, blinded by rage.

“Please, Hobes.” You placed your hand upon his chest and pushed back on him softly. “Don’t make things worse. Just hold me…please. That’s all I need right now.”

You went back to your bed and laid down with enough space for Hobie to join you. Obviously he came to lay down with you. If this was what you needed then he’d be her for you in any way he could. He fit a bit awkwardly, his feet hanging off of the end of your bed in a rather comical way. You laid facing each other, tucked in close together. Hobie radiated warmth and made your duvet completely obsolete. You curled in as close as possible.

Hobie caressed your face tenderly, stared at the beauty of your features even with your eyes cried red and raw, your swollen cheeks, and the tears streaming down your face. How was he supposed to break this recent news to you? It would break you, he knew it would, but he had no time to put it lightly. Time was running out fast. Come morning, the two of you would have one less day together.

"I'm leavin' soon." With those three words, all your fears were confirmed. Your one and only support system was leaving you, your only semblance of relief from this choking world was going to let it suffocate you. You stared at him, your eyes glossing over. "I thought you said–"

"I know wha' I said. I know. 'm sorry." He watched the way tears rolled down your cheeks. His thumbs stroked away the tears that formed before they could fall but you needed to cry, you needed to. If you didn’t cry, what else was there to do? "'M sorry I lied but I need t' leave. My mum doesn’ wan’ me here no more. I gotta leave ya here, dove. ‘M tryna show kindness, not to fuck up ya life even more."

Kindness? Kindness? This was not kindness. This was cruelty. His solution was to just run? To abandon you? Did you truly mean so little to him that he could just up and leave you again. What were you supposed to do without him? How long did you have left with him.

"When?"

"After Mass on Sunday." Just 3 days. Too soon, far too soon, not enough time to make things right. “Is that what you came here to tell me?” Hobie’s eyes softened with guilt and for the first time, he shifted his gaze away from yours. “I couldn’ go wit’cha thinkin’ I just abandoned ya.”

But that was exactly what he was doing. He was abandoning you. Just like all those years ago. How many more years would it be until he came back? Would you still be in love with him by then, suppressed behind many years of absence? Would you forgive him for leaving or would the resentment stay for the rest of your life? You resented him, his ability to leave when things got rough, his ability to ruin your life then run away when the consequences finally caught up with you.

No need for him to be gone now. You needed him out of your house or you might scream at him, scream your lungs out until your heart was on the floor and your tears drowned your words. Scream until you tore your vocal cords, coughed up blood, coughed up rose petals.

"Get out." Your expression hardened. "Get out of my room, get out of my house, get out of my life. If you're going to leave then stay out. I don't need you coming back in 5 years to just ruin my life again." You got up and marched over to the window where he left his boots. You picked them up and threw them at him. "Leave and stay away. Never come back, Hobie. Never. If you really want to be kind, you'd let me live my life."

Hobie barely managed to get his shoes on before you were pulling him out of your bed and shoving him towards your window.

"Y/n–"

"Get out!" It's the loudest your voice has gotten so far. He's never seen you so angry. He really fucked up, really fucked you up, fucked up your life. It's best if he just left, left this town, left you alone entirely. So he said nothing more and climbed out of the window, sliding down the gutter.

There was nothing left to say.

Your parents made you burn the photos the next day before locking you back in your room for the next 2 days. They only let you out to eat and use the restroom. You weren't allowed any other privileges, not for the damned daughter. They left you with your rosary and your bible, made to only read scripture and pray the evil out of your body and for forgiveness from the Lord.

The only time you were allowed out of your room, out of the house, was on Sunday for morning mass. You were relieved to just be able to get out and get some fresh air. You took a well-deserved shower, your skin pale and your lips were dry, you trembled under the hot shower water as it poured down your body, praying.

You fasted every Sunday morning, breakfast skipped for the meal to be made after. You and your family woke up and immediately went to church at 7 in the morning and all you thought about was if Hobie has already left or if he was truly waiting until after mass to go.

You found out when you got there. Hobie and his mother were sitting on the far opposite end of the church from where you and your family usually sit. You caught his gaze for a moment and broke it as fast as you had gained it when your father grabbed your wrist and dragged you away towards your usual pew. He was still here, maybe waiting to say goodbye, a luxury he would not be afforded.

Mass went on as usual, with your sweaty parish and his long sermons. An hour in, you asked your mother if you could use the restroom and you were told to make it quick. A small luxury given to you as you stood, adjusted you dress, and made your way to the back of the church towards the old bathrooms in desperate need for renovation.

You passed the confessional cabinet along the way, to and from the restroom. On your way back, you heard the smallest bit of a whisper. “Doll.” It came from one side of the cabinet, the unmistakable accented voice of Hobie coaxing you over. You stood before the booth, debating over whether you should just leave him there or play his stupid little game one last time.

He was leaving today, what more harm can he do to you?

You opened the other door and took a step inside. Never before have you been in the confessional booth. You figured that your parents would eventually make you confess your sins to the Father at some point and you’d fall in with one of the many sinners in town.

You sat on the bench, looking at Hobie’s obscured face through the carved out design in the mahogany wood of the cabinet. “What do you want, Hobie?” Your voice was cold and uncaring but belied that all you wanted to do was find his tongue with yours and let him take you right here. All or nothing, ‘take the last bit of me before you go’.

“I jus’ wan’ed to talk, dove.” Hobie rubbed his hands together nervously. It’s been so long since he’s been nervous but if anyone deserved such an emotion, it would be you. The two of you had left things off horribly and he couldn’t bear to leave without leaving things off on a better note. “I though’ maybe–” he began to chuckle, “maybe we i’ would be easier to confess wha’s on our min’s in here.

“I know ya have no reason to wanna talk t’me, but jus’... I know you have a lot on ya mind and I wan'ed to give ya the chance to say i'"

You were silent for a long moment before Hobie spoke again.

"Confess ya sins and I'll hold them wit' me foreva."

Something about those words made your throat constrict and your heart squeeze. You could get it all out right now and if it didn't change his mind about leaving, at least you would have held nothing from him. You would have placed your heart on your sleeve and showed him all your vulnerabilities. The sin would be his.

You rested your head against the cut out the two of you were talking to. "Sin? My sin, Hobie, is that you had me in ways I thought only my husband would. My sin was that I thought I meant something to you." Your voice trembled with the tears that began to swell in your eyes and roll like rivers down your cheeks, breaking off and spilling into smaller streams. "My sin was that I was stupid enough to think you wouldn't leave again. My sin was that I fell in love with you and you will never love me the same way."

You placed your hand against the cutout wall and stationed your lips close. "My sin is that I want to run away with you, leave this life and follow you wherever you go. I want you to take me, make me yours, right here, right now. That's my sin, Hobie. You ruined me."

The silence was so loud, filled with the parishes voice describing the sanctity of marriage and how nowadays, the youngins just have sex all over the place without knowing that importance of marriage first.

The cabinet creaked softly as Hobie got up from the bench inside. He pushed open the door, stepped out, and opened the door to your side. He took you up, pulling the door closed behind him, and pulled you in. You didn't look at him, refused to, lip trembling.

"I ruined ya now, did I?" Hobie grasped your chin and forced you to look at him. He was glad to see the swelling of your cheek had gone down. He should have killed your father over hitting you. He would have if you hadn't stopped him. The things he would do for you. "Righ' here and righ' now? I could do tha'"

Hobie had you against the wall in no time, your hands grasping at each other while his teeth bit and licked at your neck in sloppy kisses against your throat. You tilted your head back to allow him more space, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer and hold his body to yours. You missed his touch, the way he smelled, the way his hands grasped at your body, your breasts, your waist, caressing every curve of your body down to your hips. His rough and calloused as he pulled your dress up to pool under your tits, leaving your white, lace panties and thigh-high socks exposed. They were cheeky and childish but Hobie found it cute.

Hobie’s lips found yours and you opened on command for him. He’s got you trained good, his sweet, little flower. You still moaned every time he stroked his tongue against yours, still shivered when his thumbs stroked your cheeks. Heat pooled between your legs, slick wetness coating your lips and soaking your lacy, little panties. Would kissing him always feel like this? Like your heart was exploding in your chest, like you might just cum right here.

He shoved his hand into your panties and dipped his fingers between your swollen, soaked lips. He's barely done anything beyond kiss you and you're already dripping, your body leaning into his. Your body rolled when he found your clit, teasing it with the pads of his fingers in gentle circular motions.

You moan softly against his full lips. His tongue piercing brushes against your tongue before forcing yours down and latching his lips to yours.

"You don' wanna be caught, do ya, doll? You wan’ someone t’come and catch me ruining you, spoiling you?" His words are disgusting, filthy, and such a big turn on. You shivered at his words, with every stroke against your clit, at the way he chuckled at your cuteness.

He continued to play with you, trying to get you wet enough so this all would hurt less. Hobie reveled in your pretty, muffled noises, coaxing more from you by the second. He wished he could take his time with this, go nice and slow while he spoils you, but someone would suspect something and put two and two together if you take too long.

Hobie pulled his fingers from your panties and you whimpered softly, watching him kitten-lick your juices from his digit with teh softest moan.

He leaned in and suckled on your bottom lip softly, whispering into you, “jus’ saty quiet f’me, luv. Can ya do tha’?” You nodded frantically, so hard you made yourself dizzy. His fingers began to pull at his belt, undoing the buckle. He took his time pulling himself out of his restraints and when he popped out, his fat cock slapping against your bare stomach, you gasped. He was just so big, smearing pre-cum against your naval, marking where his cock would rest if he pushed himself all the way into your tiny pussy.

He’d take you right here, deflower you in this sacred place of worship and they’d never know. He’d have your legs quivering, your eyes rolling back, seeing white, and you’d never make a peep because he asked it of you. No one would know that he defiled your sacred body, made it his.

As much as Hobie affected you, you affected him. He was so hard at the mere thought of fucking you that it hurted. Pre-cum beaded at his tip before dripping down his slit. He pumped himself in his hand, thumbing at his head while he kissed you. “Tha’s righ’, keep quiet or we’ll be in trouble, luv.”

Hobie dipped down and grasped the backs of your thighs to lift you up and make you wrap your legs around his slender waist. Your clothed core pressed against the length of his cock and you ground your hips down to get some friction against your aching cunt.

Hobie pulled your panties to the side, let you take what you needed as you humped him. He sat down on the bench, let you straddle his hips, dragging your soaked cunt along the girth of his cock. Every time his thick head caught on your clit you'd shudder yet keep your lips sealed like a good girl. No one would know what was going on if only you kept your lips tight.

Hobie let you take control of yourself, your pleasure, in a place where you've never before had control over anything. He watched you almost lovingly, leaning back with his hands on your hips, trying your best to prepare yourself for a moment you've been waiting for your entire life.

"I need you to do it for me." You whispered timidly, looking at him with those big eyes of yours. "I'm scared." It felt stupid to admit. Something you wanted so badly, something you practically pleaded for, now felt like the most terrifying thing in the world.

Hobie kissed the edges of your mouth. "'ve got'cha. Don't be afraid. We'll go slow." His voice gave you all the assurance you needed as you nodded and closed your eyes, placing yourself entirely in his hands.

Hobie positioned himself against the tight, wet hole of your entrance. The only time you've been stretched out was with his fingers and even then, you had been tight due to anxiety. His fingers didn't even compare.

He took your hips in his hold and brought you down slowly, the head of his cock splitting you apart and a nerve-wracking pace. A sharp pain took you and you cried softly, your fingers digging into Hobie's shoulders as he attempted to get you to calm down. He didn't go any further, just the tip, that was the hardest part. "Jus' breath, luv. You got i'."

You took in a shaky breath, slowly pushing your hips down to take him inch by inch. He stretched you in a way that his fingers failed to prepare you for, intruded in your body in a way that was so intimate that you thought you might cry but maybe that was the stinging pain of him making space for himself inside your body.

He seemed to go on forever but the moment you reached the hilt, you paused, sitting in his lap, rocking your hips gently in an attempt to adjust to his size. You whimpered with each moment, burying your face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent that makes you deliriously high. “Hobie, I can’t.” You murmured, shaking your head. “I can’t, it hurts.”

“Yes ya can, luv. I got’chu. It’ll feel good in a moment.” Hobie kept your hips rocking back and forth and whispered into the side of your neck. His fingers slipped beneath the band of your underwear, his long, rough fingers grabbing at your flesh.

With time, your face against his throat, eyes closed, you began to relax. Your once tight muscles loosened slowly and what was once pain shifted into gentle pleasure. Your lips sought out his and you kissed him gently, moaning against his tongue while the ball of his piercing pressed against the soft muscle of your tongue.

Hobie prompted you to rise and slowly, you did, every vein dragging against your silken walls. You rose until just his tip remained inside you before falling back down upon his cock. He was so big, so thigh, touching places inside you you never knew even existed. His cock dragged against a soft spot inside you and immediately, your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably. Your body rolled with the familiar jolts of an orgasm overtaking your body. You fell away from the kiss, slapping your hand over your mouth as you arched your back and let out a soft cry.

There was a wet sound, a small squirt of something clear coming from between your legs and wetting Hobie’s pants and abdomen. You hadn’t even noticed it until the waves of your climax washed over you and he had barely thrusted into you once. You looked at him, smiling something evil at you. “I ain’ know you was a squirter, doll.”

“I’m sorry, I– I have no idea what that was.”

“Don’ apologize. ‘M just wonderin’ if I can make ya do i’ again.” Hobie hadn’t expected you to cum so fast, much less to squirt all from one thrust. Your pussy gushed with your cum, slicking him up and making the whole debacle a whole lot easier. He rubbed circles on your still trembling thighs until they stopped shaking with the aftermath of your orgasm before he took hold of your hips again and began guiding you movements up and down his length.

You felt like absolute Heaven around him, all wet and silky, tight yet not too tight. He made you ride him nice and slow, sliding his hands up and down the length of your gorgeous, shivering body and whispering quiet praises to you while mass seemed to become all the louder. Songs of worship were being sang and Hobie couldn’t help but to find a steady beat with them.

You had never felt so high before, like you were ascending to whole nothing plane of existence, like you were touching Heaven itself before you were cast down to Hell. The choir sang and you sang Hobie’s name with them, your thighs burning with strenuous use but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you had solidified your place in Hell, that your parents were altogether ready to disown you, that your rosary sat discarded on the floor of the confession booth. You just cared that Hobie’s cock was bullying its way inside you, that you felt good about yourself for the first time in so, so long. He made you feel so good.

“I love you.” You said to him, fucked out and in a daze, bouncing on his dick and hungry for a second orgasm sitting pretty on the horizon. “I love you more than God, more than anything.” You feel like you can't think straight. You can't even formulate cohesive thoughts for Christ's sake beyond your adoration for him. It was like he was knocking something loose in your brain ramming into you. “I love you, I love you, IloveyouIlove you.”

“I love ya too, luv. Fuck- God, I only came back to this– shit, keep goin’, doll…only came back f’you.” Hobie’s head fell back against the back of the booth and his eyes rolled back in his head. “God, ya feel s’good, s’good. Don’ stop.” Like you ever wanted to. It was like you were both losing hold of yourselves, growing increasingly louder, but the music did a wonderful job at covering it up.

He slides his hand over your mouth as you cry out. "What would your parents think if they saw you like this, getting soiled like this. You think they would notice if I came in your pussy and let it run down your thighs during service."

You whimper a muffled moan against his hand. You don't even care that he's telling you that he's gonna cum inside you. You were too focused on your orgasm approaching like a freight train. It was hot and steamy in this tiny compartment. Your hot breath quickly fills the room that quickly turned into a stuffy sauna as you two sweat.

Hobie could feel his coming too, the quickest he'd ever had cum since his first time. He lets his fingers dip into your mouth and press on your hot tongue. You instinctively begin sucking and Hobie praises you by calling you a "good girl. Always a good girl".

Your orgasm came without warning. It took hold of your like a possession, your muscles tightening with the weight of it. Your hand reached between your legs and eagerly stroked your clit and before you knew it, you were squirting again, just for him. Your pussy pulsated, your eyes rolled, your body relaxed and rolled against his, coaxing his orgasm out of him.

Hobie quickly slipped out of you before you could take his cock into you again. He wrapped a large, wet hand around his cock and stroked himself hard and fast against your wet abdomen. It didn’t take long for him to cum, coating your stomach in thick ribbons of it while he let out deep, panting huffs against your shoulder.

“You think they noticed we’ve been gone?”

“Definitely.”

Mass went on as usual when the two of you finally returned to your seats but you could both tell that your parents had caught on a long time ago and there was no way some kind of reprimanding wasn’t underway.

That night, you left home. Your father had struck you again and told you that you had two options, enter a convert and become a nun or leave the house because he “would not stand for this debauchery”.

You chose to leave.

You called Hobie on the house phone just before he left his hotel and asked him to come pick you up. By the time he got there, you were sitting on the curb with two bags and in tears. He got off of his bike, grabbed your bags for you, and offered out a hand for you to take. “You ready?”

You looked up at him, wiped the tears from your cheeks with the backs of your hands, and slipped your hand into his so he could help you up

”As ever.”

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